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And waxen in their mirth, and neeze and swear
Set your heart at rest,
But room, Faery, here comes Oberon.
Fai. And here my mistress: -- 'Would that he And, in the spiced Indian air, by night, were gone!
SCENE II. Enter OBERON, at one door, with his
Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord?
Would imitate; and sail upon the land,
Obe. How long within this wood intend you stay?
If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
[Exeunt TITANIA and her train.
Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
10 dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
Obe. Do you amend it then: it lies in you:
Full often hath she gossip'd by my side;
Till I torment thee for this injury. ·
My gentle Puck, come hither: Thou rem.mber'st
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
Obe. That very time I saw, (but thou could'st not,)
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once;
Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth
But who comes here? I am invisible; And I will over-hear their conference.
Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him. Dem. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia? The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me. Thou told'st me, they were stol'n into this wood. And here am I, and wood within this wood, Because I cannot meet with Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant ; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair ? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
- I do not, nor I cannot love you?
Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you:
Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick, when I do look on thee.
Hel. And I am sick, when I look not on you.
Hel. Your virtue is my privilege for that.
Dem. I'll run from thee, and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd; Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger: Bootless speed! When cowardice pursues, and valour flies.
Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fye, Demetrius ! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do: We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.
[Exeunt DEM. and HEL. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter PuCK. Ilast thou the flower there? Puck. Ay, there it is.
Welcome wanderer. I pray thee, give it me.
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove :
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
- Another part of the Wood.
Tita. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song;
1 Fai. You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
Philomel, with melody,
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby ;
So, good night, with lullaby.
2 Fai. Weaving spiders, come not here:
Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence:
Philomel, with melody, &c.
2 Fa. Hence, away; now all is well : One, aloof, stand sentinel.
Obe. What thou seest, when thou dost wake, [Squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eye-lids. Do it for thy true-love take; Love and languish for his sake; Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear When thou wak'st, it is thy dear; Wake, when some vile thing is near.
Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA.
Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood;
And to speak troth, I have forgot our way; We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Her. Be it so, Lysander, find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head.
Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.
Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.
Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Love takes the meaning, in love's conference. I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit; So that but one heart we can make of it: Two bosoms interchained with an outh; So then, two bosoms, and a single troth. Then, by your side no bed-room me deny ; For, lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
Her. Lysander riddles very prettily: Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied. But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy Lie further off'; in human modesty Such separation, as, may well be said, Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid: So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: Thy love ne'er alter, till thy sweet life end!
Lys. Amen, Amen, to that fair prayer, say I; And then end life, when I end loyalty! Here is my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest! Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! [They sleep.
Puck. Through the forest have I gone,
Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [Exit DEMETRIUS. Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, whereso'er she lies; For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears: If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art, sake. [Waking. That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword?
Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.
Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
But fare you well: perforce I must confess,
Of all be hated; but the most of me!
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
of thorns and a lantern, and say, he comes to disThe Queen of Fairies figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk through the chink of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall. - What say you, Bottom?
Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and
Bot. Are we all met?
Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal: This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.
Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords: and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better assurance, tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: This will put them out of fear,
Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue and it shall be written in eight and six.
Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.
Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it.
Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell, he is not a lion.
Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect, Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: No, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men are: and there, indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner.
Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and let him have some plaster, or some lome, or some rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.
This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily white of hue, Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire, I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: Why you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your part at once, cues and all. — Pyramus enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire.
[Exit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me afeard.
Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee?
Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head of "our own; Do you?
Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. [Exit.
Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall ear I am not afraid. [Sings.
The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
The throstle with his note so true,
Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? [Waking.
Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry cuckoo, never so?
Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again : Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.
Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days: The more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon
Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go; Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit, of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes: Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1 Fai. Hail, mortal!
2 Fai. Hail!
Where shall we go? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries; With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed, and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity,
Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spiriti What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love, Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, That work for bread upon Athenian stalls. Were met together to rehearse a play, Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day. The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport Forsook his scene, and enter'd in a brake: When I did him at this advantage take, An ass's now I fixed on his head; Anon, his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimick comes: When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun's report Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky; So at his sight, away his fellows fly: And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. Their sense, thus weak, lost with their fears, thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: