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Dem. Stay, on thy peril: I alone will go.

Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery [Erit DEMETRIUS.

born ? Hel. O! I am out of breath in this fond chase. When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn ? The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies,

That I did never, no, nor never can, For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.

Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears : But you must flout my insufficiency? If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than her's. Good troth, you do me wrong; good sooth, you No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,

do, For beasts that meet me, run away for fear;

In such disdainful manner me to woo. Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius

But fare you well : perforce I must confess. Do, as a monster, fly my presence


I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine

O, that a lady, of one man refus'd,
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne? Should, of another, therefore, be abus'd!

[Erit. But who is here?—Lysander on the ground?

Lys. She sees not Hermia.—Hermia, sleep thou Dead, or asleep?– I see no blood, no wound.

there; Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.

And never may'st thou come Lysander near ; Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things sake.

[Waking. The deepest loathing to the stomach brings ;
Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art, Or, as the heresies, that men do leave,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Are hated most of those they did deceive ;
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word

So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy,
Is that vile name to perish on my sword !

Of all be hated, but the most of me. Hel. Do not say so, Lysander: say not so. And, all my powers, address your love and might, What though he love your Hermia ?' Lord! what To honour Helen, and to be her knight. though?

Her. [Starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me! Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.

do thy best, Lys. Content with Hermia ? No: I do repent To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast. The tedious minutes I with her have spent.

Ah, me, for pity !-what a dream was here ! Not Hermia, but Helena I love.

Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear. Who will not change a raven for a dove?

Methought a serpent eat my heart away, The will of man is by his reason sway'd,

And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.And reason says you are the worthier maid. Lysander! what, remov'd ? Lysander! lord ! Things growing are not ripe until their season; What, out of hearing ? gone? no sound, no So, I being young, till now ripe not to reason;

word ? And touching now the point of human skill, Alack! where are you? speak, an if you hear; Reason becomes the marshal to my will,

Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. And leads me to your eyes; where I o'erlook No ?-then I well perceive you are not nigh: Love's stories, written in love's richest book. Either death, or you, I'll find immediately. [Erit.


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SCENE I.—The Same. The Queen of Fairies lying Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his asleep.

face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he

himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the Enter Quince, SNUG, Bottom, Flute, Snout,

same defect :- Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish and STARVELING.

you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat Bot. Are we all met?

you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous conve If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity nient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall of my life: no, I am no such thing: I am a man be our stage, this hawthorn brake our 'tiring-house; as other men are;" and there, indeed, let him and we will do it in action, as we will do it before name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug, the duke.

the joiner, Bot. Peter Quince,

Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom ? hard things : that is, to bring the moonlight into a

Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyra- chamber; for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet mus and Thisby,” that will never please. First, by moon-light. Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which Snug. Doth the moon shine that night we play the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that? our play? Snout. By'rlakin, a parlous fear.

Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; Star. I believe we must leave the killing out, find out moonshine, find out moonshine. when all is done.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night. Bot. Not a whit: I have a device to make all Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the well. Write me a prologue; and let the prologue great chamber window, where we play, open; and seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords, the moon may shine in at the casement. and that Pyramus is not killed indeed : and, for the Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush more better assurance, tell them, that I, Pyramus, of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disam not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver. This figure, or to present, the person of moonshine. will put them out of fear.

Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue, and in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby it shall be written in eight and six.

(says the story) did talk through the chink of a Bot. No, make it two more: let it be written in wall. eight and eight.

Snug. You can never bring in a wall.—What Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion ?

say you, Bottom ? Star. I fear it, I promise you.

Bot. Some man or other must present wall; and Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with your- let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some selves: to bring in, God shield us! a lion among rough-cast about him, to signify wall: or let him ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living, and we Pyramus and Thisby whisper. ought to look to it.

Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell he sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your is not a lion.

parts. Pyramus, you begin. When you have

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spoken your speech, enter into that brake; and so every one according to his cue.

Enter Puck, behind.
Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swag-

gering here,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen ?
What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

Quin. Speak, Pyramus.— Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr. “ Thisby, the flowers of odious savours

sweet,”Quin. Odours, odours. Pyr. 6* odours savours sweet:

So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby, dear.But, hark, a voice ! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear.".

[Erit. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here!

[Erit. This. Must I speak now?

Quin. Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. This. “Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white

of hue, Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most briskly 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.” Re-enter Puck, and Bottom, with an ass's head. This. 0!“ As true as truest horse, that yet

would never tire." Pyr. "If I were, fair Thisby, I were only

thine :"— Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters ! fly, masters ! help!

[Ereunt Clowns. Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:

Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,

A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

[Erit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard.

Re-enter Snout. Snout. O Bottom ! thou art changed: what do I see on thee?

Erit. Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head of your own, do you?

Re-enter QUINCE. Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.

[Erit. 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 hear I am not afraid.

[Sings. The oosel-cock, so black of hue,

With orange-lawney bill,
The throstle with his note so true,

The wren with little quill. Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

(Waking Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

The plain-song cuckoo gray;
Whose note full many a man doth mark,

And dares not answer, nay; 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.


ACT III. SCEND 1.-I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear i am not afraid.

The more the pity, that some honest neighbours And pluck the wings from painted butterflies. will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes. occasion.

Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. 1 Fai. Hail, mortal!

Bot. Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to 2 Fai. Hail ! get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine 3 Fai. Hail ! own turn.

4 Fai. Hail! Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go : Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-1 Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. beseech, your worship's name. I am a spirit of no common rate ;

Cob. Cobweb. The summer still doth tend upon my state,

Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, And I do love thee: therefore, go with me; good master Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;

make bold with you.—Your name, honest gentleAnd they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,

man ? And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost Peas. Peas-blossom. sleep;

Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,

your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed! more acquaintance too. — Your name, I beseech Enter four Fairies.

Mus. Mustard-seed. 1 Fai. Ready.

Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your 2 Fai. And I.

patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox3 Fai. And I.

beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your 4 Fai. And I.

house. I promise you, your kindred hath made my Al. Where shall we go? | eyes water ere now.

I desire you more acquaintTita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman : ance, good master Mustard-seed. Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes ;

Tita. Come, wait upon him: lead him to my Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries,

bower. With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries. The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye, The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, And for night tapers crop their waxen thighs, Lamenting some enforced chastity. And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, Tie up my lover's tongue, bring him silently. To have my love to bed, and to arise ;


you, sir?

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SCENE II.- Another part of the Wood.

Obe. I wonder, if Titania be awak'd;
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.

Enter Puck.
Here comes my messenger.—How now, mad spirit?
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 nowl I fixed on his head : Anon his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimic 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

Made senseless things begin to do them wrong,
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch,
Some, sleeves, some, hats, from yielders all things

I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there;
When in that moment, (so it came to pass,)
Titania wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.

Obe. This falls out better than I could devise.

But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?

Puck. I took him sleeping, (that is finish'd too.)
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.

Enter DEMETRIUS, and HERMIA. Obe. Stand close : this is the same Athenian. Puck. This is the woman; but not this the man.

Dem. O! why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now, I but chide; but I should use thee

worse, For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too. The sun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have stol'n away From sleeping Hermia ? I'll believe as soon, This whole earth may be bord, and that the moon May through the centre creep, and so displease Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes. It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him ; So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murder'd look, and so

should I, Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty; Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my

hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv’st me past

the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? Henceforth be never number'd among men! 0! once tell true, tell true, e'en for my sake; Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake, And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch! Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?

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