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 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
strong,

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,
catch.
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.

Ohe. 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 bor'd, and that the moon
May through the center creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with the 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!
O! once tell true, tell true, even 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?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood:
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
Her. I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well.
Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore?
Her. A privilege, never to see me more. —
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.

Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein:
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow
For debt, that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now, in some slight measure it will pay,

If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down.
Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight:
Of thy misprision must perforce ensue

Some true-love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true. Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that, one man holding troth,

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens look thou find :
All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer
With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear:
By some illusion see thou bring her here:
Pil charm his eyes, against she do appear.
Puck. I go, I go,; look, how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
Obe. Flower of this purple die,
Hit with Cupid's archery,

Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously,

As the Venus of the sky.-
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter PUCK.
Puck. Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee:
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Obe. Stand aside: the noise, they make,
Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once woo one;
That must needs be sport alone;

And those things do best please me,

That befal preposterously.

Enter LYSANDER and HELENA.

[Exit.

But you must join, in souls, to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so:

To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena:
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eye's,
With your derision! none, of noble sort,
Would so offend a virgin, and extort

A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know;
And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love, and will do to my death.

Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia! I will none:
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.
My heart with her but, as guest-wise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helen is it home return'd,
There to remain.

Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?

Her. What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena; who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek'st thou me ?could not this make thee know,
The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?

Her. You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin'd, all three,
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derision?

Is all the counsel, that we two have shar'd,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us,-O, and is all forgot?

All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,

Have with our neelds created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem:
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it;

Though I alone do feel the injury.
Her. I am amazed at your passionate words:
I scorn you not; it seems, that you scorn me.
Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me, and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius,
(Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,)
To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So huug upon with love, so fortunate;
But miserable most, to love unlov'd?
This you should pity, rather than despite.
Her. I understand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do persever, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mows upon me, when I turn my back;
Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up:
This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument.
But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault;
Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.
Lys. Stay, gentle Helena, hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena !
Hel. O excellent!

Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so!
Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
Lys. Thou canst compel no more, than she entreat;
Thy threats have no more strength, than her weak
prayers.-

I

Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do ;

swear by that, which I will lose for thee,
To prove him false, that says I love thee not.
Dem. I say, I love thee more, than he can do.
Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Dem. Quick, come-

Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
Lys. Away, you Ethiop!

Dem. No, no, sir;-he will

Seem to break loose; take on, as you would follow;
But yet come not! You are a tame man, go!
Lys. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr: vile thing, let
loose!

Or I will shake thee from me, like a serpent.

Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this, Sweet love?

Lys. Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out!
Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!
Her. Do you not jest?

Hel. Yes, sooth; and so do you.

Dys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. Dem. I would, I had your bond; for I perceive, A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word. Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?

Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Her. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate? Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?

I am as fair now, as I was erewhile.

Since night you lov'd me ; yet, since night you left me:
Why, then you left me, -0, the gods forbid ! -
In earnest, shall I say?

Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And stol'n my love's heart from him?

Hel. Fine, i'faith!

Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you!

Her. Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive, that she hath made compare Between our statures, she hath urg'd her height; And with her personage, her tall personage,

Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.
And are you grown so high in his esteem,
Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak!
How low am I? I am not yet so low,

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
I am a right maid for my cowardice;

Let her not strike me; you, perhaps, may think,
Because she's something lower, than myself,
That I can match her.

Her. Lower! hark, again.

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me!
I evermore did love you, Hermia,

Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you;
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,

I told him of your stealth unto this wood:
He follow'd you; for love, I follow'd him.

But he hath chid me hence; and threaten'd me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further. Let me go!
You see how simple and how fond I am.

Her. Why, get you gone; who is't that hinders you?
Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.
Her. What, with Lysander?

Hel. With Demetrius.

Lys. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
Dem. No, sir; she shall not, though you take her part.
Hel. O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd;
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And, though she be but little, she is fierce.

Her. Little again? nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus ?
Let me come to her!

Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf;

You minimus,.of hind'ring knot-grass made;
You bead, you acorn!

Dem. You are too officious

In her behalf, that scorns your services.

Let her alone; speak not of Helena;

Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend
Never so little show of love to her,
Thou shalt aby it.

Lys. Now she holds me not;

Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try, whose right,
Or thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Or else commit'st thy knaveries wilfully.
Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me, I should know the man
By the Athenian garments, he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprize,
That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes:
And so far am I glad it so did sort,
As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight:
Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;
And lead these testy rivals so astray,
As one come not within another's way.
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
And from each other look thou lead them thus,
Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:
Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from thence all error, with his might,
And make his eye-balls roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream, and fruitless vision;
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
With league, whose date till death shall never end.
Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charmed eye release
From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste;
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to church-yards; damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone,
For fear, lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:
with the morning's love have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the castern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.
But, nothwithstanding, haste; måke no delay!
We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit Oberon
Puck. Up and down, up and down;

I

I will lead them up and down:

I am fear'd in field and town; Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one.

Enter LYSANder.

Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now!

Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?

Lys. I will be with thee straight.

Puck. Follow me then

To plainer ground. [Exit Lys. as following the voice. Enter DEMETRIUS.

Dem. Lysander! speak again.

Thou runaway, thon coward, art thou fled?
Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes, that thou look'st for wars,
And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou

child!

I'll whip thee with a rod: he is defil'd,

That draws a sword on thee.

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy!
Bot. Where's Peas-blossom?
Peas Ready.

Bot.Scratch my head,Peas-blossom!-Where's monsieur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

Bot. Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a redhipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag! Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you over-flown with a honey-bag, signior.Where's monsieur Mustard-seed? Must. Ready.

Bot. Give me your nief, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Must. What's your will?

Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero

this dear,

If ever I thy face by day-light see:

Now, go thy way!-Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.—
By day's approach look to be visited.

[Lies down and sleeps. Enter HELENA.

Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours! shine, comforts, from the east; That I may back to Athens, by day-light, From these, that my poor company detest!And, sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me a while from mine own company! Puck. Yet but three? Come one more;

Two of both kinds make up four.

[Sleeps.

for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?

Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones.

Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy, that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. 1 had rather have a handful, or two, of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir ́ me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away!

So doth the woodbine, the sweet honeysuckle,
Gently entwist,-the female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They sleep.
OBERON advances. Enter Puck.

Obe. Welcome, good Robin! See'st thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do begin to pity.

For meeting her of late, behind the wood,
Seeking sweet savours for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her:
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;

When thou wak'st,

Thou tak'st

True delight

In the sight

Of thy former lady's eye:

And the country proverb known,

That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill;

Nought shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. [Exit Puck.-Dem. Hel. etc. asleep.

Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flow'rets' eyes,
Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had, at my pleasure, taunted her,
And she, in mild terms, begg'd my patience,

I then did ask of her her changeling child;
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
From of the head of this Athenian swain;
That he, awaking, when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair;
And think no more of this night's accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the fairy queen.
Be, as thou wast 'wont to be;

[Touching her eyes with an herb. See, as thou wast wont to see:

Obe. Silence a while!-Robin, take off this head!— Titania, music call; and 'strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense. Tita. Music, ho! music; such as charmeth sleep. Puck. Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

Obe. Sound, music! [Still music.] Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be!
Now thou and I are new in amity;

And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly,
Dance in duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair posterity:

There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark;
I do hear the morning lark.

Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade;
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.
Tita. Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping here was found,
With these mortals on the ground.

[Exeunt.

[Horns sound within. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. The. Go, one of you, find out the forester!For now our observation is perform'd: And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds.Uncouple in the western valley; go:Despatch,I say, and find the forester !We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:

Judge, when you hear.-But, soft; what nymphs are these?

Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;
And this Lysander; this Demetrius is ;
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena:

I wonder of their being here together.

The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.-
But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day,
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Ege. It is, my lord.

The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their

horns.

Horns and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, HER-
MIA, and HELENA, wake and start up.
The.Good-morrow, friends! Saint Valentine is past;
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Lys. Pardon, my lord.

[He and the rest kneel to Theseus. The. I pray you all, stand up! Iknow, you are two rival enemies; How comes this gentle concord in the world, That hatred is so far from jealousy, To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity? Lys. My lord, Ishall reply amazedly, Half'sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear, cannot truly say how I came here: But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,And now I do bethink me, so it is ;)

I

I came with Hermiahither: our intent
Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of the Ahenian law.

Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:
I beg the law, the law upon his head.
They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me:
You, of your wife; and me, of my consent;

Of my consent, that she should be your wife.
Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;
Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not, by what power,
(But by some power it is,) my love to Hermia,
Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gawd,
Which in my childhood I did dote upon:
And all the faith and virtue of my heart,
The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia;
But, like in sickness, did I loath this food:
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now do I wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
Of this discourse we will hear more anon.-
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple, by and by with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.-
Away, with us, to Athens! Three and three,
We'll hold a feast of great solemnity.—
Come, Hippolyta!

[Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.
Dem. These things seem small, and undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.
Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye,
When every thing seems double.

Hel. Somethinks:

And I have found Demetrius, like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem. It seems to me,

That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think,
The duke was here, and bid us follow him?
Her. Yea; and my father.

Hel. And Hippolyta.

Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple. Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow him; And, by the way, let us recount our dreams! [Exeunt. As they go out, BOTTOM awakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer : —my next is, Most fair Pyramus.-Hey, ho! - Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout,the tinker! St arveling! God's mylife! stolen hence, and left me