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A Midsommer Nights Dreame


 
 Actus primus.
 
 Enter Theseus, Hippolita, with others.
 
   Theseus. Now faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre
 Drawes on apace: foure happy daies bring in
 Another Moon: but oh, me thinkes, how slow
 This old Moon wanes; She lingers my desires
 Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager,
 Long withering out a yong mans reuennew
 
    Hip. Foure daies wil quickly steep the[m]selues in nights
 Foure nights wil quickly dreame away the time:
 And then the Moone, like to a siluer bow,
 Now bent in heauen, shal behold the night
 Of our solemnities
 
    The. Go Philostrate,
 Stirre vp the Athenian youth to merriments,
 Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth,
 Turne melancholy forth to Funerals:
 The pale companion is not for our pompe,
 Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my sword,
 And wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries:
 But I will wed thee in another key,
 With pompe, with triumph, and with reuelling.
 Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.
 
   Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke
 
    The. Thanks good Egeus: what's the news with thee?
   Ege. Full of vexation, come I, with complaint
 Against my childe, my daughter Hermia.
 
 Stand forth Demetrius.
 
 My Noble Lord,
 This man hath my consent to marrie her.
 
 Stand forth Lysander.
 
 And my gracious Duke,
 This man hath bewitch'd the bosome of my childe:
 Thou, thou Lysander, thou hast giuen her rimes,
 And interchang'd loue-tokens with my childe:
 Thou hast by Moone-light at her window sung,
 With faining voice, verses of faining loue,
 And stolne the impression of her fantasie,
 With bracelets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceits,
 Knackes, trifles, Nose-gaies, sweet meats (messengers
 Of strong preuailment in vnhardned youth)
 With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughters heart,
 Turn'd her obedience (which is due to me)
 To stubborne harshnesse. And my gracious Duke,
 Be it so she will not heere before your Grace,
 Consent to marrie with Demetrius,
 I beg the ancient priuiledge of Athens;
 As she is mine, I may dispose of her;
 Which shall be either to this Gentleman,
 Or to her death, according to our Law,
 Immediately prouided in that case
 
    The. What say you Hermia? be aduis'd faire Maide,
 To you your Father should be as a God;
 One that compos'd your beauties; yea and one
 To whom you are but as a forme in waxe
 By him imprinted: and within his power,
 To leaue the figure, or disfigure it:
 Demetrius is a worthy Gentleman
 
    Her. So is Lysander
 
    The. In himselfe he is.
 But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voyce,
 The other must be held the worthier
 
    Her. I would my father look'd but with my eyes
 
    The. Rather your eies must with his iudgment looke
 
    Her. I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
 I know not by what power I am made bold,
 Nor how it may concerne my modestie
 In such a presence heere to pleade my thoughts:
 But I beseech your Grace, that I may know
 The worst that may befall me in this case,
 If I refuse to wed Demetrius
 
    The. Either to dye the death, or to abiure
 For euer the society of men.
 Therefore faire Hermia question your desires,
 Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
 Whether (if you yeeld not to your fathers choice)
 You can endure the liuerie of a Nunne,
 For aye to be in shady Cloister mew'd,
 To liue a barren sister all your life,
 Chanting faint hymnes to the cold fruitlesse Moone,
 Thrice blessed they that master so their blood,
 To vndergo such maiden pilgrimage,
 But earthlier happie is the Rose distil'd,
 Then that which withering on the virgin thorne,
 Growes, liues, and dies, in single blessednesse
 
    Her. So will I grow, so liue, so die my Lord,
 Ere I will yeeld my virgin Patent vp
 Vnto his Lordship, whose vnwished yoake,
 My soule consents not to giue soueraignty
 
    The. Take time to pause, and by the next new Moon
 The sealing day betwixt my loue and me,
 For euerlasting bond of fellowship:
 Vpon that day either prepare to dye,
 For disobedience to your fathers will,
 Or else to wed Demetrius as hee would,
 Or on Dianaes Altar to protest
 For aie, austerity, and single life
 
    Dem. Relent sweet Hermia, and Lysander, yeelde
 Thy crazed title to my certaine right
 
    Lys. You haue her fathers loue, Demetrius:
 Let me haue Hermiaes: do you marry him
 
    Egeus. Scornfull Lysander, true, he hath my Loue;
 And what is mine, my loue shall render him.
 And she is mine, and all my right of her,
 I do estate vnto Demetrius
 
    Lys. I am my Lord, as well deriu'd as he,
 As well possest: my loue is more then his:
 My fortunes euery way as fairely ranck'd
 (If not with vantage) as Demetrius:
 And (which is more then all these boasts can be)
 I am belou'd of beauteous Hermia.
 Why should not I then prosecute my right?
 Demetrius, Ile auouch it to his head,
 Made loue to Nedars daughter, Helena,
 And won her soule: and she (sweet Ladie) dotes,
 Deuoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry,
 Vpon this spotted and inconstant man
 
    The. I must confesse, that I haue heard so much,
 And with Demetrius thought to haue spoke thereof:
 But being ouer-full of selfe-affaires,
 My minde did lose it. But Demetrius come,
 And come Egeus, you shall go with me,
 I haue some priuate schooling for you both.
 For you faire Hermia, looke you arme your selfe,
 To fit your fancies to your Fathers will;
 Or else the Law of Athens yeelds you vp
 (Which by no meanes we may extenuate)
 To death, or to a vow of single life.
 Come my Hippolita, what cheare my loue?
 Demetrius and Egeus go along:
 I must imploy you in some businesse
 Against our nuptiall, and conferre with you
 Of something, neerely that concernes your selues
 
    Ege. With dutie and desire we follow you.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Manet Lysander and Hermia.
 
   Lys. How now my loue? Why is your cheek so pale?
 How chance the Roses there do fade so fast?
   Her. Belike for want of raine, which I could well
 Beteeme them, from the tempest of mine eyes
 
    Lys. For ought that euer I could reade,
 Could euer heare by tale or historie,
 The course of true loue neuer did run smooth,
 But either it was different in blood
 
    Her. O crosse! too high to be enthral'd to loue
 
    Lys. Or else misgraffed, in respect of yeares
 
    Her. O spight! too old to be ingag'd to yong
 
    Lys. Or else it stood vpon the choise of merit
 
    Her. O hell! to choose loue by anothers eie
 
    Lys. Or if there were a simpathie in choise,
 Warre, death, or sicknesse, did lay siege to it;
 Making it momentarie, as a sound:
 Swift as a shadow, short as any dreame,
 Briefe as the lightning in the collied night,
 That (in a spleene) vnfolds both heauen and earth;
 And ere a man hath power to say, behold,
 The iawes of darkness do deuoure it vp:
 So quicke bright things come to confusion
 
    Her. If then true Louers haue beene euer crost,
 It stands as an edict in destinie:
 Then let vs teach our triall patience,
 Because it is a customarie crosse,
 As due to loue, as thoughts, and dreames, and sighes,
 Wishes and teares; poore Fancies followers
 
    Lys. A good perswasion; therefore heare me Hermia,
 I haue a Widdow Aunt, a dowager,
 Of great reuennew, and she hath no childe,
 From Athens is her house remou'd seuen leagues,
 And she respects me, as her onely sonne:
 There gentle Hermia, may I marrie thee,
 And to that place, the sharpe Athenian Law
 Cannot pursue vs. If thou lou'st me, then
 Steale forth thy Fathers house to morrow night:
 And in the wood, a league without the towne,
 (Where I did meete thee once with Helena.
 To do obseruance for a morne of May)
 There will I stay for thee
 
    Her. My good Lysander,
 I sweare to thee, by Cupids strongest bow,
 By his best arrow with the golden head,
 By the simplicitie of Venus Doues,
 By that which knitteth soules, and prospers loue,
 And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queene,
 When the false Troyan vnder saile was seene,
 By all the vowes that euer men haue broke,
 (In number more then euer women spoke)
 In that same place thou hast appointed me,
 To morrow truly will I meete with thee
 
    Lys. Keepe promise loue: looke here comes Helena.
 Enter Helena.
 
   Her. God speede faire Helena, whither away?
   Hel. Cal you me faire? that faire againe vnsay,
 Demetrius loues you faire: O happie faire!
 Your eyes are loadstarres, and your tongues sweete ayre
 More tuneable then Larke to shepheards eare,
 When wheate is greene, when hauthorne buds appeare,
 Sicknesse is catching: O were fauor so,
 Your words I catch, faire Hermia ere I go,
 My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your eye,
 My tongue should catch your tongues sweete melodie,
 Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
 The rest Ile giue to be to you translated.
 O teach me how you looke, and with what art
 You sway the motion of Demetrius hart
 
    Her. I frowne vpon him, yet he loues me still
 
    Hel. O that your frownes would teach my smiles
 such skil
 
    Her. I giue him curses, yet he giues me loue
 
    Hel. O that my prayers could such affection mooue
 
    Her. The more I hate, the more he followes me
 
    Hel. The more I loue, the more he hateth me
 
    Her. His folly Helena is none of mine
 
    Hel. None but your beauty, wold that fault wer mine
   Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face,
 Lysander and my selfe will flie this place.
 Before the time I did Lysander see,
 Seem'd Athens like a Paradise to mee.
 O then, what graces in my Loue do dwell,
 That he hath turn'd a heauen into hell
 
    Lys. Helen, to you our mindes we will vnfold,
 To morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
 Her siluer visage, in the watry glasse,
 Decking with liquid pearle, the bladed grasse
 (A time that Louers flights doth still conceale)
 Through Athens gates, haue we deuis'd to steale
 
    Her. And in the wood, where often you and I,
 Vpon faint Primrose beds, were wont to lye,
 Emptying our bosomes, of their counsell sweld:
 There my Lysander, and my selfe shall meete,
 And thence from Athens turne away our eyes
 To seeke new friends and strange companions,
 Farwell sweet play-fellow, pray thou for vs,
 And good lucke grant thee thy Demetrius.
 Keepe word Lysander we must starue our sight,
 From louers foode, till morrow deepe midnight.
 
 Exit Hermia.
 
   Lys. I will my Hermia. Helena adieu,
 As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you.
 
 Exit Lysander.
 
   Hele. How happy some, ore othersome can be?
 Through Athens I am thought as faire as she.
 But what of that? Demetrius thinkes not so:
 He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
 And as hee erres, doting on Hermias eyes;
 So I, admiring of his qualities:
 Things base and vilde, holding no quantity,
 Loue can transpose to forme and dignity,
 Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde,
 And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blinde.
 Nor hath loues minde of any iudgement taste:
 Wings and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haste.
 And therefore is Loue said to be a childe,
 Because in choise he is often beguil'd,
 As waggish boyes in game themselues forsweare;
 So the boy Loue is periur'd euery where.
 For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermias eyne,
 He hail'd downe oathes that he was onely mine.
 And when this Haile some heat from Hermia felt,
 So he dissolu'd, and showres of oathes did melt,
 I will goe tell him of faire Hermias flight:
 Then to the wood will he, to morrow night
 Pursue her; and for his intelligence,
 If I haue thankes, it is a deere expence:
 But heerein meane I to enrich my paine,
 To haue his sight thither, and backe againe.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Ioyner, Bottome the Weauer,
 Flute
 the bellowes-mender, Snout the Tinker, and Starueling the Taylor.
 
   Quin. Is all our company heere?
   Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by
 man according to the scrip
 
    Qui. Here is the scrowle of euery mans name, which
 is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our Enterlude
 before the Duke and the Dutches, on his wedding
 day at night
 
    Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats
 on: then read the names of the Actors: and so grow on
 to a point
 
    Quin. Marry our play is the most lamentable comedy,
 and most cruell death of Pyramus and Thisbie
 
    Bot. A very good peece of worke I assure you, and a
 merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your Actors
 by the scrowle. Masters spread your selues
 
    Quince. Answere as I call you. Nick Bottome the
 Weauer
 
    Bottome. Ready; name what part I am for, and
 proceed
 
    Quince. You Nicke Bottome are set downe for Pyramus
 
    Bot. What is Pyramus, a louer, or a tyrant?
   Quin. A Louer that kills himselfe most gallantly for
 loue
 
    Bot. That will aske some teares in the true performing
 of it: if I do it, let the audience looke to their eies:
 I will mooue stormes; I will condole in some measure.
 To the rest yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I could
 play Ercles rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to make all
 split the raging Rocks; and shiuering shocks shall break
 the locks of prison gates, and Phibbus carre shall shine
 from farre, and make and marre the foolish Fates. This
 was lofty. Now name the rest of the Players. This
 is Ercles vaine, a tyrants vaine: a louer is more condoling
 
    Quin. Francis Flute the Bellowes-mender
 
    Flu. Heere Peter Quince
 
    Quin. You must take Thisbie on you
 
    Flut. What is Thisbie, a wandring Knight?
   Quin. It is the Lady that Pyramus must loue
 
    Flut. Nay faith, let not mee play a woman, I haue a
 beard comming
 
    Qui. That's all one, you shall play it in a Maske, and
 you may speake as small as you will
 
    Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbie too:
 Ile speake in a monstrous little voyce; Thisne, Thisne, ah
 Pyramus my louer deare, thy Thisbie deare, and Lady
 deare
 
    Quin. No no, you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you
 Thisby
 
    Bot. Well, proceed
 
    Qu. Robin Starueling the Taylor
 
    Star. Heere Peter Quince
 
    Quince. Robin Starueling, you must play Thisbies
 mother?
 Tom Snowt, the Tinker
 
    Snowt. Heere Peter Quince
 
    Quin. you, Pyramus father; my self, Thisbies father;
 Snugge the Ioyner, you the Lyons part: and I hope there
 is a play fitted
 
    Snug. Haue you the Lions part written? pray you if
 be, giue it me, for I am slow of studie
 
    Quin. You may doe it extemporie, for it is nothing
 but roaring
 
    Bot. Let mee play the Lyon too, I will roare that I
 will doe any mans heart good to heare me. I will roare,
 that I will make the Duke say, Let him roare againe, let
 him roare againe
 
    Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would
 fright the Dutchesse and the Ladies, that they would
 shrike, and that were enough to hang us all
 
    All. That would hang vs euery mothers sonne
 
    Bottome. I graunt you friends, if that you should
 fright the Ladies out of their Wittes, they would
 haue no more discretion but to hang vs: but I will aggrauate
 my voyce so, that I will roare you as gently as
 any sucking Doue; I will roare and 'twere any Nightingale
 
    Quin. You can play no part but Piramus, for Piramus
 is a sweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one shall see in
 a summers day; a most louely Gentleman-like man, therfore
 you must needs play Piramus
 
    Bot. Well, I will vndertake it. What beard were I
 best to play it in?
   Quin. Why, what you will
 
    Bot. I will discharge it, in either your straw-colour
 beard, your orange tawnie beard, your purple in graine
 beard, or your French-crowne colour'd beard, your perfect
 yellow
 
    Quin. Some of your French Crownes haue no haire
 at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But masters here
 are your parts, and I am to intreat you, request you, and
 desire you, to con them by too morrow night: and meet
 me in the palace wood, a mile without the Towne, by
 Moone-light, there we will rehearse: for if we meete in
 the Citie, we shalbe dog'd with company, and our deuises
 knowne. In the meane time, I wil draw a bil of properties,
 such as our play wants. I pray you faile me not
 
    Bottom. We will meete, and there we may rehearse
 more obscenely and couragiously. Take paines, be perfect,
 adieu
 
    Quin. At the Dukes oake we meete
 
    Bot. Enough, hold or cut bow-strings.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Actus Secundus.
 
 Enter a Fairie at one dore, and Robin goodfellow at another.
 
   Rob. How now spirit, whether wander you?
   Fai. Ouer hil, ouer dale, through bush, through briar,
 Ouer parke, ouer pale, through flood, through fire,
 I do wander euerie where, swifter then y Moons sphere;
 And I serue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs vpon the green.
 The Cowslips tall, her pensioners bee,
 In their gold coats, spots you see,
 Those be Rubies, Fairie fauors,
 In those freckles, liue their sauors,
 I must go seeke some dew drops heere,
 And hang a pearle in euery cowslips eare.
 Farewell thou Lob of spirits, Ile be gon,
 Our Queene and all her Elues come heere anon
 
    Rob. The King doth keepe his Reuels here to night,
 Take heed the Queene come not within his sight,
 For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
 Because that she, as her attendant, hath
 A louely boy stolne from an Indian King,
 She neuer had so sweet a changeling,
 And iealous Oberon would haue the childe
 Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrests wilde.
 But she (perforce) with-holds the loued boy,
 Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her ioy.
 And now they neuer meete in groue, or greene,
 By fountaine cleere, or spangled star-light sheene,
 But they do square, that all their Elues for feare
 Creepe into Acorne cups and hide them there
 
    Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
 Or else you are that shrew'd and knauish spirit
 Cal'd Robin Good-fellow. Are you not hee,
 That frights the maidens of the Villagree,
 Skim milke, and sometimes labour in the querne,
 And bootlesse make the breathlesse huswife cherne,
 And sometime make the drinke to beare no barme,
 Misleade night-wanderers, laughing at their harme,
 Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Pucke,
 You do their worke, and they shall haue good lucke.
 Are not you he?
   Rob. Thou speak'st aright;
 I am that merrie wanderer of the night:
 I iest to Oberon, and make him smile,
 When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
 Neighing in likenesse of a silly foale,
 And sometime lurke I in a Gossips bole,
 In very likenesse of a roasted crab:
 And when she drinkes, against her lips I bob,
 And on her withered dewlop poure the Ale.
 The wisest Aunt telling the saddest tale,
 Sometime for three-foot stoole, mistaketh me,
 Then slip I from her bum, downe topples she,
 And tailour cries, and fals into a coffe.
 And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
 And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and sweare,
 A merrier houre was neuer wasted there.
 But roome Fairy, heere comes Oberon
 
    Fair. And heere my Mistris:
 Would that he were gone.
 Enter the King of Fairies at one doore with his traine, and the
 Queene at
 another with hers.
 
   Ob. Ill met by Moone-light.
 Proud Tytania
 
    Qu. What, iealous Oberon? Fairy skip hence.
 I haue forsworne his bed and companie
 
    Ob. Tarrie rash Wanton; am not I thy Lord?
   Qu. Then I must be thy Lady: but I know
 When thou wast stolne away from Fairy Land,
 And in the shape of Corin, sate all day,
 Playing on pipes of Corne, and versing loue
 To amorous Phillida. Why art thou heere
 Come from the farthest steepe of India?
 But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon
 Your buskin'd Mistresse, and your Warrior loue,
 To Theseus must be Wedded; and you come,
 To giue their bed ioy and prosperitie
 
    Ob. How canst thou thus for shame Tytania.
 Glance at my credite, with Hippolita?
 Knowing I know thy loue to Theseus?
 Didst thou not leade him through the glimmering night
 From Peregenia, whom he rauished?
 And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith
 With Ariadne, and Antiopa?
   Que. These are the forgeries of iealousie,
 And neuer since the middle Summers spring
 Met we on hil, in dale, forrest, or mead,
 By paued fountaine, or by rushie brooke,
 Or in the beached margent of the sea,
 To dance our ringlets to the whistling Winde,
 But with thy braules thou hast disturb'd our sport.
 Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine,
 As in reuenge, haue suck'd vp from the sea
 Contagious fogges: Which falling in the Land,
 Hath euerie petty Riuer made so proud,
 That they haue ouer-borne their Continents.
 The Oxe hath therefore stretch'd his yoake in vaine,
 The Ploughman lost his sweat, and the greene Corne
 Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
 The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
 And Crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke,
 The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud,
 And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene,
 For lacke of tread are vndistinguishable.
 The humane mortals want their winter heere,
 No night is now with hymne or caroll blest;
 Therefore the Moone (the gouernesse of floods)
 Pale in her anger, washes all the aire;
 That Rheumaticke diseases doe abound.
 And through this distemperature, we see
 The seasons alter; hoared headed Frosts
 Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson Rose,
 And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne,
 An odorous Chaplet of sweet Sommer buds
 Is as in mockry set. The Spring, the Sommer,
 The childing Autumne, angry Winter change
 Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world,
 By their increase, now knowes not which is which;
 And this same progeny of euills,
 Comes from our debate, from our dissention,
 We are their parents and originall
 
    Ober. Do you amend it then, it lies in you,
 Why should Titania crosse her Oberon?
 I do but beg a little changeling boy,
 To be my Henchman
 
    Qu. Set your heart at rest,
 The Fairy land buyes not the childe of me,
 His mother was a Votresse of my Order,
 And in the spiced Indian aire, by night
 Full often hath she gossipt by my side,
 And sat with me on Neptunes yellow sands,
 Marking th' embarked traders on the flood,
 When we haue laught to see the sailes conceiue,
 And grow big bellied with the wanton winde:
 Which she with pretty and with swimming gate,
 Following (her wombe then rich with my yong squire)
 Would imitate, and saile vpon the Land,
 To fetch me trifles, and returne againe,
 As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
 But she being mortall, of that boy did die,
 And for her sake I doe reare vp her boy,
 And for her sake I will not part with him
 
    Ob. How long within this wood intend you stay?
   Qu. Perchance till after Theseus wedding day.
 If you will patiently dance in our Round,
 And see our Moone-light reuels, goe with vs;
 If not, shun me and I will spare your haunts
 
    Ob. Giue me that boy, and I will goe with thee
 
    Qu. Not for thy Fairy Kingdome. Fairies away:
 We shall chide downe right, if I longer stay.
 
 Exeunt
 
    Ob. Wel, go thy way: thou shalt not from this groue,
 Till I torment thee for this iniury.
 My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest
 Since once I sat vpon a promontory,
 And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,
 Vttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
 That the rude sea grew ciuill at her song,
 And certaine starres shot madly from their Spheares,
 To heare the Sea-maids musicke
 
    Puc. I remember
 
    Ob. That very time I say (but thou couldst not)
 Flying betweene the cold Moone and the earth,
 Cupid all arm'd; a certaine aime he tooke
 At a faire Vestall, throned by the West,
 And loos'd his loue-shaft smartly from his bow,
 As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts,
 But I might see young Cupids fiery shaft
 Quencht in the chaste beames of the watry Moone;
 And the imperiall Votresse passed on,
 In maiden meditation, fancy free.
 Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
 It fell vpon a little westerne flower;
 Before, milke-white: now purple with loues wound,
 And maidens call it, Loue in idlenesse.
 Fetch me that flower; the hearb I shew'd thee once,
 The iuyce of it, on sleeping eye-lids laid,
 Will make or man or woman madly dote
 Vpon the next liue creature that it sees.
 Fetch me this hearbe, and be thou heere againe,
 Ere the Leuiathan can swim a league
 
    Pucke. Ile put a girdle about the earth, in forty minutes
 
    Ober. Hauing once this iuyce,
 Ile watch Titania, when she is asleepe,
 And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
 The next thing when she waking lookes vpon,
 (Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull,
 On medling Monkey, or on busie Ape)
 Shee shall pursue it, with the soule of loue.
 And ere I take this charme off from her sight,
 (As I can take it with another hearbe)
 Ile make her render vp her Page to me.
 But who comes heere? I am inuisible,
 And I will ouer-heare their conference.
 Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
 
   Deme. I loue thee not, therefore pursue me not,
 Where is Lysander, and faire Hermia?
 The one Ile stay, the other stayeth me.
 Thou toldst me they were stolne into this wood;
 And heere am I, and wood within this wood,
 Because I cannot meet my 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 steele. Leaue you your power to draw,
 And I shall haue no power to follow you
 
    Deme. Do I entice you? do I speake you faire?
 Or rather doe I not in plainest truth,
 Tell you I doe not, nor I cannot loue you?
   Hel. And euen for that doe I loue thee the more;
 I am your spaniell, and Demetrius,
 The more you beat me, I will fawne on you.
 Vse me but as your spaniell; spurne me, strike me,
 Neglect me, lose me; onely giue me leaue
 (Vnworthy as I am) to follow you.
 What worser place can I beg in your loue,
 (And yet a place of high respect with me)
 Then to be vsed as you doe your dogge
 
    Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit,
 For I am sicke when I do looke on thee
 
    Hel. And I am sicke when I looke not on you
 
    Dem. You doe impeach your modesty too much,
 To leaue the Citty, and commit your selfe
 Into the hands of one that loues you not,
 To trust the opportunity of night.
 And the ill counsell of a desert place,
 With the rich worth of your virginity
 
    Hel. Your vertue is my priuiledge: for that
 It is not night when I doe see your face.
 Therefore I thinke I am not in the night,
 Nor doth this wood lacke worlds of company,
 For you in my respect are all the world.
 Then how can it be said I am alone,
 When all the world is heere to looke on me?
   Dem. Ile run from thee, and hide me in the brakes,
 And leaue thee to the mercy of wilde beasts
 
    Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you;
 Runne when you will, the story shall be chang'd:
 Apollo flies and Daphne holds the chase;
 The Doue pursues the Griffin, the milde Hinde
 Makes speed to catch the Tyger. Bootlesse speede,
 When cowardise pursues, and valour flies
 
    Demet. I will not stay thy questions, let me go;
 Or if thou follow me, doe not beleeue,
 But I shall doe thee mischiefe in the wood
 
    Hel. I, in the Temple, in the Towne, and Field
 You doe me mischiefe. Fye Demetrius,
 Your wrongs doe set a scandall on my sexe:
 We cannot fight for loue, as men may doe;
 We should be woo'd, and were not made to wooe.
 I follow thee, and make a heauen of hell,
 To die vpon the hand I loue so well.
 Enter.
 
   Ob. Fare thee well Nymph, ere he do leaue this groue,
 Thou shalt flie him, and he shall seeke thy loue.
 Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer.
 Enter Pucke.
 
   Puck. I there it is
 
    Ob. I pray thee giue it me.
 I know a banke where the wilde time blowes,
 Where Oxslips and the nodding Violet growes,
 Quite ouer-cannoped with luscious woodbine,
 With sweet muske roses, and with Eglantine;
 There sleepes Tytania, sometime of the night,
 Lul'd in these flowers, with dances and delight:
 And there the snake throwes her enammel'd skinne,
 Weed wide enough to rap a Fairy in.
 And with the iuyce of this Ile streake her eyes,
 And make her full of hatefull fantasies.
 Take thou some of it, and seek through this groue;
 A sweet Athenian Lady is in loue
 With a disdainefull youth: annoint his eyes,
 But doe it when the next thing he espies,
 May be the Lady. Thou shalt know the man,
 By the Athenian garments he hath on.
 Effect it with some care, that he may proue
 More fond on her, then she vpon her loue;
 And looke thou meet me ere the first Cocke crow
 
    Pu. Feare not my Lord, your seruant shall do so.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Queene of Fairies, with her traine.
 
   Queen. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song;
 Then for the third part of a minute hence,
 Some to kill Cankers in the muske rose buds,
 Some warre with Reremise, for their leathern wings.
 To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe backe
 The clamorous Owle that nightly hoots and wonders
 At our queint spirits: Sing me now asleepe,
 Then to your offices, and let me rest
 
    Fairies Sing. You spotted Snakes with double tongue,
 Thorny Hedgehogges be not seene,
 Newts and blinde wormes do no wrong,
 Come not neere our Fairy Queene.
 Philomele with melodie,
 Sing in your sweet Lullaby.
 Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby,
 Neuer harme, nor spell, nor charme,
 Come our louely Lady nye,
 So good night with Lullaby
 
    2.Fairy. Weauing Spiders come not heere,
 Hence you long leg'd Spinners, hence:
 Beetles blacke approach not neere;
 Worme nor Snayle doe no offence.
 Philomele with melody, &c
 
    1.Fairy. Hence away, now all is well;
 One aloofe, stand Centinell.
 
 Shee sleepes.
 
 Enter Oberon.
 
   Ober. What thou seest when thou dost wake,
 Do it for thy true Loue take:
 Loue and languish for his sake.
 Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,
 Pard, or Boare with bristled haire,
 In thy eye that shall appeare,
 When thou wak'st, it is thy deare,
 Wake when some vile thing is neere.
 Enter Lisander and Hermia.
 
   Lis. Faire loue, you faint with wandring in y woods,
 And to speake troth I haue forgot our way:
 Wee'll rest vs Hermia, If you thinke it good,
 And tarry for the comfort of the day
 
    Her. Be it so Lysander; finde you out a bed,
 For I vpon this banke will rest my head
 
    Lys. One turfe shall serue as pillow for vs both,
 One heart, one bed, two bosomes, and one troth
 
    Her. Nay good Lysander, for my sake my deere
 Lie further off yet, doe not lie so neere
 
    Lys. O take the sence sweet, of my innocence,
 Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,
 I meane that my heart vnto yours is knit,
 So that but one heart can you make of it.
 Two bosomes interchanged with an oath,
 So then two bosomes, and a single troth.
 Then by your side, no bed-roome me deny,
 For lying so, Hermia, I doe not lye
 
    Her. Lysander riddles very prettily;
 Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
 If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied.
 But gentle friend, for loue and courtesie
 Lie further off, in humane modesty,
 Such separation, as may well be said,
 Becomes a vertuous batchelour, and a maide,
 So farre be distant, and good night sweet friend;
 Thy loue nere alter, till thy sweet life end
 
    Lys. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I,
 And then end life, when I end loyalty:
 Heere is my bed, sleepe giue thee all his rest
 
    Her. With halfe that wish, the wishers eyes be prest.
 Enter Pucke. They sleepe.
 
   Puck. Through the Forest haue I gone,
 But Athenian finde I none,
 One whose eyes I might approue
 This flowers force in stirring loue.
 Nigh and silence: who is heere?
 Weedes of Athens he doth weare:
 This is he (my master said)
 Despised the Athenian maide:
 And heere the maiden sleeping sound,
 On the danke and durty ground.
 Pretty soule, she durst not lye
 Neere this lacke-loue, this kill-curtesie.
 Churle, vpon thy eyes I throw
 All the power this charme doth owe:
 When thou wak'st, let loue forbid
 Sleepe his seate on thy eye-lid.
 So awake when I am gone:
 For I must now to Oberon.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Demetrius and Helena running.
 
   Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweete Demetrius
 
    De. I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus
 
    Hel. O wilt thou darkling leaue me? do not so
 
    De. Stay on thy perill, I alone will goe.
 
 Exit Demetrius.
 
   Hel. O I am out of breath, in this fond chace,
 The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace,
 Happy is Hermia, wheresoere she lies;
 For she hath blessed and attractiue eyes.
 How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.
 If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.
 No, no, I am as vgly as a Beare;
 For beasts that meete me, runne away for feare,
 Therefore no maruaile, though Demetrius
 Doe as a monster, flie my presence thus.
 What wicked and dissembling glasse of mine,
 Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyne?
 But who is here? Lysander on the ground;
 Deade or asleepe? I see no bloud, no wound,
 Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake
 
    Lys. And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
 Transparent Helena, nature her shewes art,
 That through thy bosome makes me see thy heart.
 Where is Demetrius? oh 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 loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?
 Yet Hermia still loues you; then be content
 
    Lys. Content with Hermia? no, I do repent
 The tedious minutes I with her haue spent.
 Not Hermia, but Helena now I loue;
 Who will not change a Rauen for a Doue?
 The will of man is by his reason sway'd:
 And reason saies you are the worthier Maide.
 Things growing are not ripe vntill their season;
 So I being yong, till now ripe not to reason,
 And touching now the point of humane skill,
 Reason becomes the Marshall to my will.
 And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke
 Loues stories, written in Loues richest booke
 
    Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
 When at your hands did I deserue this scorne?
 Ist not enough, ist not enough, yong man,
 That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
 Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,
 But you must flout my insufficiency?
 Good troth you do me wrong (good-sooth you do)
 In such disdainfull manner, me to wooe.
 But fare you well; perforce I must confesse,
 I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.
 Oh, that a Lady of one man refus'd,
 Should of another therefore be abus'd.
 Enter
 
    Lys. She sees not Hermia: Hermia sleepe thou there,
 And neuer maist thou come Lysander neere;
 For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
 The deepest loathing to the stomacke brings:
 Or as the heresies that men do leaue,
 Are hated most of those that did deceiue:
 So thou, my surfeit, and my heresie,
 Of all be hated; but the most of me;
 And all my powers addresse your loue and might,
 To honour Helen, and to be her Knight.
 Enter.
 
   Her. Helpe me Lysander, helpe me; do thy best
 To plucke this crawling serpent from my brest.
 Aye me, for pitty; what a dreame was here?
 Lysander looke, how I do quake with feare:
 Me-thought a serpent eate my heart away,
 And yet sat smiling at his cruell prey.
 Lysander, What remoou'd? Lysander, Lord,
 What, out of hearing, gone? No sound, no word?
 Alacke where are you? speake and if you heare:
 Speake of all loues; I sound almost with feare.
 No, then I well perceiue you are not nye,
 Either death or you Ile finde immediately.
 Enter.
 
 
 Actus Tertius.
 
 Enter the Clownes.
 
   Bot. Are we all met?
   Quin. Pat, pat, and here's a maruailous conuenient
 place for our rehearsall. This greene plot shall be our
 stage, this hauthorne brake our tyring house, and we will
 do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke
 
    Bot. Peter Quince?
   Peter. What saist thou, bully Bottome?
   Bot. There are things in this Comedy of Piramus and
 Thisby, that will neuer please. First, Piramus must draw a
 sword to kill himselfe; which the Ladies cannot abide.
 How answere you that?
   Snout. Berlaken, a parlous feare
 
    Star. I beleeue we must leaue the killing out, when
 all is done
 
    Bot. Not a whit, I haue a deuice to make all well.
 Write me a Prologue, and let the Prologue seeme to say,
 we will do no harme with our swords, and that Pyramus
 is not kill'd indeede: and for the more better assurance,
 tell them, that I Piramus am not Piramus, but Bottome the
 Weauer; this will put them out of feare
 
    Quin. Well, we will haue such a Prologue, and it shall
 be written in eight and sixe
 
    Bot. No, make it two more, let it be written in eight
 and eight
 
    Snout. Will not the Ladies be afear'd of the Lyon?
   Star. I feare it, I promise you
 
    Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with your selues, to
 bring in (God shield vs) a Lyon among Ladies, is a most
 dreadfull thing. For there is not a more fearefull wilde
 foule then your Lyon liuing: and wee ought to looke
 to it
 
    Snout. Therefore another Prologue must tell he is not
 a Lyon
 
    Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and halfe his face
 must be seene through the Lyons necke, and he himselfe
 must speake through, saying thus, or to the same defect;
 Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would wish you, or I would
 request you, or I would entreat you, not to feare, not to
 tremble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither
 as a Lyon, it were pitty 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 him plainly hee is Snug the
 ioyner
 
    Quin. Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard
 things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a chamber:
 for you know Piramus and Thisby meete by Moonelight
 
    Sn. Doth the Moone shine that night wee play our
 play?
   Bot. A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack,
 finde out Moone-shine, finde out Moone-shine.
 Enter Pucke.
 
   Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night
 
    Bot. Why then may you leaue a casement of the great
 chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moone
 may shine in at the casement
 
    Quin. I, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns
 and a lanthorne, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present
 the person of Moone-shine. Then there is another
 thing, we must haue a wall in the great Chamber; for Piramus
 and Thisby (saies the story) did talke through the
 chinke of a wall
 
    Sn. You can neuer bring in a wall. What say you
 Bottome?
   Bot. Some man or other must present wall, and let
 him haue some Plaster, or some Lome, or some rough
 cast about him, to signifie wall; or let him hold his fingers
 thus; and through that cranny shall Piramus and
 Thisby whisper
 
    Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit
 downe euery mothers sonne, and rehearse your parts.
 Piramus, you begin; when you haue spoken your speech,
 enter into that Brake, and so euery one according to his
 cue.
 Enter Robin.
 
   Rob. What hempen home-spuns haue we swaggering
 here,
 So neere the Cradle of the Faierie Queene?
 What, a Play toward? Ile be an auditor,
 An Actor too perhaps, if I see cause
 
    Quin. Speake Piramus: Thisby stand forth
 
    Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious sauors sweete
 
    Quin. Odours, odours
 
    Pir. Odours sauors sweete,
 So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby deare.
 But harke, a voyce: stay thou but here a while,
 And by and by I will to thee appeare.
 
 Exit. Pir.
 
   Puck. A stranger Piramus, then ere plaid here
 
    This. Must I speake now?
   Pet. I marry must you. For you must vnderstand he
 goes but to see a noyse that he heard, and is to come againe
 
    Thys. Most radiant Piramus, most Lilly white of hue,
 Of colour like the red rose on triumphant bryer,
 Most brisky Iuuenall, and eke most louely Iew,
 As true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre,
 Ile meete thee Piramus, at Ninnies toombe
 
    Pet. Ninus toombe man: why, you must not speake
 that yet; that you answere to Piramus: you speake all
 your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is
 past; it is neuer tyre
 
    Thys. O, as true as truest horse, that yet would neuer
 tyre:
   Pir. If I were faire, Thisby I were onely thine
 
    Pet. O monstrous. O strange. We are hanted; pray
 masters, flye masters, helpe.
 
 The Clownes all Exit.
 
   Puk. Ile follow you, Ile leade you about a Round,
 Through bogge, through bush, through brake, through bryer,
 Sometime a horse Ile be, sometime a hound:
 A hogge, a headlesse beare, sometime a fire,
 And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne,
 Like horse, hound, hog, beare, fire, at euery turne.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Piramus with the Asse head.
 
   Bot. Why do they run away? This is a knauery of
 them to make me afeard.
 Enter Snowt
 
    Sn. O Bottom, thou art chang'd; What doe I see on
 thee?
   Bot. What do you see? You see an Asse-head of your
 owne, do you?
 Enter Peter Quince.
 
   Pet. Blesse thee Bottome, blesse thee; thou art translated.
 Enter.
 
   Bot. I see their knauery; this is to make an asse of me,
 to fright me if they could; but I will not stirre from
 this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and downe
 here, and I will sing that they shall heare I am not afraid.
 The Woosell cocke, so blacke of hew,
 With Orenge-tawny bill.
 The Throstle, with his note so true,
 The Wren and little quill
 
    Tyta. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?
   Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
 The plainsong Cuckow gray;
 Whose note full many a man doth marke,
 And dares not answere, nay.
 For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
 Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow,
 neuer so?
   Tyta. I pray thee gentle mortall, sing againe,
 Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;
 On the first view to say, to sweare I loue thee.
 So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
 And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue me
 
    Bot. Me-thinkes mistresse, you should haue little
 reason for that: and yet to say the truth, reason and
 loue keepe little company together, nowadayes.
 The more the pittie, that some honest neighbours will
 not make them friends. Nay, I can gleeke vpon occasion
 
    Tyta. Thou art as wise, as thou art beautifull
 
    Bot. Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get
 out of this wood, I haue enough to serue mine owne
 turne
 
    Tyta. Out of this wood, do not desire to goe,
 Thou shalt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no.
 I am a spirit of no common rate:
 The Summer still doth tend vpon my state,
 And I doe loue thee; therefore goe with me,
 Ile giue thee Fairies to attend on thee;
 And they shall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe,
 And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleepe:
 And I will purge thy mortall grossenesse so,
 That thou shalt like an airie spirit go.
 Enter Pease-blossome, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseede, and foure
 Fairies.
 
   Fai. Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where shall we go?
   Tita. Be kinde and curteous to this Gentleman,
 Hop in his walkes, and gambole in his eies,
 Feede him with Apricocks, and Dewberries,
 With purple Grapes, greene Figs, and Mulberries,
 The honie-bags steale from the humble Bees,
 And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighes,
 And light them at the fierie-Glow-wormes eyes,
 To haue my loue to bed, and to arise:
 And plucke the wings from painted Butterflies,
 To fan the Moone-beames from his sleeping eies.
 Nod to him Elues, and doe him curtesies
 
    1.Fai. Haile mortall, haile
 
    2.Fai. Haile
 
    3.Fai. Haile
 
    Bot. I cry your worships mercy hartily; I beseech
 your worships name
 
    Cob. Cobweb
 
    Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good
 Master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold
 with you.
 Your name honest Gentleman?
   Pease. Pease Blossome
 
    Bot. I pray you commend me to mistresse Squash,
 your mother, and to master Peascod your father. Good
 master Pease-blossome, I shal desire of you more acquaintance
 to. Your name I beseech you sir?
   Mus. Mustard-seede
 
    Peas. Pease-blossome
 
    Bot. Good master Mustard seede, I know your patience
 well: that same cowardly gyant-like Oxe beefe
 hath deuoured many a gentleman of your house. I promise
 you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere
 now. I desire you more acquaintance, good Master
 Mustard-seede
 
    Tita. Come waite vpon him, lead him to my bower.
 The Moone me-thinks, lookes with a watrie eie,
 And when she weepes, weepe euerie little flower,
 Lamenting some enforced chastitie.
 Tye vp my louers tongue, bring him silently.
 Enter.
 
 Enter King of Pharies, solus.
 
   Ob. I wonder if Titania be awak't;
 Then what it was that next came in her eye,
 Which she must dote on, in extremitie.
 Enter Pucke.
 
 Here comes my messenger: how now mad spirit,
 What night-rule now about this haunted groue?
   Puck. My Mistris with a monster is in loue,
 Neere to her close and consecrated bower,
 While she was in her dull and sleeping hower,
 A crew of patches, rude Mechanicals,
 That worke for bread vpon Athenian stals,
 Were met together to rehearse a Play,
 Intended for great Theseus nuptiall day:
 The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
 Who Piramus presented, in their sport,
 Forsooke his Scene, and entred in a brake,
 When I did him at this aduantage take,
 An Asses nole I fixed on his head.
 Anon his Thisbie must be answered,
 And forth my Mimmick comes: when they him spie,
 As Wilde-geese, that the creeping Fowler eye,
 Or russed-pated choughes, many in sort
 (Rising and cawing at the guns report)
 Seuer themselues, and madly sweepe the skye:
 So at his sight, away his fellowes flye,
 And at our stampe, here ore and ore one fals;
 He murther cries, and helpe from Athens cals.
 Their sense thus weake, lost with their feares thus strong,
 Made senslesse things begin to do them wrong.
 For briars and thornes at their apparell snatch,
 Some sleeues, some hats, from yeelders all things catch,
 I led them on in this distracted feare,
 And left sweete Piramus translated there:
 When in that moment (so it came to passe)
 Tytania waked, and straightway lou'd an Asse
 
    Ob. This fals out better then I could deuise:
 But hast thou yet lacht the Athenians eyes,
 With the loue iuyce, as I bid thee doe?
   Rob. I tooke him sleeping (that is finisht to)
 And the Athenian woman by his side,
 That when he wak't, of force she must be eyde.
 Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
 
   Ob. Stand close, this is the same Athenian
 
    Rob. This is the woman, but not this the man
 
    Dem. O why rebuke you him that loues you so?
 Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe
 
    Her. Now I but chide, but I should vse thee worse.
 For thou (I feare) hast giuen me cause to curse,
 If thou hast slaine Lysander in his sleepe,
 Being oreshooes in bloud, plunge in the deepe, and kill
 me too:
 The Sunne was not so true vnto the day,
 As he to me. Would he haue stollen away,
 From sleeping Hermia? Ile beleeue as soone
 This whole earth may be bord, and that the Moone
 May through the Center creepe, and so displease
 Her brothers noonetide, with th'Antipodes.
 It cannot be but thou hast murdred him,
 So should a murtherer looke, so dead, so grim
 
    Dem. So should the murderer looke, and so should I,
 Pierst through the heart with your stearne cruelty:
 Yet you the murderer lookes as bright as cleare,
 As yonder Venus in her glimmering spheare
 
    Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
 Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou giue him me?
   Dem. I'de rather giue his carkasse to my hounds
 
    Her. Out dog, out cur, thou driu'st me past the bounds
 Of maidens patience. Hast thou slaine him then?
 Henceforth be neuer numbred among men.
 Oh, once tell true, euen for my sake,
 Durst thou a lookt vpon him, being awake?
 And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O braue tutch:
 Could not a worme, an Adder do so much?
 An Adder did it: for with doubler tongue
 Then thine (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung
 
    Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood,
 I am not guiltie of Lysanders blood:
 Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell
 
    Her. I pray thee tell me then that he is well
 
    Dem. And if I could, what should I get therefore?
   Her. A priuiledge, neuer to see me more;
 And from thy hated presence part I: see me no more
 Whether he be dead or no.
 Enter.
 
   Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vaine,
 Here therefore for a while I will remaine.
 So sorrowes heauinesse doth heauier grow:
 For debt that bankrout slip doth sorrow owe,
 Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
 If for his tender here I make some stay.
 
 Lie downe.
 
   Ob. What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite
 And laid the loue iuyce on some true loues sight:
 Of thy misprision, must perforce ensue
 Some true loue turn'd, and not a false turn'd true
 
    Rob. Then fate ore-rules, that one man holding troth,
 A million faile, confounding oath on oath
 
    Ob. About the wood, goe swifter then the winde,
 And Helena of Athens looke thou finde.
 All fancy sicke she is, and pale of cheere,
 With sighes of loue, that costs the fresh bloud deare.
 By some illusion see thou bring her heere,
 Ile charme his eyes against she doth appeare
 
    Robin. I go, I go, looke how I goe,
 Swifter then arrow from the Tartars bowe.
 Enter.
 
   Ob. Flower of this purple die,
 Hit with Cupids archery,
 Sinke in apple of his eye,
 When his loue he doth espie,
 Let her shine as gloriously
 As the Venus of the sky.
 When thou wak'st if she be by,
 Beg of her for remedy.
 Enter Pucke.
 
   Puck. Captaine of our Fairy band,
 Helena is heere at hand,
 And the youth, mistooke by me,
 Pleading for a Louers fee.
 Shall we their fond Pageant see?
 Lord, what fooles these mortals be!
   Ob. Stand aside: the noyse they make,
 Will cause Demetrius to awake
 
    Puck. Then will two at once wooe one,
 That must needs be sport alone:
 And those things doe best please me,
 That befall preposterously.
 Enter Lysander and Helena.
 
   Lys. Why should you think y I should wooe in scorn?
 Scorne and derision neuer comes in teares:
 Looke when I vow I weepe; and vowes so borne,
 In their natiuity all truth appeares.
 How can these things in me, seeme scorne to you?
 Bearing the badge of faith to proue them true
 
    Hel. You doe aduance your cunning more & more,
 When truth kils truth, O diuelish holy fray!
 These vowes are Hermias. Will you giue her ore?
 Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh.
 Your vowes to her, and me, (put in two scales)
 Will euen weigh, and both as light as tales
 
    Lys. I had no iudgement, when to her I swore
 
    Hel. Nor none in my minde, now you giue her ore
 
    Lys. Demetrius loues her, and he loues not you.
 
 Awa.
 
   Dem. O Helen, goddesse, nimph, perfect, diuine,
 To what, my loue, shall I compare thine eyne!
 Christall is muddy, O how ripe in show,
 Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
 That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow,
 Fan'd with the Easterne winde, turnes to a crow,
 When thou holdst vp thy hand. O let me kisse
 This Princesse of pure white, this seale of blisse
 
    Hell. O spight! O hell! I see you are all bent
 To set against me, for your merriment:
 If you were ciuill, and knew curtesie,
 You would not doe me thus much iniury.
 Can you not hate me, as I know you doe,
 But you must ioyne in soules to mocke me to?
 If you are men, as men you are in show,
 You would not vse a gentle Lady so;
 To vow, and sweare, and superpraise my parts,
 When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
 You both are Riuals, and loue Hermia;
 And now both Riuals to mocke Helena.
 A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,
 To coniure teares vp in a poore maids eyes,
 With your derision; none of noble sort,
 Would so offend a Virgin, and extort
 A poore soules patience, all to make you sport,
   Lysa. You are vnkind Demetrius; be not so,
 For you loue Hermia; this you know I know;
 And here with all good will, with all my heart,
 In Hermias loue I yeeld you vp my part;
 And yours of Helena, To me bequeath,
 Whom I do loue, and will do to my death
 
    Hel. Neuer did mockers wast more idle breth
 
    Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia, I will none:
 If ere I lou'd her, all that loue is gone.
 My heart to her, but as guest-wise soiourn'd,
 And now to Helen it is home return'd,
 There to remaine
 
    Lys. It is not so
 
    De. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
 Lest to thy perill thou abide it deare.
 Looke where thy Loue comes, yonder is thy deare.
 Enter Hermia.
 
   Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
 The eare more quicke of apprehension makes,
 Wherein it doth impaire the seeing sense,
 It paies the hearing double recompence.
 Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found,
 Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that sound.
 But why vnkindly didst thou leaue me so?
   Lysan. Why should hee stay whom Loue doth presse to go?
   Her. What loue could presse Lysander from my side?
   Lys. Lysanders loue (that would not let him bide)
 Faire Helena; who more engilds the night,
 Then all yon fierie oes, and eies of light.
 Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know,
 The hate I bare thee, made me leaue thee so?
   Her. You speake not as you thinke; it cannot be
 
    Hel. Loe, she is one of this confederacy,
 Now I perceiue they haue conioyn'd all three,
 To fashion this false sport in spight of me.
 Iniurous Hermia, most vngratefull maid,
 Haue you conspir'd, haue you with these contriu'd
 To baite me, with this foule derision?
 Is all the counsell that we two haue shar'd,
 The sisters vowes, the houres that we haue spent,
 When wee haue chid the hasty footed time,
 For parting vs; O, is all forgot?
 All schooledaies friendship, child-hood innocence?
 We Hermia, like two Artificiall gods,
 Haue with our needles, 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 mindes
 Had beene incorporate. So we grew together,
 Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
 But yet a vnion in partition,
 Two louely berries molded on one stem,
 So with two seeming bodies, but one heart,
 Two of the first life coats in Heraldry,
 Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
 And will you rent our ancient loue asunder,
 To ioyne with men in scorning your poore friend?
 It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.
 Our sexe as well as I, may chide you for it,
 Though I alone doe feele the iniurie
 
    Her. I am amazed at your passionate words,
 I scorne you not; It seemes that you scorne me
 
    Hel. Haue you not set Lysander, as in scorne
 To follow me, and praise my eies and face?
 And made your other loue, Demetrius
 (Who euen but now did spurne me with his foote)
 To call me goddesse, nimph, diuine, and rare,
 Precious, celestiall? Wherefore speakes he this
 To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
 Denie your loue (so rich within his soule)
 And tender me (forsooth) affection,
 But by your setting on, by your consent?
 What though I be not so in grace as you,
 So hung vpon with loue, so fortunate?
 (But miserable most, to loue vnlou'd)
 This you should pittie, rather then despise
 
    Her. I vnderstand not what you meane by this
 
    Hel. I, doe, perseuer, counterfeit sad lookes,
 Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe,
 Winke each at other, hold the sweete iest vp:
 This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.
 If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners,
 You would not make me such an argument:
 But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault,
 Which death or absence soone shall remedie
 
    Lys. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuse,
 My loue, my life, my soule, faire Helena
 
    Hel. O excellent!
   Her. Sweete, do not scorne her so
 
    Dem. If she cannot entreate, I can compell
 
    Lys. Thou canst compell, no more then she entreate.
 Thy threats haue no more strength then her weak praise.
 Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe;
 I sweare by that which I will lose for thee,
 To proue him false, that saies I loue thee not
 
    Dem. I say, I loue thee more then he can do
 
    Lys. If thou say so, withdraw and proue it too
 
    Dem. Quick, come
 
    Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
   Lys. Away, you Ethiope
 
    Dem. No, no, Sir, seeme to breake loose;
 Take on as you would follow,
 But yet come not: you are a tame man, go
 
    Lys. Hang off thou cat, thou bur; vile thing let loose,
 Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent
 
    Her. Why are you growne so rude?
 What change is this sweete Loue?
   Lys. Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out;
 Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence
 
    Her. Do you not iest?
   Hel. Yes sooth, and so do you
 
    Lys. Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee
 
    Dem. I would I had your bond: for I perceiue
 A weake bond holds you; Ile not trust your word
 
    Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
 Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so
 
    Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate?
 Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Loue?
 Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
 I am as faire now, as I was ere while.
 Since night you lou'd me: yet since night you left me.
 Why then you left me (O the gods forbid)
 In earnest, shall I say?
   Lys. I, by my life;
 And neuer did desire to see thee more.
 Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
 Be certaine, nothing truer: 'tis no iest,
 That I do hate thee, and loue Helena
 
    Her. O me, you iugler, you canker blossome,
 You theefe of loue; What, haue you come by night,
 And stolne my loues heart from him?
   Hel. Fine yfaith:
 Haue you no modesty, no maiden shame,
 No touch of bashfulnesse? What, will you teare
 Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
 Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you
 
    Her. Puppet? why so? I, that way goes the game.
 Now I perceiue that she hath made compare
 Betweene our statures, she hath vrg'd her height,
 And with her personage, her tall personage,
 Her height (forsooth) she hath preuail'd with him.
 And are you growne so high in his esteeme,
 Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
 How low am I, thou painted May-pole? Speake,
 How low am I? I am not yet so low,
 But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes
 
    Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen,
 Let her not hurt me; I was neuer curst:
 I haue no gift at all in shrewishnesse;
 I am a right maide for my cowardize;
 Let her not strike me: you perhaps may thinke,
 Because she is something lower then my selfe,
 That I can match her
 
    Her. Lower? harke againe
 
    Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me,
 I euermore did loue you Hermia,
 Did euer keepe your counsels, neuer wronged you,
 Saue that in loue vnto Demetrius,
 I told him of your stealth vnto this wood.
 He followed you, for loue I followed him,
 But he hath chid me hence, and threatned me
 To strike me, spurne me, nay to kill me too;
 And now, so you will let me quiet go,
 To Athens will I beare my folly backe,
 And follow you no further. Let me go.
 You see how simple, and how fond I am
 
    Her. Why get you gone: who ist that hinders you?
   Hel. A foolish heart, that I leaue here behinde
 
    Her. What, with Lysander?
   Her. With Demetrius
 
    Lys. Be not afraid, she shall not harme thee Helena
 
    Dem. No sir, she shall not, though you take her part
 
    Hel. O when she's angry, she is keene and shrewd,
 She was a vixen when she went to schoole,
 And though she be but little, she is fierce
 
    Her. Little againe? Nothing but low and little?
 Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
 Let me come to her
 
    Lys. Get you gone you dwarfe,
 You minimus, of hindring knot-grasse made,
 You bead, you acorne
 
    Dem. You are too officious,
 In her behalfe that scornes your seruices.
 Let her alone, speake not of Helena,
 Take not her part. For if thou dost intend
 Neuer so little shew of loue to her,
 Thou shalt abide it
 
    Lys. Now she holds me not,
 Now follow if thou dar'st, to try whose right,
 Of thine or mine is most in Helena
 
    Dem. Follow? Nay, Ile goe with thee cheeke by
 iowle.
 
 Exit Lysander and Demetrius.
 
   Her. You Mistris, all this coyle is long of you.
 Nay, goe not backe
 
    Hel. I will not trust you I,
 Nor longer stay in your curst companie.
 Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray,
 My legs are longer though to runne away.
 Enter Oberon and Pucke.
 
   Ob. This is thy negligence, still thou mistak'st,
 Or else committ'st thy knaueries willingly
 
    Puck. Beleeue me, King of shadowes, I mistooke,
 Did not you tell me, I should know the man,
 By the Athenian garments he hath on?
 And so farre blamelesse proues my enterprize,
 That I haue nointed an Athenians eies,
 And so farre am I glad, it so did sort,
 As this their iangling I esteeme a sport
 
    Ob. Thou seest these Louers seeke a place to fight,
 Hie therefore Robin, ouercast the night,
 The starrie Welkin couer thou anon,
 With drooping fogge as blacke as Acheron,
 And lead these testie Riuals so astray,
 As one come not within anothers way.
 Like to Lysander, sometime frame thy tongue,
 Then stirre Demetrius vp with bitter wrong;
 And sometime raile thou like Demetrius;
 And from each other looke thou leade them thus,
 Till ore their browes, death-counterfeiting, sleepe
 With leaden legs, and Battie-wings doth creepe:
 Then crush this hearbe into Lysanders eie,
 Whose liquor hath this vertuous propertie,
 To take from thence all error, with his might,
 and make his eie-bals role with wonted sight.
 When they next wake, all this derision
 Shall seeme a dreame, and fruitless vision,
 And backe to Athens shall the Louers wend
 With league, whose date till death shall neuer end.
 Whiles I in this affaire do thee imploy,
 Ile to my Queene, and beg her Indian Boy;
 And then I will her charmed eie release
 From monsters view, and all things shall be peace
 
    Puck. My Fairie Lord, this must be done with haste,
 For night-swift Dragons cut the Clouds full fast,
 And yonder shines Auroras harbinger;
 At whose approach Ghosts wandring here and there,
 Troope home to Church-yards; damned spirits all,
 That in crosse-waies and flouds haue buriall,
 Alreadie to their wormie beds are gone;
 For feare least day should looke their shames vpon,
 They wilfully themselues exile from light,
 And must for aye consort with blacke browd night
 
    Ob. But we are spirits of another sort:
 I, with the mornings loue haue oft made sport,
 And like a Forrester, the groues may tread,
 Euen till the Easterne gate all fierie red,
 Opening on Neptune, With faire blessed beames,
 Turnes into yellow gold, his salt greene streames.
 But not withstanding haste, make no delay:
 We may effect this businesse, yet ere day
 
    Puck. Vp and downe, vp and downe, I will leade
 them vp and downe: I am fear'd in field and towne.
 Goblin, lead them vp and downe: here comes one.
 Enter Lysander.
 
   Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius?
 Speake thou now
 
    Rob. Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou?
   Lys. I will be with thee straight
 
    Rob. Follow me then to plainer ground.
 Enter Demetrius.
 
   Dem. Lysander, speake againe;
 Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
 Speake in some bush: Where dost thou hide thy head?
   Rob. 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 childe,
 Ile whip thee with a rod. He is defil'd
 That drawes a sword on thee
 
    Dem. Yea, art thou there?
   Ro. Follow my voice, we'l try no manhood here.
 Enter.
 
   Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on,
 When I come where he cals, then he's gone.
 The Villaine is much lighter heel'd then I:
 I followed fast, but faster he did flye;
 
 shifting places.
 
 That fallen am I in darke vneuen way,
 And here wil rest me. Come thou gentle day:
 
 lye down.
 
 For if but once thou shew me thy gray light,
 Ile finde Demetrius, and reuenge this spight.
 Enter Robin and Demetrius.
 
   Rob. Ho, ho, ho; coward, why com'st thou not?
   Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st. For well I wot,
 Thou runst before me, shifting euery place,
 And dar'st not stand, nor looke me in the face.
 Where art thou?
   Rob. Come hither, I am here
 
    Dem. Nay then thou mock'st me; thou shalt buy this
 deere,
 If euer I thy face by day-light see.
 Now goe thy way: faintnesse constraineth me,
 To measure out my length on this cold bed,
 By daies approach looke to be visited.
 Enter Helena.
 
   Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
 Abate thy houres, shine comforts from the East,
 That I may backe to Athens by day-light,
 From these that my poore companie detest;
 And sleepe that sometime shuts vp sorrowes eie,
 Steale me a while from mine owne companie.
 
 Sleepe.
 
   Rob. Yet but three? Come one more,
 Two of both kindes makes vp foure.
 Here she comes, curst and sad,
 Cupid is a knauish lad,
 Enter Hermia.
 
 Thus to make poore females mad
 
    Her. Neuer so wearie, neuer so in woe,
 Bedabbled with the dew, and torne with briars,
 I can no further crawle, no further goe;
 My legs can keepe no pace with my desires.
 Here will I rest me till the breake of day,
 Heauens shield Lysander, if they meane a fray
 
    Rob. On the ground sleepe sound,
 Ile apply your eie gentle louer, remedy.
 When thou wak'st, thou tak'st
 True delight in the sight of thy former Ladies eye,
 And the Country Prouerb knowne,
 That euery man should take his owne,
 In your waking shall be showne.
 Iacke shall haue Iill, nought shall goe ill.
 The man shall haue his Mare againe, and all shall bee
 well.
 
 They sleepe all the Act.
 
 
 Actus Quartus.
 
 Enter Queene of Fairies, and Clowne, and Fairies, and the King
 behinde
 them.
 
   Tita. Come, sit thee downe vpon this flowry bed,
 While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy,
 And sticke muske roses in thy sleeke smoothe head,
 And kisse thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy
 
    Clow. Where's Peaseblossome?
   Peas. Ready
 
    Clow. Scratch my head, Pease-blossome. Wher's Mounsieuer
 Cobweb
 
    Cob. Ready
 
    Clowne. Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsier get your
 weapons in your hand, & kill me a red hipt humble-Bee,
 on the top of a thistle; and good Mounsieur bring mee
 the hony bag. Doe not fret your selfe too much in the
 action, Mounsieur; and good mounsieur haue a care the
 hony bag breake not, I would be loth to haue you ouerflowne
 with a hony-bag signiour. Where's Mounsieur
 Mustardseed?
   Mus. Ready
 
    Clo. Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseed.
 Pray you leaue your courtesie good Mounsieur
 
    Mus. What's your will?
   Clo. Nothing good Mounsieur, but to help Caualery
 Cobweb to scratch. I must to the Barbers Mounsieur, for
 me-thinkes I am maruellous hairy about the face. And I
 am such a tender asse, if my haire do but tickle me, I must
 scratch
 
    Tita. What, wilt thou heare some musicke, my sweet
 loue
 
    Clow. I haue a reasonable good eare in musicke. Let
 vs haue the tongs and the bones.
 
 Musicke Tongs, Rurall Musicke.
 
   Tita. Or say sweete Loue, what thou desirest to eat
 
    Clowne. Truly a pecke of Prouender; I could munch
 your good dry Oates. Me-thinkes I haue a great desire
 to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweete hay hath no fellow
 
    Tita. I haue a venturous Fairy,
 That shall seeke the Squirrels hoard,
 And fetch thee new Nuts
 
    Clown. I had rather haue a handfull or two of dried
 pease. But I pray you let none of your people stirre me, I
 haue an exposition of sleepe come vpon me
 
    Tyta. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my arms,
 Fairies be gone, and be alwaies away.
 So doth the woodbine, the sweet Honisuckle,
 Gently entwist; the female Iuy so
 Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme.
 O how I loue thee! how I dote on thee!
 Enter Robin goodfellow and Oberon.
 
   Ob. Welcome good Robin:
 Seest thou this sweet sight?
 Her dotage now I doe begin to pitty.
 For meeting her of late behinde the wood,
 Seeking sweet sauours for this hatefull foole,
 I did vpbraid her, and fall out with her.
 For she his hairy temples then had rounded,
 With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers.
 And that same dew which somtime on the buds,
 Was wont to swell like round and orient pearles;
 Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes,
 Like teares that did their owne disgrace bewaile.
 When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
 And she in milde termes beg'd my patience,
 I then did aske of her, her changeling childe,
 Which straight she gaue me, and her fairy sent
 To beare him to my Bower in Fairy Land.
 And now I haue the Boy, I will vndoe
 This hatefull imperfection of her eyes.
 And gentle Pucke, take this transformed scalpe,
 From off the head of this Athenian swaine;
 That he awaking when the other doe,
 May all to Athens backe againe repaire,
 And thinke no more of this nights accidents,
 But as the fierce vexation of dreame.
 But first I will release the Fairy Queene.
 Be thou as thou wast wont to be;
 See as thou wast wont to see.
 Dians bud, or Cupids flower,
 Hath such force and blessed power.
 Now my Titania wake you my sweet Queene
 
    Tita. My Oberon, what visions haue I seene!
 Me-thought I was enamoured of an asse
 
    Ob. There lies your loue
 
    Tita. How came these things to passe?
 Oh, how mine eyes doth loath this visage now!
   Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head:
 Titania, musick call, and strike more dead
 Then common sleepe; of all these, fine the sense
 
    Tita. Musicke, ho musicke, such as charmeth sleepe.
 
 Musick still.
 
   Rob. When thou wak'st, with thine owne fooles eies
 peepe
 
    Ob. Sound musick; come my Queen, take hands with me
 And rocke the ground whereon these sleepers be.
 Now thou and I new in amity,
 And will to morrow midnight, solemnly
 Dance in Duke Theseus house triumphantly,
 And blesse it to all faire posterity.
 There shall the paires of faithfull Louers be
 Wedded, with Theseus, all in iollity
 
    Rob. Faire King attend, and marke,
 I doe heare the morning Larke,
   Ob. Then my Queene in silence sad,
 Trip we after the nights shade;
 We the Globe can compasse soone,
 Swifter then the wandering Moone
 
    Tita. Come my Lord, and in our flight,
 Tell me how it came this night,
 That I sleeping heere was found,
 
 Sleepers Lye still.
 
 With these mortals on the ground.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Winde Hornes.
 
 Enter Theseus, Egeus, Hippolita and all his traine.
 
   Thes. Goe one of you, finde out the Forrester,
 For now our obseruation is perform'd;
 And since we haue the vaward of the day,
 My Loue shall heare the musicke of my hounds.
 Vncouple in the Westerne valley, let them goe;
 Dispatch I say, and finde the Forrester.
 We will faire Queene, vp to the Mountains top,
 And marke the musicall confusion
 Of hounds and eccho in coniunction
 
    Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once.
 When in a wood of Creete they bayed the Beare
 With hounds of Sparta; neuer did I heare
 Such gallant chiding. For besides the groues,
 The skies, the fountaines, euery region neere,
 Seeme all one mutuall cry. I neuer heard
 So musicall a discord, such sweet thunder
 
    Thes. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kinde,
 So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung
 With eares that sweepe away the morning dew,
 Crooke kneed, and dew-lapt, like Thessalian Buls,
 Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bels,
 Each vnder each. A cry more tuneable
 Was neuer hallowed to, nor cheer'd with horne,
 In Creete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly;
 Iudge when you heare. But soft, what nimphs are these?
   Egeus. My Lord, this is my daughter heere asleepe,
 And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
 This Helena, olde Nedars Helena,
 I wonder of this being heere together
 
    The. No doubt they rose vp early, to obserue
 The right of May; and hearing our intent,
 Came heere in grace of our solemnity.
 But speake Egeus, is not this the day
 That Hermia should giue answer of her choice?
   Egeus. It is, my Lord
 
    Thes. Goe bid the hunts-men wake them with their
 hornes.
 
 Hornes and they wake.
 
 Shout within, they all start vp.
 
   Thes. Good morrow friends: Saint Valentine is past,
 Begin these wood birds but to couple now?
   Lys. Pardon my Lord
 
    Thes. I pray you all stand vp.
 I know you two are Riuall enemies.
 How comes this gentle concord in the world,
 That hatred is so farre from iealousie,
 To sleepe by hate, and feare no enmity
 
    Lys. My Lord, I shall reply amazedly,
 Halfe sleepe, halfe waking. but as yet, I sweare,
 I cannot truly say how I came heere.
 But as I thinke (for truly would I speake)
 And now I doe bethinke me, so it is;
 I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
 Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be
 Without the perill of the Athenian Law
 
    Ege. Enough, enough, my Lord: you haue enough;
 I beg the Law, the Law, vpon his head:
 They would have stolne away, they would Demetrius,
 Thereby to haue 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, faire Helen told me of their stealth,
 Of this their purpose hither, to this wood,
 And I in furie hither followed them;
 Faire Helena, in fancy followed me.
 But my good Lord, I wot not by what not by what power,
 (But by some power it is) my loue
 To Hermia (melted as the snow)
 Seems to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaude,
 Which in my childehood I did doat vpon:
 And all the faith, the vertue of my heart,
 The obiect and the pleasure of mine eye,
 Is onely Helena. To her, my Lord,
 Was I betroth'd, ere I see Hermia,
 But like a sickenesse did I loath this food,
 But as in health, come to my naturall taste,
 Now doe I wish it, loue it, long for it,
 And will for euermore be true to it
 
    Thes. Faire Louers, you are fortunately met;
 Of this discourse we shall heare more anon.
 Egeus, I will ouer-beare your will;
 For in the Temple, by and by with vs,
 These couples shall eternally be knit.
 And for the morning now is something worne,
 Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.
 Away, with vs to Athens; three and three,
 Wee'll hold a feast in great solemnitie.
 Come Hippolita.
 
 Exit Duke and Lords.
 
   Dem. These things seeme small & vndistinguishable,
 Like farre off mountaines turned into Clouds
 
    Her. Me-thinks I see these things with parted eye,
 When euery thing seemes double
 
    Hel. So me-thinkes:
 And I haue found Demetrius, like a iewell,
 Mine owne, and not mine owne
 
    Dem. It seemes to mee,
 That yet we sleepe, we dreame. Do not you thinke,
 The Duke was heere, and bid vs follow him?
   Her. Yea, and my Father
 
    Hel. And Hippolita
 
    Lys. And he bid vs follow to the Temple
 
    Dem. Why then we are awake; lets follow him, and
 by the way let vs recount our dreames.
 
 Bottome wakes.
 
 Exit Louers.
 
   Clo. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer.
 My next is, most faire Piramus. Hey ho. Peter Quince?
 Flute the bellowes-mender? Snout the tinker? Starueling?
 Gods my life! Stolne hence, and left me asleepe: I
 haue had a most rare vision. I had a dreame, past the wit
 of man, to say, what dreame it was. Man is but an Asse,
 if he goe about to expound this dreame. Me-thought I
 was, there is no man can tell what. Me-thought I was,
 and me-thought I had. But man is but a patch'd foole,
 if he will offer to say, what me-thought I had. The eye of
 man hath not heard, the eare of man hath not seen, mans
 hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceiue, nor his
 heart to report, what my dreame was. I will get Peter
 Quince to write a ballet of this dreame, it shall be called
 Bottomes Dreame, because it hath no bottome; and I will
 sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peraduenture,
 to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it
 at her death.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Quince, Flute, Thisbie, Snout, and Starueling.
 
   Quin. Haue you sent to Bottomes house? Is he come
 home yet?
   Staru. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt hee is
 transported
 
    This. If he come not, then the play is mar'd. It goes
 not forward, doth it?
   Quin. It is not possible: you haue not a man in all
 Athens, able to discharge Piramus but he
 
    This. No, hee hath simply the best wit of any handycraft
 man in Athens
 
    Quin. Yea, and the best person too, and hee is a very
 Paramour, for a sweet voyce
 
    This. You must say, Paragon. A Paramour is (God
 blesse vs) a thing of nought.
 Enter Snug the Ioyner.
 
   Snug. Masters, the Duke is comming from the Temple,
 and there is two or three Lords & Ladies more married.
 If our sport had gone forward, we had all bin made
 men
 
    This. O sweet bully Bottome: thus hath he lost sixepence
 a day, during his life; he could not haue scaped sixpence
 a day. And the Duke had not giuen him sixpence
 a day for playing Piramus, Ile be hang'd. He would haue
 deserued it. Sixpence a day in Piramus, or nothing.
 Enter Bottome.
 
   Bot. Where are these Lads? Where are these hearts?
   Quin. Bottome, o most couragious day! O most happie
 houre!
   Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me
 not what. For if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I
 will tell you euery thing as it fell out
 
    Qu. Let vs heare, sweet Bottome
 
    Bot. Not a word of me: all that I will tell you, is, that
 the Duke hath dined. Get your apparell together, good
 strings to your beards, new ribbands to your pumps,
 meete presently at the Palace, euery man looke ore his
 part: for the short and the long is, our play is preferred:
 In any case let Thisby haue cleane linnen: and let not him
 that playes the Lion, paire his nailes, for they shall hang
 out for the Lions clawes. And most deare Actors, eate
 no Onions, nor Garlicke; for wee are to vtter sweete
 breath, and I doe not doubt but to heare them say, it is a
 sweet Comedy. No more words: away, go away.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 
 Actus Quintus.
 
 Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords.
 
   Hip. 'Tis strange my Theseus, y these louers speake of
 
    The. More strange then true. I neuer may beleeue
 These anticke fables, nor these Fairy toyes,
 Louers and mad men haue such seething braines,
 Such shaping phantasies, that apprehend more
 Then coole reason euer comprehends.
 The Lunaticke, the Louer, and the Poet,
 Are of imagination all compact.
 One sees more diuels then vaste hell can hold;
 That is the mad man. The Louer, all as franticke,
 Sees Helens beauty in a brow of Egipt.
 The Poets eye in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance
 From heauen to earth, from earth to heauen.
 And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things
 Vnknowne; the Poets pen turnes them to shapes,
 And giues to aire nothing, a locall habitation,
 And a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination,
 That if it would but apprehend some ioy,
 It comprehends some bringer of that ioy.
 Or in the night, imagining some feare,
 Howe easie is a bush suppos'd a Beare?
   Hip. But all the storie of the night told ouer,
 And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
 More witnesseth than fancies images,
 And growes to something of great constancie;
 But howsoeuer, strange, and admirable.
 Enter louers, Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.
 
   The. Heere come the louers, full of ioy and mirth:
 Ioy, gentle friends, ioy and fresh dayes
 Of loue accompany your hearts
 
    Lys. More then to vs, waite in your royall walkes,
 your boord, your bed
 
    The. Come now, what maskes, what dances shall
 we haue,
 To weare away this long age of three houres,
 Between our after supper, and bed-time?
 Where is our vsuall manager of mirth?
 What Reuels are in hand? Is there no play,
 To ease the anguish of a torturing houre?
 Call Egeus
 
    Ege. Heere mighty Theseus
 
    The. Say, what abridgement haue you for this euening?
 What maske? What musicke? How shall we beguile
 The lazie time, if not with some delight?
   Ege. There is a breefe how many sports are rife:
 Make choise of which your Highnesse will see first
 
    Lis. The battell with the Centaurs to be sung
 By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe
 
    The. Wee'l none of that. That haue I told my Loue
 In glory of my kinsman Hercules
 
    Lis. The riot of the tipsie Bachanals,
 Tearing the Thracian singer, in their rage?
   The. That is an old deuice, and it was plaid
 When I from Thebes came last a Conqueror
 
    Lis. The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death
 of learning, late deceast in beggerie
 
    The. That is some Satire keene and criticall,
 Not sorting with a nuptiall ceremonie
 
    Lis. A tedious breefe Scene of yong Piramus,
 And his loue Thisby; very tragicall mirth
 
    The. Merry and tragicall? Tedious, and briefe? That
 is, hot ice, and wondrous strange snow. How shall wee
 finde the concord of this discord?
   Ege. A play there is, my Lord, some ten words long,
 Which is as breefe, as I haue knowne a play;
 But by ten words, my Lord, it is too long;
 Which makes it tedious. For in all the play,
 There is not one word apt, one Player fitted.
 And tragicall my noble Lord it is: for Piramus
 Therein doth kill himselfe. Which when I saw
 Rehearst, I must confesse, made mine eyes water:
 But more merrie teares, the passion of loud laughter
 Neuer shed
 
    Thes. What are they that do play it?
   Ege. Hard handed men, that worke in Athens heere,
 Which neuer labour'd in their mindes till now;
 And now haue toyled their vnbreathed memories
 With this same play, against your nuptiall
 
    The. And we will heare it
 
    Hip. No my noble Lord, it is not for you. I haue heard
 It ouer, and it is nothing, nothing in the world;
 Vnless you can finde sport in their intents,
 Extreamely stretched, and cond with cruell paine,
 To doe you seruice
 
    Thes. I will heare that play. For neuer any thing
 Can be amisse, when simplenesse and duty tender it.
 Goe bring them in, and take your places, Ladies
 
    Hip. I loue not to see wretchednesse orecharged;
 And duty in his seruice perishing
 
    Thes. Why gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing
 
    Hip. He saies, they can doe nothing in this kinde
 
    Thes. The kinder we, to giue them thanks for nothing
 Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake;
 And what poore duty cannot doe, noble respect
 Takes it in might, not merit.
 Where I haue come, great Clearkes haue purposed
 To greete me with premeditated welcomes;
 Where I haue seene them shiuer and looke pale,
 Make periods in the midst of sentences,
 Throttle their practiz'd accent in their feares,
 And in conclusion, dumbly haue broke off,
 Not paying me a welcome. Trust me sweete,
 Out of this silence yet, I pickt a welcome:
 And in the modesty of fearefull duty,
 I read as much, as from the ratling tongue
 Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
 Loue therefore, and tongue-tide simplicity,
 In least, speake most, to my capacity
 
    Egeus. So please your Grace, the Prologue is addrest
 
    Duke. Let him approach.
 
 Flor. Trum.
 
 Enter the Prologue. Quince.
 
   Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.
 That you should thinke, we come not to offend,
 But with good will. To shew our simple skill,
 That is the true beginning of our end.
 Consider then, we come but in despight.
 We do not come, as minding to content you,
 Our true intent is. All for your delight,
 We are not heere. That you should here repent you,
 The Actors are at hand; and by their show,
 You shall know all, that you are like to know
 
    Thes. This fellow doth not stand vpon points
 
    Lys. He hath rid his Prologue, like a rough Colt: he
 knowes not the stop. A good morall my lord. it is not
 enough to speake, but to speake true
 
    Hip. Indeed hee hath plaid on his Prologue, like a
 childe on a Recorder, a sound, but not in gouernment
 
    Thes. His speech was like a tangled chaine: nothing
 impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?
 
 Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.
 
 Enter Pyramus and Thisby, Wall, Moone-shine, and Lyon.
 
   Prol. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show,
 But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine.
 This man is Piramus, if you would know;
 This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine.
 This man, with lyme and rough-cast, doth present
 Wall, that vile wall, which did these louers sunder:
 And through walls chink (poor soules) they are content
 To whisper. At the which, let no man wonder.
 This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and bush of thorne,
 Presenteth moone-shine. For if you will know,
 By moone-shine did these Louers thinke no scorne
 To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe:
 This grizly beast (which Lyon hight by name)
 The trusty Thisby, comming first by night,
 Did scarre away, or rather did affright:
 And as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
 Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did staine.
 Anon comes Piramus, sweet youth and tall,
 And findes his Thisbies Mantle slaine;
 Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade,
 He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breast,
 And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry shade,
 His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
 Let Lyon, Moone-shine, Wall, and Louers twaine,
 At large discourse, while here they doe remaine.
 
 Exit all but Wall.
 
   Thes. I wonder if the Lion be to speake
 
    Deme. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when
 many Asses doe.
 
 Exit Lyon, Thisbie, and Mooneshine.
 
   Wall. In this same Interlude, it doth befall,
 That I, one Snowt (by name) present a wall:
 And such a wall, as I would haue you thinke,
 That had in it a crannied hole or chinke:
 Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie
 Did whisper often, very secretly.
 This loame, this rough-cast, and this stone doth shew,
 That I am that same Wall; the truth is so.
 And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
 Through which the fearfull Louers are to whisper
 
    Thes. Would you desire Lime and Haire to speake
 better?
   Deme. It is the wittiest partition, that euer I heard
 discourse, my Lord
 
    Thes. Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, silence.
 Enter Pyramus.
 
   Pir. O grim lookt night, o night with hue so blacke,
 O night, which euer art, when day is not:
 O night, o night, alacke, alacke, alacke,
 I feare my Thisbies promise is forgot.
 And thou o wall, thou sweet and louely wall,
 That stands between her fathers ground and mine,
 Thou wall, o Wall, o sweet and louely wall,
 Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through with mine eine.
 Thankes courteous wall. Ioue shield thee well for this.
 But what see I? No Thisbie doe I see.
 O wicked wall, through whom I see no blisse,
 Curst be thy stones for thus deceiuing mee
 
    Thes. The wall me-thinkes being sensible, should
 curse againe
 
    Pir. No in truth sir, he should not. Deceiuing me,
 Is Thisbies cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy
 Her through the wall. You shall see it will fall.
 Enter Thisbie.
 
 Pat as I told you; yonder she comes
 
    This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my mones,
 For parting my faire Piramus, and me
 My cherry lips haue often kist thy stones;
 Thy stones with Lime and Haire knit vp in thee
 
    Pyra. I see a voyce; now will I to the chinke,
 To spy and I can heare my Thisbies face. Thisbie?
   This. My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke
 
    Pir. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Louers grace,
 And like Limander am I trusty still
 
    This. And like Helen till the Fates me kill
 
    Pir. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true
 
    This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you
 
    Pir. O kisse me through the hole of this vile wall
 
    This. I kisse the wals hole, not your lips at all
 
    Pir. Wilt thou at Ninnies tombe meete me straight
 way?
   This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay
 
    Wall. Thus haue I Wall, my part discharged so;
 And being done, thus Wall away doth go.
 
 Exit Clow.
 
   Du. Now is the morall downe between the two
 Neighbours
 
    Dem. No remedie my Lord, when Wals are so wilfull,
 to heare without warning
 
    Dut. This is the silliest stuffe that ere I heard
 
    Du. The best in this kind are but shadowes, and the
 worst are no worse, if imagination amend them
 
    Dut. It must be your imagination then, & not theirs
 
    Duk. If wee imagine no worse of them then they of
 themselues, they may passe for excellent men. Here com
 two noble beasts, in a man and a Lion.
 Enter Lyon and Moone-shine
 
    Lyon. You Ladies, you (whose gentle harts do feare
 The smallest monstrous mouse that creepes on floore)
 May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere,
 When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roare.
 Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am
 A Lion fell, nor else no Lions dam:
 For if I should as Lion come in strife
 Into this place, 'twere pittie of my life
 
    Du. A verie gentle beast, and of good conscience
 
    Dem. The verie best at a beast, my Lord, y ere I saw
 
    Lis. This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor
 
    Du. True, and a Goose for his discretion
 
    Dem. Not so my Lord: for his valor cannot carrie
 his discretion, and the fox carries the Goose
 
    Du. His discretion I am sure cannot carrie his valor:
 for the Goose carries not the Fox. It is well; leaue it to
 his discretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone
 
    Moone. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone present
 
    De. He should haue worne the hornes on his head
 
    Du. Hee is no crescent, and his hornes are inuisible,
 within the circumference
 
    Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moone present:
 My selfe, the man i'th Moone doth seeme to be
 
    Du. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man
 Should be put into the Lanthorne. How is it els the man
 i'th Moone?
   Dem. He dares not come there for the candle.
 For you see, it is already in snuffe
 
    Dut. I am wearie of this Moone; would he would
 change
 
    Du. It appeares by his smal light of discretion, that
 he is in the wane: but yet in courtesie, in all reason, we
 must stay the time
 
    Lys. Proceed Moone
 
    Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the
 Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this
 thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my dog
 
    Dem. Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for
 they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes Thisby.
 Enter Thisby.
 
   This. This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue?
   Lyon. Oh.
 
 The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.
 
   Dem. Well roar'd Lion
 
    Du. Well run Thisby
 
    Dut. Well shone Moone.
 Truly the Moone shines with a good grace
 
    Du. Wel mouz'd Lion
 
    Dem. And then came Piramus
 
    Lys. And so the Lion vanisht.
 Enter Piramus.
 
   Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy sunny beames,
 I thanke thee Moone, for shining now so bright:
 For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames,
 I trust to taste of truest Thisbies sight.
 But stay: O spight! but marke, poore Knight,
 What dreadful dole is heere?
 Eyes do you see! How can it be!
 O dainty Ducke: O Deere!
 Thy mantle good; what staind with blood!
 Approch you furies fell:
 O Fates! come, come: Cut thred and thrum,
 Quaile, crush, conclude, and quell
 
    Du. This passion, and the death of a deare friend,
 Would go neere to make a man looke sad
 
    Dut. Beshrew my heart, but I pittie the man
 
    Pir. O wherefore Nature, did'st thou Lions frame?
 Since lion vilde hath heere deflour'd my deere:
 Which is: no, no, which was the fairest Dame
 That liu'd, that lou'd, that like'd, that look'd with cheere.
 Come teares, confound: Out sword, and wound
 The pap of Piramus:
 I, that left pap, where heart doth hop;
 Thus dye I, thus, thus, thus.
 Now am I dead, now am I fled, my soule is in the sky,
 Tongue lose thy light, Moone take thy flight,
 Now dye, dye, dye, dye, dye
 
    Dem. No Die, but an ace for him; for he is but one
 
    Lis. Lesse then an ace man. For he is dead, he is nothing
 
    Du. With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet recouer,
 and proue an Asse
 
    Dut. How chance Moone-shine is gone before?
 Thisby comes backe, and findes her Louer.
 Enter Thisby.
 
   Duke. She wil finde him by starre-light.
 Heere she comes, and her passion ends the play
 
    Dut. Me thinkes shee should not vse a long one for
 such a Piramus: I hope she will be breefe
 
    Dem. A Moth wil turne the ballance, which Piramus
 which Thisby is the better
 
    Lys. She hath spyed him already, with those sweete eyes
 
    Dem. And thus she meanes, videlicit
 
    This. Asleepe my Loue? What, dead my Doue?
 O Piramus arise:
 Speake, speake. Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A tombe
 Must couer thy sweet eyes.
 These Lilly Lips, this cherry nose,
 These yellow Cowslip cheekes
 Are gone, are gone: Louers make mone:
 His eyes were greene as Leekes.
 O Sisters three, come, come to mee,
 With hands as pale as Milke,
 Lay them in gore, since you haue shore
 with sheeres, his thred of silke.
 Tongue not a word: Come trusty sword:
 Come blade, my brest imbrue:
 And farwell friends, thus Thisbie ends;
 Adieu, adieu, adieu
 
    Duk. Moone-shine & Lion are left to burie the dead
 
    Deme. I, and Wall too
 
    Bot. No, I assure you, the wall is downe, that parted
 their Fathers. Will it please you to see the Epilogue, or
 to heare a Bergomask dance, betweene two of our company?
   Duk. No Epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs
 no excuse. Neuer excuse; for when the plaiers are all
 dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if hee that
 writ it had plaid Piramus, and hung himselfe in Thisbies
 garter, it would haue beene a fine Tragedy: and so it is
 truely, and very notably discharg'd. but come, your
 Burgomaske; let your Epilogue alone.
 The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelue.
 Louers to bed, 'tis almost Fairy time.
 I feare we shall out-sleepe the comming morne,
 As much as we this night haue ouer-watcht.
 This palpable grosse play hath well beguil'd
 The heauy gate of night. Sweet friends to bed.
 A fortnight hold we this solemnity.
 In nightly Reuels; and new iollitie.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Pucke.
 
   Puck. Now the hungry Lyons rores,
 And the Wolfe beholds the Moone:
 Whilest the heauy ploughman snores,
 All with weary taske fore-done.
 Now the wasted brands doe glow,
 Whil'st the scritch-owle, scritching loud,
 Puts the wretch that lies in woe,
 In remembrance of a shrowd.
 Now it is the time of night,
 That the graues, all gaping wide,
 Euery one lets forth his spright,
 In the Church-way paths to glide,
 And we Fairies, that do runne,
 By the triple Hecates teame,
 From the presence of the Sunne,
 Following darkenesse like a dreame,
 Now are frollicke; not a Mouse
 Shall disturbe this hallowed house.
 I am sent with broome before,
 To sweep the dust behinde the doore.
 Enter King and Queene of Fairies, with their traine.
 
   Ob. Through the house giue glimmering light,
 By the dead and drowsie fier,
 Euerie Elfe and Fairie spright,
 Hop as light as bird from brier,
 And this Ditty after me, sing and dance it trippinglie,
   Tita. First rehearse this song by roate,
 To each word a warbling note.
 Hand in hand, with Fairie grace,
 Will we sing and blesse this place.
 
 The Song.
 
 Now vntill the breake of day,
 Through this house each Fairy stray.
 To the best Bride-bed will we,
 Which by vs shall blessed be:
 And the issue there create,
 Euer shall be fortunate:
 So shall all the couples three,
 Euer true in louing be:
 And the blots of Natures hand,
 Shall not in their issue stand.
 Neuer mole, harelip, nor scarre,
 nor mark prodigious, such as are
 Despised in Natiuitie,
 Shall vpon their children be.
 With this field dew consecrate,
 Euery Fairy take his gate,
 And each seuerall chamber blesse,
 Through this Pallace with sweet peace,
 Euer shall in safety rest.
 And the owner of it blest.
 Trip away, make no stay;
 Meet me all by breake of day
 
    Robin. If we shadowes haue offended,
 Thinke but this (and all is mended)
 That you haue but slumbred heere,
 While these Visions did appeare.
 And this weake and idle theame,
 No more yeelding but a dreame,
 Gentles, doe not reprehend.
 If you pardon, we will mend.
 And as I am an honest Pucke,
 If we haue vnearned lucke,
 Now to scape the Serpents tongue,
 We will make amends ere long:
 Else the Pucke a lyar call.
 So good night vnto you all.
 Giue me your hands, if we be friends,
 And Robin shall restore amends.
 
 FINIS. A MIDSOMMER Nights Dreame.
 
 

Next: The Merchant of Venice