That they have overborne their continents: The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat; and the green

corn

Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud;
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here;
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound:
And thorough this distemperature, we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose;
And on old Hyems' chin, and icy crown,
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: The spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries; and the 'mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is
And this same progeny of evils comes [which:
From our debate, froin our dissension;
We are their parents and original.

Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my henchman.

Tita.
Set your heart at rest,
The fairy land buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot'ress of my order:
And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
Full often hath she gossip'd by my side;
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
Marking the embarked traders on the flood;
When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied, with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
Following (her womb, then rich with my young
'squire),

Would imitate; and sail upon the land,
To fetch me trifles, and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
And, for her sake, I do rear up her boy:
And, for her sake, I will not part with him,
Obe. How long within this wood intend you
stay?
[day.
Tita. Perchance, till after Theseus' wedding-
If you will patiently dance in our round,
And see our moon-light revels, go with us;
If not shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
Obe. Give me that boy, and I will go with
[away;
Tita. Not for thy fairy kingdom.-Fairies,
We shall chide down-right, if I longer stay.
[Exeunt TITANIA, and her Train.
Obe. Well go thy way; thou shalt not from
this grove,

thee.

Till I torment thee for this injury.-
My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remember'st
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song;
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music.
I remember.

Puck.

Obe. That very time I saw (but thou could'st not).

Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took

At a fair vestal, throned by the west;
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts:
But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watry
And the imperial vot'ress passed on, [moon;
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,—
Before, milk-white; now purple with love's
And maidens call it, love-in-idleness. [wound---
Fetch me that flower: the herb I show'd thee
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid, [once:
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb: and be thou here again,
Ere the Leviathan can swim a league.
Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
[Exit Puck.
Obe.
Having once this juice,
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she waking looks upon
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape),
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm off from her sight
(As I can take it with another herb),
I'll make her render up her page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.

Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him.
Dem. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia?
The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
Thou told'st me they were stol'n into this wood,
And here am I, and wood within this wood,
Because I cannot meet with Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.

Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not irou, for my heart Is true as steel; Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.

Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth Tell you-I do not, nor I cannot love you?

Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you.

What worser place can I beg in your love, (Add yet a place of high respect with me), Than to be used as you do use your dog?

Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my For I am sick, when I do look on thee. [spirit; Hel. And I am sick, when I look not on you. Dem. You do impeach your modesty too much To leave the city, and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night. And the ill counsel of a desert place, | With the rich worth of your virginity. Hel. Your virtue is my privilege for that, It is not night, when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night: Nor doth this wood lack 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 here to look on me? Dem. I'll run from thee, and hide me in the brakes,

And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you

The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt
tears:

If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;

For beasts that meet me, run away for fear.
Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here ?-Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound ;-
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.
Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy
sweet sake.
[Waking.
Transparent Helena; Nature shows her art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?

Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.
Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent
The tedious minutes I have with her spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena I love:

Who will not change a raven for a dove:
The will of man is by his reason sway'd;
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season:
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes; where I o'erlook
Love's stories written in love's richest book.
Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery
born?

When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well: perforce I must confess,
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
O, that a lady, of one man refus'd,
Should, of another, therefore be abus'd!
Lys. She sees not Hermia-Hermia,
thou there;

[Exit. sleep

And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Or, as the heresies, that men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy,
Of all be hated; but the most of me!
And all my powers, address your love and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her knight! [Exit.
Her. [starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me!
do thy best,

To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ah me, for pity !-what a dream was here?
Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear:
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey:-
Lysander! what remov'd? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear;
Speak, of all the loves: I swoon almost with fear.
No?- then I well perceive you are not nigh:
Either death, or you, I'll find immediately.

Exit,

Art Third.

SCENE I. The same. The Queen of Fairies lying asleep.

Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING.

Bot. Are we all met?

Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal: This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.

Bot. Peter Quince,

Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom?

Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer

Snout. By'rlakin, a parlous fear. [you that? Star. I believe, we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords; and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better assurance, tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear.

Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.

Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

Shout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Star. I fear it, I promise you.

Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it.

Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell, he is not a lion.

Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: No, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men are:and there, indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.

Snug. Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?

Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; find out moon-shine, find out moon

shine.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.

Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the case

ment.

Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk through the chink of a wall.

K

Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom?

Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery
bed?
Waking.
Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark.
The plain-song cuckoo gray.

Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay;-

Enter PUCK behind.

swaggering here,

So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;
An actor, too, perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,
Quin. Odours, odours.

Pyr. - odours savours sweet:

So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.But hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! [Aside.-Exit. Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. [hue,

This. Must I speak now?

of

This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most brisky Juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire, I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.

Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: Why you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus, you speak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus, enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire.

Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head. This. O,--As true as truest horse that yet would! never tire.

Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine,-Quin. O monstrous! Ostrange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! help!

[Exeunt Clowns, Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, [through brier; Through bog, through bush, through brake, Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,

Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days: The more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.

Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.

Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go;
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate:
The summer still doth tend upon my state.
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me,
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep:
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost
sleep:

And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go,.-
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-
seed!

All. Where shall we go?

Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble bees. And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glowworm's eyes, To have my love to bed, and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies. To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes: Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. 1 Fai. Hail, mortal!

2 Fai. Hail!

(Exit.

3 Fai. Hail!

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

Re-enter SNOUT. Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee? [of your own; Do you? Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head Re-enter QUINCE. Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. Exit. Bot. I see their knavery; this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. [Sings. The ousel-cock, so black of hue, With orange-tawny bill, The throstle with his note so true, The wren with little quill.