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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-sced!
Enter four Fairies. 1 Fai. Ready. 2 Fai. And I. 3 Fai.
And I. 4 Fai.
Where shall we go? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes 43, To have my love to bed, and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, To fan the moon beams from his sleeping eyes: Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1 Fai. Hail, mortal!
Bot. I cry your worships mercy, heartily. I beseech, your worship's name.
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?
Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustard-seed.
Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like, ox-beef hath devoured 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-seed. Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Another part of the Wood.
Enter Puck. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, Were met together to rehearse a play, Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day. The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport Forsook his scene, and enter'd in a brake: When I did him at this advantage take, An ass's now] 44 I fixed on his head; Anon, bis Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimick comes: When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun's report
Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky;
Obe. This falls out better, than I could devise.
Puck. I took him sleeping,- that is finish'd too,And the Athenian woman by his side; That, when he wak’d, of force she must be ey'd.
Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA. Obe. Stand close; this is the same Athenian. Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man.
Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day,
Dem. So should the murder'd look; and so should I.
Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the
bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? Henceforth be never number'd among men! O! once tell true, tell true, even for my sake; Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake, And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch! Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung. Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd
mood: I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.