To have my love to bed, and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, 2 Fai. Hail! 3 Fai. Hail! 4 Fai. Hail! I led them on in this distracted fear, Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. Puck. I took him sleeping,-that is finish'd too, Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I And the Athenian woman by his side; beseech, your worship's name. Cob. Cobweb. 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 should use thee worse; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox- And kill me too. beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your The sun was not so true unto the day, Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon, [Exeunt. Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, SCENE II.-Another part of the wood. Enter As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Oberon. Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak'd; Enter Puck. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. Anon, his Thisbe must be answered, Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. And if I could, what should I get therefore? Her. A privilege, never to see me more. And forth my mimic comes: when they him spy, And from thy hated presence part I so: As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: catch. See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. [Lies down. Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that one man hold-When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts. ing troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. You both are rivals, and love Hermia; And now both rivals, to mock Helena: Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, And Helena of Athens look thou find : All fancy-sick' she is, and pale of cheer2 To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes, With your derision! none, of noble sort,4 With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Would so offend a virgin; and extort By some illusion see thou bring her here; Sink in apple of his eye! Re-enter Puck Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Shall we their fond pagean see? Obe. Stand aside: the no se they make, Will cause Demetrius to awake. Puck. Then will two at once, woo one; That must needs be sport alone; And those things do best please me, That befal preposterously. Enter Lysander and Helena. [Exit. Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, (1) Love-sick. (3) Heartily. (4) Degree. (5) Pay dearly for it. A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know: And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia's love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do to my death. Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart with her, but as guestwise, sojourn'd; Helen, it is not so. Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. Enter Hermia. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go? Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him 'bide, Fair Helena; who more engilds the night The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it: Her. I am amaz'd at your passionate words: Her. I understand not what you mean by this. Hel. Ay, do perséver, counterfeit sad looks, Make mows upon me when I turn my back; Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up; This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument. But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault; Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy." Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse; My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena ! Hel. O excellent! Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so. Dem. If she cannot entreat, can compel. Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat; Thy threats have no more strength, than her weak Lys. Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence! Her. Do you not jest? Why, then you left me,-0, the gods forbid !— In earnest, shall I say? Lys. Ay, by my life; Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom!" You thief of love! what, have you come by night And stol'n my love's heart from him? Hel. Fine, i'faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answe s from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you! Her. Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the I am a right maid r my cowardice; Her. I told him of your stealth unto this wood: Her. Why, get you gone: Who is't that hinders you? Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind. Her. What, with Lysander? Hel. With Demetrius. Lys. Be not afraid she shall not harm thee, Helena. Dem. No, sir; she shall not, though you take her part. Hel. O, when she's angry, she is keen and She was a vixen, when she went to school; Hel. Yes, 'sooth; and so do you. Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. Dem. I would, I had your bond; for, I perceive, A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word. Her. Little again? nothing but low and little? Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so. Her. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate? Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? I am as fair now, as I was erewhile. Why will you suffer her to flout me thus ? Get you gone, you dwarf; Dem. Since night, you lov'd me; yet, since night you Take not her part: for if thou dost intend left me: Never so little show of love to her, (5) Anciently knot-grass was believed to prevent the growth of children. (6) Pretend. Thou shalt aby it. Dem. Follow? nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by Her. You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you: [Exit. Hel. Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Here comes one. Enter Lysander. Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now. Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where Lys. I will be with thee straight. To plainer ground. Dem. Follow me then [Exit Lys. as following the voice. Enter Demetrius. Lysander! speak again. Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight: That draws a sword on thee. As this their jangling I esteem a sport. Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog, as black as Acheron: Dem. Re-enter Lysander. Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on; Re-enter Puck and Demetrius. Puck. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot, With league, whose date till death shall never end. Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place; Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy; haste; For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, there, Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all, [Exit Oberon. Puck. Up and down, up and down; I will lead them up and down: (1) Happen. (2) Medicinal efficacy. (3) Go. And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face. To your eye,, Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye. Thou tak'st In the sight Of thy former lady's eye: And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, The man shall have his mare again, and all shall ACT IV. sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For meeting her of late, behind the wood, SCENE I.-The same. Enter Titania and Bot-This hateful imperfection of her eyes. Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, Peas. Ready. Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.-Where's monsieur Cobweb? Cob. Ready. And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp [Touching her eyes with an herb. Bot. Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hip-Now, ped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break] not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey bag, signior.-Where's monsieur Mustardseed? Must. Ready. Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Must. What's your will? Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, sweet love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: us have the tongs and the bones. my let Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great] desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful, or two, of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come! upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. (2) Fist. (1) Stroke. Tita. How came these things to pass? Obe. Sound, music. [Still music.] Come, my Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark; Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad, Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train. |