Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. [Exeunt Dem. and Hel. Ob. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.Re-enter Puck. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. Puck. Ay, there it is. Ob. Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove: With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes; 1 Fai. You spotted snakes, with double tongue, Chorus. Philomel, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby: So, good night, with lullaby. 2 Fai. Weaving spiders, come not here; [Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps. Ob. What thou seest, when thou dost wake, [Squeezes the flower on Titania's eye-lids. Do it for thy true love take; Wake, when some vile thing is near. [Exit. Enter Lysander and Hermia. Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And to speak troth, I have forgot our way; And tarry for the comfort of the day. Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Her. Lysander riddles very prettily :- Enter Puck. For I must now to Oberon. [Exit. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. [Exit. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chace! 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: For beasts, that meet me, run away for fear: Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art, though? Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? 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, Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, 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, [Exit. Lys. She sees not Hermia:-Hermia, sleep thou And never may'st thou come Lysander near; Are hated most of those they did deceive; So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy, Of all be hated; but the most of me! thy best, ACT III. 179 SCENE I.-The same. The Queen of Fairies lying asleep. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. ARE we all met? Bottom. 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 you that? Snout. By'rlakin, a parlous fear. 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 sword; 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. Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? 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 [Exit. Play? To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! [Exit. Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac ; 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 casement. 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. Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom? Bot. Some man or other must présent wall: and let him have some plaster, or some lome, or some roughcast, about him, to signify wall or let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper. Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake; and so every one ac cording to his cue. Enter Puck behind. Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swagger ing here, So near the cradle of the fairy queen? Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth. Pyr. Odours savours sweet: So doth 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 Pyr. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! [Aside. Exit. This. Must I speak now? Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovley 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, eues 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! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! help! [Exeunt Clowns. Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through The throstle with his note so true, Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? [Waking. Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, Whose note full many a man doth mark, And dares not answer nay 5 for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird: who would give a bird the lie, though he cry, cuckoo never so ? Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again: 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 they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, 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, erop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, 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! 2 Fai. 3 Fai. 4 Fai. Hail! Hail! Hail! Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I beseechy your worship's 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? Peas. Peas-blossom. 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. Mus. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your pa tience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-berf 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 bower. 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. [Exe. SCENE II.-Another Part of the Wood. Enter Oberon. Enter Puck. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, And forth my mimie comes: When they him spy, And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: I led them on in this distracted fear, Puck. I took him sleeping,-that is finish'd too,- Her brother's noon-tide with the antipodes. Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood: I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore? Her. A privilege, never to see me more.― And from thy hated presence part I so: See me no more, whether he be dead, or no. [Exit. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein : Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. So sorrow's heavinesss doth heavier grow If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down. Some true-love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true. Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Ob. About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find : All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Puck. I go, I go; look, how I go; Re-enter Puck. Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Ob. Stand aside: the noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake. [Exil. 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. Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Lys. I had no judgement, when to her I swore. To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Lys. 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 Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee know, Her. You speak not as you think; it cannot be. Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd, All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: Her. I am amazed at your passionate words: Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, Her. I understand not what you mean by this. Lys. Stay gentle Helena; hear my excuse; |