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Such separation, as, may well be said,
Lys. Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
[They sleep. Enter Puck. Puck. Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none,
[Exit. Enter Demetrius and Helena, running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Deme
Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me
thus. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.
[Erit Demetrius. 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: If so, my eyes are oftner 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.
[IVaking. ransparent Helena! Nature here shows art, That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. here is Demetrius? O, how fit a word that vile name, to perish on my sword!
Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: What though he love your
love your Hermia? Lord, what though? et Hermia still loves you: then be content.
Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent he tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena I love:
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: Me thought, 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 loves; I swoon almost with fear. No?—then I well perceive you are not nigh: Either death, or you, I'll find immediately. [Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
TIIE 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,-
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 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.