+ + + NOw faire {Hippolita}, our nuptiall hower Draws on apase: fower happy daies bring in An other Moone: but oh, me thinks, how slow This old Moone wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a Stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a yong mans reuenewe. Fower daies will quickly steepe themselues in night: Fower nights will quickly dreame away the time: And then the Moone, like to a siluer bowe, Now bent in heauen, shall beholde the night Of our solemnities. Goe {Philostrate}, Stirre vp the {Athenian} youth to merriments, Awake the peart and nimble spirit of mirth, Turne melancholy foorth to funerals: The pale companion is not for our pomp. {Hyppolita}, I woo'd thee with my sword, And wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries: But I will wed thee in another key, With pompe, with triumph, and with reueling. Helena, {and} Demetrius.> Happy be {Theseus}, our renowned duke. Thankes good {Egeus}. Whats the newes with thee? Full of vexation, come I, with complaint

+ Against my childe, my daughter {Hermia.} {Stand forth Demetrius.} My noble Lord, This man hath my consent to marry her. {Stand forth Lisander.} And my gratious Duke, This man hath bewitcht the bosome of my childe. Thou, thou {Lysander}, thou hast giuen her rimes, And interchang'd loue tokens with my childe: Thou hast, by moone-#light, at her windowe sung, With faining voice, verses of faining loue, And stolne the impression of her phantasie: With bracelets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceites, Knackes, trifles, nosegaies, sweete meates (messengers Of strong preuailement in vnhardened youth) With cunning hast thou filcht my daughters heart, Turnd her obedience (which is due to mee) To stubborne harshnesse. And, my gratious Duke, Be it so, she will not here, before your Grace, Consent to marry with {Demetrius}, I beg the auncient priuiledge of {Athens}: As she is mine, I may dispose of her: Which shall be, either to this gentleman, Or to her death; according to our lawe, Immediatly prouided, in that case. What say you, {Hermia}? Be aduis'd, faire maid. To you, your father should be as a God: One that compos'd your beauties: yea and one, To whome you are but as a forme in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power, To leaue the figure, or disfigure it: {Demetrius} is a worthy gentleman. So is {Lisander}.In himselfe he is: But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voice, The other must be held the worthier.

+ I would my father lookt but with my eyes. Rather your eyes must, with his iudgement, looke, I doe intreat your grace, to pardon mee. I know not by what power, I am made bould; Nor how it may concerne my modesty, In such a presence, here to plead my thoughts: But I beseech your Grace, that I may knowe The worst that may befall mee in this case, If I refuse to wed {Demetrius.} Either to dy the death, or to abiure, For euer, the society of men. Therefore, faire {Hermia}, question your desires, Knowe of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether (if you yeelde not to your fathers choyce) You can endure the liuery of a Nunne, For aye to be in shady cloyster, mew'd To liue a barraine sister all your life, Chaunting faint hymnes, to the colde fruitlesse Moone. Thrise blessed they, that master so there bloode, To vndergoe such maiden pilgrimage: But earthlyer happy is the rose distild, Then that, which, withering on the virgin thorne, Growes, liues, and dies, in single blessednesse. So will I growe, so liue, so die my Lord, Ere I will yield my virgin Patent, vp Vnto his Lordshippe, whose vnwished yoake My soule consents not to giue souerainty. Take time to pawse, and by the next newe moone, The sealing day, betwixt my loue and mee, For euerlasting bond of fellowshippe, Vpon that day either prepare to dye, For disobedience to your fathers #will, Or else to wed {Demetrius}, as he would, Or on {Dianaes} altar to protest, For aye, austeritie and single life.

+ Relent, sweete {Hermia}, and, {Lysander}, yeeld Thy crazed title to my certaine right. You haue her fathers loue, {Demetrius}: Let me haue {Hermias}: doe you marry him. Scornefull {Lysander}, true, he hath my loue: And what is mine, my loue shall render him. And she is mine, and all my right of her I doe estate vnto {Demetrius}. I am my Lord, as well deriu'd as hee, As well possest: my loue is more than his: My fortunes euery way as fairely rankt (If not with vantage) as {Demetrius}: And (which is more then all these boastes can be) I am belou'd of beautious {Hermia.} Why should not I then prosecute my right? {Demetrius}, Ile auouch it to his heade, Made loue to {Nedars} daughter, {Helena}, And won her soule: and she (sweete Ladie) dotes, Deuoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry, Vpon this spotted and inconstant man. I must confesse, that I haue heard so much; And, with {Demetrius}, thought to haue spoke thereof: But, being ouer full of selfe affaires, My minde did loose it. But {Demetrius} come, And come {Egeus}, you shall goe with mee: I haue some priuate schooling for you both. For you, faire {Hermia}, looke you arme your selfe, To fit your fancies, to your fathers #will; Or else, the Law of {Athens} yeelds you vp (Which by no meanes we may extenuate) To death, or to a vowe of single life. Come my {Hyppolita}: what cheare my loue? {Demetrius} and {Egeus} goe along: I must employ you in some businesse, Against our nuptiall, and conferre with you

+ Of some thing, nerely that concernes your selues. With duety and desire, we follow you. How now my loue? Why is your cheeke so pale? How chance the roses there doe fade so fast? Belike, for want of raine: which I could well Beteeme them, from the tempest of my eyes. Eigh me: for aught that I could euer reade, Could euer here by tale or history, The course of true loue neuer did runne smoothe: But either it was different in bloud; O crosse! too high to be inthrald to loue. Or else misgraffed, in respect of yeares; O spight! too olde to be ingag'd to young. Or else, it stoode vpon the choyce of friends; O #hell, to choose loue by anothers eyes! Or, if there were a sympathy in choyce, Warre, death or sicknesse, did lay siege to it; Making it momentany, as a sound; Swift, as a shadowe; short, as any dreame; Briefe, as the lightning in the collied night, That (in a spleene) vnfolds both heauen and earth; And, ere a man hath power to say, beholde, The iawes of darkenesse do deuoure it vp: So quicke bright things come to confusion. If then true louers haue bin euer crost, It stands as an edict, in destiny: Then let vs teach our triall patience: Because it is a customary crosse, As dewe to loue, as thoughts, and dreames, and sighes, Wishes, and teares; poore Fancies followers. A good perswasion: therefore heare mee, {Hermia}: I haue a widowe aunt, a dowager, Of great reuenew, and she hath no childe: From {Athens} is her house remote, seauen leagues: And she respectes mee, as her only sonne:

+ There, gentle {Hermia}, may I marry thee: And to that place, the sharpe {Athenian} law Can not pursue vs. If thou louest mee, then Steale forth thy fathers house, to morrow night: And in the wood, a league without the towne (Where I did meete thee once with {Helena} To do obseruance to a morne of #May) There will I stay for thee. My good {Lysander}, I sweare to thee, by {Cupids} strongest bowe, By his best arrowe, with the golden heade, By the simplicitie of {Venus} doues, By that which knitteth soules, and prospers loues, And by that fire, which burnd the {Carthage} queene, When the false {Troian} vnder saile was seene, By all the vowes that euer men haue broke, (In number more then euer women spoke) In that same place thou hast appointed mee, To morrow truely will I meete with thee. Keepe promise loue: looke, here comes {Helena.} God speede faire {Helena}: whither away? Call you mee faire? That faire againe vnsay. {Demetrius} loues your faire: o happy faire! Your eyes are loadstarres, and your tongues sweete aire More tunable then larke, to sheepeheards eare, When wheat is greene, when hauthorne buddes appeare. Sicknesse is catching: O, were fauour so, Your words I catch, faire {Hermia}, ere I goe, My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your eye, My tongue should catch your tongues sweete melody. Were the world mine, {Demetrius} being bated, The rest ile giue to be to you translated. O, teach mee how you looke, and with what #Art, You sway the motion of {Demetrius} heart.

+ I frowne vpon him; yet hee loues mee still. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skil. I giue him curses; yet he giues mee loue. O that my prayers could such affection mooue. The more I hate, the more he followes mee. The more I loue, the more he hateth mee. His folly, {Helena}, is no fault of mine. None but your beauty; would that fault were mine. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face: {Lysander} and my selfe will fly this place. Before the time I did {Lisander} see, Seem'd {Athens} as a Paradise to mee. O then, what graces in my loue dooe dwell, That hee hath turnd a heauen vnto a #hell! {Helen}, to you our mindes wee will vnfould: To morrow night, when {Phoebe} doth beholde Her siluer visage, in the watry glasse, Decking, with liquid pearle, the bladed grasse (A time, that louers flights doth still conceale) Through {Athens} gates, haue wee deuis'd to steale. And in the wood, where often you and I, Vpon faint Primrose beddes, were wont to lye, Emptying our bosomes, of their counsell sweld, There my {Lysander}, and my selfe shall meete, And thence, from {Athens}, turne away our eyes, To seeke new friends and strange companions. Farewell, sweete playfellow: pray thou for vs: And good lucke graunt thee thy {Demetrius.} Keepe word {Lysander}: we must starue our sight, From louers foode, till morrow deepe midnight. I will my {Hermia}. {Helena} adieu: As you on him, {Demetrius} dote on you. How happie some, ore othersome, can be! Through {Athens}, I am thought as faire as shee.

+ But what of that? {Demetrius} thinkes not so: He will not knowe, what all, but hee doe know. And as hee erres, doting on {Hermias} eyes: So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantitie, Loue can transpose to forme and dignitie. Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde: And therefore is wingd {Cupid} painted blinde. Nor hath loues minde of any iudgement taste: Wings, and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haste. And therefore is loue said to bee a childe: Because, in choyce, he is so oft beguil'd. As waggish boyes, in game, themselues forsweare: So, the boy, Loue, is periur'd euery where. For, ere {Demetrius} lookt on {Hermias} eyen, Hee hayld downe othes, that he was onely mine. And when this haile some heate, from {Hermia}, felt, So he dissolued, and showrs of oathes did melt. I will goe tell him of faire {Hermias} flight: Then, to the wodde, will he, to morrow night, Pursue her: and for this intelligence, If I haue thankes, it is a deare expense: But herein meane I to enrich my paine, To haue his sight thither, and back againe. + Is all our company heere? You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrippe. Here is the scrowle of euery mans name, which is thought fit, through al {Athens}, to play in our Enterlude, be%fore the Duke, & the Dutches, on his wedding day at night. First good {Peeter Quince}, say what the Play treats on. then read the names of the Actors: & so grow to a point.

+ Mary, our Play is the most lamentable comedy, and most cruell death of {Pyramus} and {Thisby.} A very good peece of worke, I assure you, & a mer%ry. Now good {Peeter Quince}, call forth your Actors, by the scrowle. Masters, spreade your selues. Answere, as I call you. {Nick Bottom}, the Weauer? Readie: Name what part I am for, and proceede. You, {Nick Bottom} are set downe for {Pyramus.} What is {Pyramus}? A louer, or a tyrant? A louer that kils himselfe, most gallant, for loue. That will aske some teares in the true performing of it. If I doe it, let the Audience looke to their eyes: I wil mooue stormes: I will condole, in some measure. To the rest yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I could play {Er%cles} rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to make all split the raging rocks: and shiuering shocks, shall breake the locks of prison gates, and {Phibbus} carre shall shine from farre, and make & marre the foolish Fates. This was loftie. Now, name the rest of the Players. This is {Ercles} vaine, a tyrants vaine: A louer is more condoling. {Francis Flute}, the Bellowes mender? Here {Peeter Quince.} {Flute}, you must take {Thisby}, on you. What is {Thisby}? A wandring knight? It is the Lady, that {Pyramus} must loue. + Nay faith: let not me play a woman$: I haue a beard com$|ming. Thats all one: you shall play it in a Maske: and you may speake as small as you will. #And I may hide my face, let me play {Thisby} #to: Ile + speake in a monstrous little voice; {Thisne}, {Thisne}, ah {Py%ramus}, my louer deare, thy {Thysby} deare, & Lady deare. No, no: you must play {Pyramus}: & {Flute}, you {Thysby.} + Well, proceede.{Robin Starueling}, the Tailer? Here {Peeter Quince.} {Robin Starueling}, you must play {Thysbyes} mother:

+ {Tom Snowte}, the Tinker? Here {Peter Quince}. You, {Pyramus} father; my selfe, {Thisbies} father; {Snugge}, the Ioyner, you the Lyons part: And I hope here is a Play fitted. Haue you the Lyons part written? Pray you, if it bee, giue it mee: for I am slowe of studie. You may doe it, {extempore}: for it is nothing but roaring. Let mee play the Lyon #to. I will roare, that I will doe any mans heart good to heare mee. I will roare, that I will make the Duke say; Let him roare againe: let him roare againe. And you should od it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchesse, and the Ladies, that they would shrike: and that were inough to hang vs all. That would hang vs, euery mothers sonne. I grant you, friends, if you should fright the Ladies out of their wits, they would haue no more discretion, but to hang vs: but I will aggrauate my voice so, that I wil roare you as gently, as any sucking doue: I will roare you, #and 'twere any Nightingale. You can play no part but {Piramus}: for {Piramus} is a sweete fac't man; a proper man as one shall see in a som%mers day; a most louely gentlemanlike man: therefore you must needes play {Piramus.} Well: I will vndertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Why? what you will. I wil discharge it, in either your straw colour beard, your Orange tawnie bearde, your purple in graine beard, or your french crowne colour beard, your perfit yellow. Some of your french crownes haue no haire at all; and then you will play bare fac't. But maisters here are your parts, and I am to intreat you, request you, and desire

+ you, to con them by to morrow night: and meete me in the palace wood, a mile without the towne, by Moone%light; there will wee rehearse: for if wee meete in the city, wee shal be dogd with company, and our deuises known. In the meane time, I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you faile me not. Wee will meete, & there we may rehearse most ob%scenely, and coragiously. Take paines, bee perfit: adieu. At the Dukes oke wee meete. Enough: holde, or cut bowstrings. + How now spirit, whither wander you? Ouer hill, ouer dale, thorough bush, thorough brier, Ouer parke, ouer pale, thorough flood, thorough fire: I do wander euery where; swifter than the Moons sphere: And I serue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs vpon the |greene. The cowslippes tall her Pensioners bee, In their gold coats, spottes you see: Those be Rubies, Fairie fauours: In those freckles, liue their sauours. I must goe seeke some dew droppes here, And hang a pearle in euery couslippes eare. Farewell thou Lobbe of spirits: Ile be gon. Our Queene, and all her Elues come here anon. The king doth keepe his Reuels here to night. Take heede the Queene come not within his sight. For {Oberon} is passing fell and wrath: Because that she, as her attendant, hath A louely boy stollen, from an Indian king: She neuer had so sweete a changeling. And iealous {Oberon} would haue the childe, Knight of his traine, to trace the forrests wilde. But shee, perforce, withhoulds the loued boy, Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her ioy.

+ And now, they neuer meete in groue, or greene, By fountaine cleare, or spangled starlight sheene, But they doe square, that all their Elues, for feare, Creepe into acorne cups, and hide them there. Either I mistake your shape, and making, quite, Or els you are that shrewde and knauish sprite, Call'd {Robin goodfellow.} Are not you hee, That frights the maidens of the Villageree, Skim milke, and sometimes labour in the querne, And bootlesse make the breathlesse huswife cherne, And sometime make the drinke to beare no barme, Misselead nightwanderers, laughing at their harme? Those, that Hobgoblin call you, and sweete Puck, You doe their worke, and they shall haue good luck. Are not you hee? + Thou speakest aright; I am that merry wanderer of |the night. I ieast to {Oberon}, and make him smile, When I a fat and beane-#fed horse beguile; Neyghing, in likenesse of a silly fole, And sometime lurke I in a gossippes bole, In very likenesse of a rosted crabbe, And when she drinkes, against her lips I bob, And on her withered dewlop, poure the ale. The wisest Aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime, for three foote stoole, mistaketh mee: Then slippe I from her bumme, downe topples she, And tailour cryes, and falles into a coffe; And then the whole Quire hould their hippes, and loffe, And waxen in their myrth, and neeze, and sweare A merrier hower was neuer wasted there. But roome Faery: here comes {Oberon.} And here, my mistresse. Would that he were gon. #Ill met by moonelight, proud {Tytania.}

+ What, Iealous {Oberon}? Fairy skippe hence. I haue forsworne his bedde, and company. Tarry, rash wanton. Am not I thy Lord? Then I must be thy Lady: but I know When thou hast stollen away from Fairy land, And in the shape of {Corin}, sat all day, Playing on pipes of corne, and versing loue, To amorous {Phillida}. Why art thou here Come from the farthest steppe of {India}? But that, forsooth, the bounsing {Amason}, Your buskind mistresse, and your warriour loue, To {Theseus} must be wedded; and you come, To giue their bedde, ioy and prosperitie. How canst thou thus, for shame, {Tytania}, Glaunce at my credit, with {Hippolita}? Knowing, I know thy loue to {Theseus.} Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering night, From {Perigenia}, whom he rauished? And make him, with faire Eagles, breake his faith With {Ariadne}, and {Antiopa}? These are the forgeries of iealousie: And neuer, since the middle Sommers spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forrest, or meade, By paued fountaine, or by rushie brooke, Or in the beached margent of the Sea, To daunce our ringlets to the whistling winde, But with thy brawles thou hast disturbd our sport. Therefore the windes, pyping to vs in vaine, As in reuenge, haue suckt vp, from the Sea, Contagious fogges: which, falling in the land, Hath euery pelting riuer made so proude, That they haue ouerborne their Continents. The Oxe hath therefore stretcht his yoake in vaine, The Ploughman lost his sweat, and the greene corne Hath rotted, ere his youth attainde a bearde:

+ The fold stands empty, in the drowned field, And crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke. The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mudde: And the queint Mazes, in the wanton greene, For lacke of tread, are vndistinguishable. The humane mortals want their winter heere. No night is now with hymne or carroll blest. Therefore the Moone (the gouernesse of floods) Pale in her anger, washes all the aire; That Rheumaticke diseases doe abound. And, thorough this distemperature, wee see The seasons alter: hoary headed frosts Fall in the fresh lappe of the Crymson rose, And on old {Hyems} chinne and Icy crowne, An odorous Chaplet of sweete Sommer buddes Is, as in mockery, set. The Spring, the Sommer, The childing Autumne, angry Winter change Their wonted Liueries: and the mazed worlde, By their increase, now knowes not which is which: And this same progeny of euils, Comes from our debate, from our dissention: We are their Parents and originall. Doe you amend it then: it lyes in you. Why should {Titania} crosse her {Oberon}? I doe but begge a little Changeling boy, To be my Henchman. Set your heart at rest. The Faiery Land buies not the childe of mee, His mother was a Votresse of my order: And in the spiced {Indian} ayer, by night, Full often hath she gossipt, by my side, And sat, with me on {Neptunes} yellow sands Marking th'#embarked traders on the flood: When we haue laught to see the sailes conceaue, And grow bigge bellied, with the wanton winde:

+ Which she, with prettie, and with swimming gate, Following (her wombe then rich with my young squire) Would imitate, and saile vpon the land, To fetch me trifles, and returne againe, As from a voyage, rich with marchandise. But she, being mortall, of that boy did dye, And, for her sake, doe I reare vp her boy: And, for her sake, I will not part with him. How long, within this wood, entend you stay? Perchaunce, till after {Theseus} wedding day. If you will patiently daunce in our Round, And see our Moonelight Reuelles, goe with vs: If not, shunne me, and I will spare your haunts. Giue mee that boy, and I will goe with thee. Not for thy Fairy kingdome. Fairies away. We shall chide downeright, if I longer stay. Well: goe thy way. Thou shalt not from this groue, Till I torment thee, for this iniury. My gentle {Pucke} come hither: thou remembrest, Since once I sat vpon a promontory, And heard a Mearemaide, on a Dolphins backe, Vttering such dulcet and hermonious breath, That the rude sea grewe ciuill at her song, And certaine starres shot madly from their Spheares, To heare the Sea-#maids musicke. I remember. That very time, I saw (but thou could'st not) Flying betweene the colde Moone and the earth, {Cupid}, all arm'd: a certaine aime he tooke At a faire Vestall, throned by west, And loos'd his loue-#shaft smartly, from his bowe, As it should pearce a hundred thousand hearts: But, I might see young {Cupids} fiery shaft Quencht in the chast beames of the watry Moone: And the imperiall Votresse passed on,

+ In maiden meditation, fancy free. Yet markt I, where the bolt of {Cupid} fell. It fell vpon a little westerne flower; Before, milke white; now purple, with loues wound, And maidens call it, Loue in idlenesse. Fetch mee that flowre: the herbe I shewed thee once. The iewce of it, on sleeping eyeliddes laide, Will make or man or woman madly dote, Vpon the next liue creature that it sees. Fetch mee this herbe, and be thou here againe Ere the {Leuiathan} can swimme a league. + Ile put a girdle, roun$d about the earth, in forty minutes. Hauing once this iuice, Ile watch {Titania}, when she is #a sleepe, And droppe the liquor of it, in her eyes: The next thing then she, waking, lookes vpon (Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull, On medling Monky, or on busie Ape) She shall pursue it, with the soule of Loue. And ere I take this charme, from #of her sight (As I can take it with another herbe) Ile make her render vp her Page, to mee. But, who comes here? I am inuisible, And I will ouerheare their conference. I loue thee not: therefore pursue me not, Where is {Lysander}, and faire {Hermia}? The one Ile stay: the other stayeth me. Thou toldst me, they were stolne vnto this wood: And here am I, and wodde, within this wood: Because I cannot meete my {Hermia}. Hence, get #the gone, and follow mee no more. You draw mee, you hard hearted Adamant: But yet you draw not Iron. For my heart Is true as steele. Leaue you your power to draw,

+ And I shall haue no power to follow you. Doe I entise you? Doe I speake you faire? Or rather doe I not in plainest truthe, Tell you I doe nor, not I cannot loue you? And euen, for that, do I loue you, the more: I am your Spaniell: and, {Demetrius}, The more you beat mee, I will fawne on you. Vse me but as your Spaniell: spurne me, strike mee, Neglect mee, loose me: onely giue me leaue (Vnworthie as I am) to follow you. What worser place can I begge, in your loue (And yet, a place of high respect with mee) Then to be vsed as you vse your dogge. Tempt not, too much, the hatred of my spirit. For I am sick, when I do looke on thee. And I am sick, when I looke not on you. You doe impeach your modestie too much, To leaue the citie, and commit your selfe, Into the hands of one that loues you not, To trust the opportunitie of night, And the #ill counsell of a desert place, With the rich worth of your virginitie. Your vertue is my priuiledge: For that It is not night, when I doe see your face. Therefore, I thinke, I am not in the night, Nor doth this wood lacke worlds of company. For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then, how can it be saide, I am alone, When all the world is here, to looke on mee? Ile runne from thee, and hide me in the brakes, And leaue thee to the mercy of wilde beastes. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Runne when you will: The story shall be chaung'd: {Apollo} flies and {Daphne} holds the chase: The Doue pursues the Griffon: the milde Hinde

+ Makes speede to catch the Tiger. Bootelesse speede, When cowardise pursues, and valour flies. I will not stay thy questions. Let me goe: Or if thou followe mee, do not beleeue, But I shall doe thee mischiefe, in the wood. #I, in the Temple, in the towne, the fielde, You doe me mischiefe. Fy {Demetrius.} Your wrongs doe set a scandall on my sex: We cannot fight for loue, as men may doe: We should be woo'd, and were not made to wooe. Ile follow thee and make a heauen of #hell, To dy vpon the hand I loue so well. Fare thee well Nymph. Ere he do leaue this groue, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seeke thy loue. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer. #I, there it is. I pray thee giue it mee. I know a banke where the wilde time blowes, Where Oxlips, and the nodding Violet growes, Quite ouercanopi'd with lushious woodbine, With sweete muske roses, and with Eglantine: There sleepes {Tytania}, sometime of the night, Luld in these flowers, with daunces and delight: And there the snake throwes her enammeld skinne, Weed wide enough to wrappe a Fairy in. And, with the iuyce of this, Ile streake her eyes, And make her full of hatefull phantasies. Take thou some of it, and seeke through this groue: A sweete {Athenian} Lady is in loue, With a disdainefull youth: annoint his eyes. But doe it, when the next thing he espies, May be the Ladie. Thou shalt know the man, By the {Athenian} garments he hath on. Effect it with some care; that he may prooue

+ More fond on her, then she vpon her loue: And looke thou meete me ere the first Cocke crowe. Feare not my Lord: your seruant shall do so. + Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song: Then, for the third part of a minute hence, Some to kill cankers in the musk rose buds, Some warre with Reremise, for their lethren wings, To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe backe The clamorous Owle, that nightly hootes and wonders At our queint spirits: Sing me now #a sleepe: Then to your offices, and let mee rest. You spotted Snakes, with double tongue, Thorny Hedgehogges be not seene, Newts and blinde wormes do no wrong, Come not neere our Fairy Queene. {Philomele}, with melody, Sing in our sweete Lullaby, Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby, Neuer harme, nor spell, nor charme, Come our louely lady nigh. So good night, with lullaby. Weauing Spiders come not heere: Hence you long legd Spinners, hence: Beetles blacke approach not neere: Worme nor snaile doe no offence. with melody, &c. Hence away: now all is well: One aloofe, stand Centinell. What thou seest, when thou doest wake, Doe it for thy true loue take: Loue and languish for his sake. Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,

+ Pard, or Boare with bristled haire, In thy eye that shall appeare, When thou wak'st, it is thy deare: Wake, when some vile thing is neere. Faire loue, you fainte, with wandring in the wood: And to speake troth I haue forgot our way. Weele rest vs {Hermia}, if you thinke it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Bet it so {Lysander}: finde you out a bedde: For I, vpon this banke, will rest my head. One turfe shall serue, as pillow, for vs both, One heart, one bedde, two bosomes, and one troth. Nay god {Lysander}: for my sake, my deere Ly further off, yet; doe not lye so neere. O take the sense, sweete, of my innocence. Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference, I meane that my heart vnto yours is knit; So that but one heart wee can make of it: Two bosomes interchained with an oath: So then two bosomes, and a single troth. Then, by your side, no bed-#roome me deny: For lying so, {Hermia}, I doe not lye. {Lysander} riddles very prettily. Now much beshrewe my manners, and my pride, If {Hermia} meant to say, {Lysander} lyed. But gentle friend, for loue and curtesie, Ly further off, in humane modesty: Such separation, as may well be said Becomes a vertuous batcheler, and a maide, So farre be distant, and good night sweete friend: Thy loue nere alter till thy sweete life end. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I, And then end life, when I end loyalty. Heere is my bed: sleepe giue thee all his rest.

+ With halfe that wish, the wishers eyes be prest. Through the forrest haue I gone: But {Athenian} found I none, On whose eyes I might approue This flowers force in stirring loue, Night and silence. Who is heere? Weedes of {Athens} he doth weare: This is hee (my master saide) Despised the {Athenian} maide: And here the maiden, sleeping sound, On the danke and dirty ground. Pretty sowle, she durst not lye, Neere this lack-#loue, this kil-#curtesie. Churle, vpon thy eyes I throwe All the power this charme doth owe: When thou wak'st, let loue forbidde Sleepe, his seat, on thy eye lidde. So awake, when I am gon: For I must now to {Oberon.} Stay; though thou kill mee, sweete {Demetrius.} I charge thee hence, and doe not haunt mee thus. O, wilt thou darkling leaue me? doe not so. Stay, on thy perill: I alone will goe. O, I am out of breath, in this fond chase, The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happie is {Hermia}, wheresoere she lies: For she hath blessed, and attractiue eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares. If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers. No, no: I am as vgly as a Beare: For beastes that meete mee, runne away, for feare. Therefore, no maruaile, though {Demetrius} Doe, as a monster, fly my presence, thus.

+ What wicked and dissembling glasse, of mine, Made me compare with {Hermias} sphery eyen! But, who is here? {Lysander}, on the ground? Dead, or #a sleepe? I see no blood, no wound. {Lysander}, if you liue, good sir awake. And runne through fire, I will for thy sweete sake. Transparent {Helena}, nature shewes arte, That through thy bosome, makes me see thy heart. Where is {Demetrius}? Oh how fit a word Is that vile name, to perish on my sworde! Do not say so, {Lysander}, say not so. What though he loue your {Hermia}? Lord, what though? Yet {Hermia} still loues you: then be content. Content with {Hermia}? No: I doe repent The tedious minutes, I with her haue spent. Not {Hermia}, but {Helena} I loue. Who will not change a Rauen for a doue? The #will of man is by his reason swai'd: And reason saies you are the worthier maide. Things growing are not ripe, vntill their season: So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason. And touching now, the point of humane skill, Reason becomes the Marshall to my #will, And leads mee to your eyes; where I orelooke Loues stories, written in loues richest booke. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne? When, at your hands, did I deserue this scorne? Ist not enough, ist not enough, young man, That I did neuer, no nor neuer can, Deserue a sweete looke from {Demetrius} eye, But you must flout my insufficiency? Good troth you doe mee wrong (good sooth you doe) In such disdainfull manner, mee to wooe. But, fare you well: perforce, I must confesse, I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.

+ O, that a Ladie, of one man refus'd, Should, of another, therefore be abus'd! She sees not {Hermia.} {Hermia}, sleepe thou there, And neuer maist thou come {Lysander} neere. For, as a surfet of the sweetest things The deepest loathing, to the stomacke bringes: Or, as the heresies, that men doe leaue, Are hated most of those they did deceiue: So thou, my surfet, and my heresie, Of all bee hated; but the most, of mee: And all my powers addresse your loue and #might, To honour {Helen}, and to be her knight. Helpe mee {Lysander}, helpe mee: do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent, from my brest. Ay mee, for pittie. What a dreame was here? {Lysander} looke, how I doe quake with feare. Me thought, a serpent eate my heart away, And you sate smiling at his cruell pray. {Lysander} what, remou'd? {Lysander}, Lord, What, out of hearing, gon? No sound, no word? Alacke where are you? Speake, #and if you heare: Speake, of all loues. I swoune almost with feare. No, then I well perceiue, you are not ny: Either death, or you, Ile finde immediately. + Are wee all met? Pat, pat: and heres a maruailes conuenient place, for our rehearsall. This greene plot shall be our stage, this hauthorne brake our tyring house, and wee will doe it in action, as wee will doe it before the Duke. {Peeter Quince}? What saiest thou, bully, {Bottom}? There are things in this Comedy, of {Pyramus} and {Thisby}, that will neuer please. First, {Pyramus} must draw a sworde, to kill himselfe; which the Ladies cannot abide.

+ How answere you that? Berlakin, a parlous feare. I beleeue, we must leaue the killing, out, when all is done. Not a whit: I haue a deuise to make all well. Write me a Prologue, and let the Prologue seeme to say; we wil do no harme, with our swords, and that {Pyramus} is not kild indeede: and for the more better assurance, tel them, that I {Pyramus} am not {Pyramus}, but {Bottom} the weauer: this will put them out of feare. Well: wee will haue such a Prologue, and it shall be written in eight and six. No: make it two more: let it be written in eight & eight. Will not the ladies be afeard of the Lyon? I feare it, I promise you. Masters, you ought to consider with your selfe, to bring in (God shielde vs) a Lyon among Ladies, is a most dreadfull thing. For there is not a more fearefull wilde soule then your Lyon liuing: & we ought to looke toote. Therfore, another Prologue must tel, he is not a Lion. Nay: you must name his name, and halfe his face must be seene through the Lions necke, and he himselfe must speake through, saying thus, or to the same defect; Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would wish you, or I would re%quest you, or I wold intreat you, not to feare, not to trem$ble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither as a Lyon, it were pittie of my life. No: I am no such thing: I am a man as other men are: & there indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainely he is {Snugge}, the Ioyner. Well: it shall be so: but there is two hard things; that is, to bring the Moone-#light into a chamber: for you know, {Pyramus} and {Thisby} meete by Moone-#light. Doth the Moone shine, that night, we play our Play?

+ A Calender, a Calender: looke in the Almanack: finde out Moone-#shine, finde out Moone-#shine. Yes: it doth shine that night. Why then, may you leaue a casement of the great chamber window (where we play) open; and the Moone may shine in at the casement. #I: or els, one must come in, with a bush of thorns, & a lan$tern, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present the person of Moone-#shine. Then, there is another thing; we must haue a wal in the great cham$ber: for {Pyramus} & {This%by} (saies the story) did talke through the chinke of a wall. You can neuer bring in a wal. What say you {Bottom}? Some man or other must present wall: and let him haue some plaster, or som lome, or some rough cast, about him, to signifie wall; or let him holde his fingers thus: and through that crany, shall {Pyramus} and {Thisby} whis%per. _ If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit downe e%uery mothers sonne, and reherse your parts. {Pyramus}, you beginne: when you haue spoken your speech, enter into that Brake, and so euery one according to his cue. What hempen homespunnes haue we swaggring here, So neere the Cradle of the Fairy Queene? What, a play toward? Ile be an Auditor, An Actor #to perhappes, If I see cause. Speake {Pyramus}: {Thysby} stand forth. {Thisby} the flowers of odious sauours sweete. Odours, odorous. Odours sauours sweete. So hath thy breath, my dearest {Thisby} deare. But harke, a voice: stay thou but heere #a while, And #by and by I will to thee appeare. A stranger {Pyramus}, then ere played heere. Must I speake now?

+ #I marry must you. For you must vnderstan$d, he goes but to see a noyse, that he heard, and is to come againe. Most radiant {Pyramus}, most lillie white of hewe, Of colour like the red rose, on triumphant bryer, Most brisky Iuuenall, and eeke most louely Iewe, As true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre, Ile meete thee {Pyramus}, at {Ninnies} toumbe. {Ninus} toumbe, man. Why? you must not speake That yet. That you answere to {Pyramus.} You speake Al your part at once, cues, and, all. {Pyramus}, enter: your cue is past: It is; neuer tire. O, as true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre. If I were faire, {Thysby}, I were onely thine. O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray ma%sters: fly masters: helpe. Ile follow you: Ile leade you about a Round, Through bogge, through bush, through brake, through |bryer: Sometime a horse Ile be, sometime a hound, A hogge, a headelesse Beare, sometime a fier, And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne, Like horse, hound, hogge, beare, fire, at euery turne. Why doe they runne away? This is a knauery of them to make mee afeard. O {Bottom}, thou art chaung'd. What do I see on thee? What Doe you see? You see an Asse head of your owne. do you? + Blesse thee {Bottom}, blesse thee. Thou art tran$lated. | I see their knauery. This is to make an asse of mee, to fright me, if they could: but I wil not stirre from this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and downe heere, and I will sing, that they shall heare I am not afraide. The Woosell cock, so blacke of hewe, With Orange tawny bill,

+ The Throstle, with his note so true, The Wren, with little quill. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed? The Fynch, the Sparrowe, and the Larke, The plainsong Cuckow gray: Whose note, full many a man doth marke, And dares not answere, nay. For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a birde? Who would giue a bird the ly, though hee cry Cuckow, neuer so? I pray thee, gentle mortall, sing againe. Myne eare is much enamoured of thy note: So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape, And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth mooue mee, On the first viewe to say, to sweare, I loue thee. Mee thinks mistresse, you should haue little reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and loue keepe little company together, now #a daies. The more the pitty, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay I can gleeke, vpon occasion. Thou art as wise, as thou art beautifull. Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I haue enough to serue mine owe turne. Out of this wood, doe not desire to goe: Thou shalt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit, of no common rate: The Sommer, still, doth tend vpon my state, And I doe loue thee: therefore goe with mee. Ile giue thee Fairies to attend on thee: And they shall fetch thee Iewels, from the deepe, And sing, while thou, on pressed flowers, dost sleepe: And I will purge thy mortall grossenesse so, That thou shalt, like an ayery spirit, goe. {Pease}-#{blossome, Cobweb, Moth}, and {Mustard}-#{seede}?

+ Readie: and I, and I, and I. Where shall we goe? Be kinde and curteous to this gentleman, Hop in his walkes, and gambole in his eyes, Feede him with Apricocks, and Dewberries, With purple Grapes, greene figges, and Mulberries, The hony bagges steale from the humble Bees, And for night tapers, croppe their waxen thighes, And light them at the fiery Glowe-#wormes eyes, To haue my loue to bedde, and to arise, And pluck the wings, from painted Butterflies, To fanne the Moone-#beames from his sleeping eyes, Nod to him Elues, and doe him curtesies. Haile mortall, haile. Haile. Haile. I cry your worships mercy, hartily: I beseech your worshippes name. {Cobwebbe.} I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good ma%ster {Cobweb}: if I cut my finger, I shall make bolde with you. Your name honest gentleman? {Pease-#blossome.} I pray you commend mee to mistresse {Squash}, your mother, and to master {Peascod}, your father. Good master {Pease-#blossome}, I shall desire you of more acquaintance, #to. Your name I beseech you sir? {Mustardseede.} Good master {Mustardseede}, I know your patience well. That same cowardly, gyantlike, Ox-#beefe hath de%uourd 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 {Mustardseede.} Come waite vpon him: leade him to my bower. The Moone, me thinkes, lookes with a watry eye: And when shee weepes, weepes euery little flower,

+ Lamenting some enforced chastitie. Ty vp my louers tongue, bring him silently. + I wonder if {Titania} be awak't; Then what it was, that next came in her eye, Which she must dote on, in extreamitie. Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit? What nightrule now about this haunted groue? My mistresse with a monster is in loue, Neere to her close and consecrated bower. While she was in her dull, and sleeping hower, A crew of patches, rude Mechanicals, That worke for bread, vpon {Athenian} stalles, Were met together to rehearse a play, Intended for great {Theseus} nuptiall day: The shallowest thickskinne, of that barraine sort, Who {Pyramus} presented, in their sport, Forsooke his Scene, and entred in a brake, When I did him at this aduantage take: An Asses nole I fixed on his head. Anon his {Thisbie} must be answered, And forth my Minnick comes. When they him spy; As wilde geese, that the creeping Fouler eye, Or russet pated choughes, many in sort (Rysing, and cawing, at the gunnes report) Seuer themselues, and madly sweepe the sky: So, at his sight, away his fellowes fly, And at our stampe, here ore and ore, one falles: He murther cryes, and helpe from {Athens} cals. Their sense, thus weake, lost with their feares, thus strong, Made senselesse things begin to doe them wrong. For, briers and thornes, at their apparell, snatch: Some sleeues, some hats; from yeelders, all things catch. I led them on, in this distracted feare, And left sweete {Pyramus} translated there:

+ When in that moment (so it came to passe) #{Tytania} wak't, and straight way lou'd an Asse. This falles out better, then I could deuise. But hast thou yet latcht the {Athenians} eyes, With the loue iuice, as I did bid thee doe? I tooke him sleeping (that is finisht #to) And the {Athenian} woman, by his side; That when he wak't, of force she must be ey'd. Stand close: this is the same {Athenian.} This is the woman: but not this the man. O, Why rebuke you him, that loues you so? Lay breath so bitter, on your bitter foe. Now I but chide: but I should vse thee worse. For thou (I feare) hast giuen me cause to curse. If thou hast slaine {Lysander}, in his sleepe; Being ore shooes in blood, plunge in the deepe, & kill mee |#to. The Sunne was not so true vnto the day, As hee to mee. Would hee haue stollen away, From sleeping {Hermia}? Ile beleeue, as soone, This whole earth may be bor'd, and that the Moone May through the Center creepe, and so displease Her brothers noonetide, with th'#{Antipodes.} It cannot be, but thou hast murdred him. So should a murtherer looke; so dead, so grimme. So should the murthered looke, and so should I, Pearst through the heart, with your sterne cruelty. Yet you, the murtherer, looke as bright, as cleere, As yonder {Venus}, in her glimmering spheare. Whats this to my {Lysander}? Where is hee? Ah good {Demetrius}, wilt thou giue him mee? I had rather giue his carcasse to my hounds. Out dog, out curre: thou driu'st me past the bounds Of maidens patience. Hast thou slaine him then? Henceforth be neuer numbred among men.

+ O, once tell true: tell true, euen for my sake: Durst thou haue lookt vpon him, being awake? And hast thou kild him, sleeping? O braue tutch! Could not a worme, an Adder do so much? An Adder did it: For with doubler tongue Then thyne (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung. You spende your passion, on a mispris'd mood: I am not guilty of {Lysanders} bloode: Nor is he deade, for ought that I can tell. I pray thee, tell mee then, that he is well. #And if I could, what should I get therefore? A priuiledge, neuer to see mee more: And from thy hated presence part I: see me no more; Whether he be dead or no. There is no following her in this fierce vaine. Heere therefore, for a while, I will remaine. So sorrowes heauinesse doth heauier growe. For debt that bankrout slippe doth sorrow owe: Which now in some slight measure it will pay; If for his tender here I make some stay. {Ly doune.} What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite, And laid the loue iuice on some true loues sight. Of thy misprision, must perforce ensue Some true loue turnd, and not a false turnd true. Then fate orerules, that one man holding troth, A million faile, confounding oath on oath. About the wood, goe swifter then the winde, And {Helena} of {Athens} looke thou finde. All fancy sicke she is and pale of cheere, With sighes of loue, that costs the fresh blood deare. By some illusion see thou bring her here: Ile charme his eyes, against she doe appeare. I goe, I goe, looke how I goe. Swifter then arrow, from the {Tartars} bowe. Flower of this purple dy,

+ Hit with {Cupids} archery, Sinke in apple #o' his eye, When his loue he doth espy, Let her shine as gloriously As the {Venus} of the sky. When thou wak'st, if she be by, Begge of her, for remedy. Captaine of our Fairy band, {Helena} is heere at hande, And the youth, mistooke by mee, Pleading for a louers fee. Shall wee their fond pageant see? Lord, what fooles these mortals bee! Stand aside. The noyse, they make, Will cause {Demetrius} to awake. Then will two, at once, wooe one: That must needes be sport alone. And those things do best please mee, That befall prepost'rously. Why should you think, that I should wooe in scorne? Scorne, and derision, neuer come in teares. Looke when I vow, I weepe: and vowes so borne, In their natiuitie all truth appeares. How can these things, in mee, seeme scorne to you? Bearing the badge of faith to prooue them true. You doe aduance your cunning, more, and more. When trueth killes truth, o diuelish holy fray! These vowes are {Hermias}. Will you giue her ore? Weigh oath, with oath, and you will nothing waigh. Your vowes to her, and mee (put in two scales) Will euen weigh; and both as light as tales. I had no iudgement, when to her I swore. Nor none, in my minde, now you giue her ore.

+ {Demetrius} loues her: and he loues not you. O {Helen}, goddesse, nymph, perfect diuine, To what, my loue, shall I compare thine eyne! Christall is muddy. O, how ripe, in showe, Thy lippes, those kissing cherries, tempting growe! That pure coniealed white, high {Taurus} snow, Fand with the Easterne winde, turnes to a crowe, When thou holdst vp thy hand. O, let me kisse This Princesse of pure white, this seale of blisse. O spight! O #hell! I see, you all are bent To set against mee, for your merriment. If you were ciuill, and knew curtesie, You would not doe mee thus much iniury. Can you not hate mee, as I know you doe, But you must ioyne, in soules, to mocke mee #to? If you were men, as men you are in showe, You would not vse a gentle Lady so; To vowe, and sweare, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure, you hate mee with your hearts. You both are Riuals, and loue {Hermia}: And now both Riualles, to mock {Helena.} A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, To coniure teares vp, in a poore maides eyes, With your derision None, of noble sort, Would so offend a virgine, and extort A poore soules patience, all to make you sport. You are vnkinde, {Demetrius}: be not so. For you loue {Hermia}: this you know I know. And heare, with all good #will, with all my heart, In {Hermias} loue I yeelde you vp my part: And yours of {Helena}, to mee bequeath: Whom I doe loue, and will do till my death. Neuer did mockers waste more idle breath. {Lysander}, keepe thy {Hermia}: I will none. If ere I lou'd her, all that loue is gone.

+ My heart to her, but as guestwise, soiournd: And now to {Helen}, is it home returnd, There to remaine. {Helen}, it is not so. Disparage not the faith, thou dost not know; Least to thy perill, thou aby it deare. Looke where thy loue comes: yonder is thy deare. Darke night, that from the eye, his function takes, The eare more quicke of apprehension makes. Wherein it doth impaire the seeing sense, It payes the hearing double recompence. Thou art not, by myne eye, {Lysander}, found: Mine eare, I thanke it, brought me to thy sound. But why, vnkindly, didst thou leaue mee so? Why should he stay, whom loue doth presse to go? What loue could presse {Lysander}, from my side? {Lysanders} loue (that would not let him bide) Faire {Helena}: who more engilds the night Then all yon fiery oes, and eyes of light. Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know, The hate I bare thee, made mee leaue thee so? You speake not as you thinke: It cannot bee. Lo: she is one of this confederacy. Now I perceiue, they haue conioynd all three, To fashion this false sport, in spight of mee. Iniurious {Hermia}, most vngratefull maide, Haue you conspir'd, haue you with these contriu'd To baite mee, with this foule derision? Is all the counsell that we two haue shar'd, The sisters vowes, the howers that we haue spent, When we haue chid the hastie footed time, For parting vs; O, is all forgot? All schooldaies friendshippe, childhood innocence? Wee, {Hermia}, like two artificiall gods,

+ Haue with our needles, created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voyces, and mindes Had bin incorporate. So wee grewe together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted; But yet an vnion in partition, Two louely berries moulded on one stemme: So with two seeming bodies, but one heart, Two of the first life coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one creast. And will you rent our auncient loue asunder, To ioyne with men, in scorning your poore friend? It is not friendly, tis not maidenly. Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it; Though I alone doe fele the iniury. I am amazed at your words: I scorne you not. It seemes that you scorne mee. Haue you not set {Lysander}, as in scorne, To follow mee, and praise my eyes and face? And made your other loue, {Demetrius} (Who euen but now did spurne mee with his foote) To call mee goddesse, nymph, diuine, and rare, Pretious celestiall? Wherefore speakes he this, To her he hates? And wherfore doth {Lysander} Deny your loue (so rich within his soule) And tender mee (forsooth) affection, But by your setting on, by your consent? What, though I be not so in grace as you, So hung vpon with loue, so fortunate? (But miserable most, to loue vnlou'd) This you should pittie, rather then despise. I vnderstand not, what you meane by this. I doe. Perseuer, counterfait sad lookes: Make mouthes vpon mee, when I turne my back:

+ Winke each at other, holde the sweete ieast vp. This sport well carried, shall bee chronicled. If you haue any pitty, grace, or manners, You would not make mee such an argument. But fare ye well: tis partly my owne fault: Which death, or absence soone shall remedy. Stay, gentle {Helena}: heare my excuse, My loue, my life, my soule, faire {Helena.} O excellent! Sweete, doe not scorne her so. If she cannot entreat, I can compell. Thou canst compell no more, then she intreat. Thy threats haue no more strength then her weake praise. {Helen}, I loue thee, by my life I doe: I sweare by that which I will loose for thee; To prooue him false, that saies I loue thee not. I say, I loue thee more then he can do. If thou say so, withdrawe, and prooue it #to. Quick come. {Lysander}, whereto tends all this? Away, you {Ethiop.} No, no: heele Seeme to breake loose: take on as you would follow; But yet come not. You are a tame man, go. Hang #of thou cat, thou bur: vile thing let loose; Or I will shake thee from mee, like a serpent. Why are you growne so rude? What change is this, Sweete loue? Thy loue? Out tawny {Tartar}, out: Out loathed medcine: o hated potion hence.. Doe you not ieast? Yes sooth: and so doe you. {Demetrius}, I will keepe my word, with thee. I would I had your bond. For I perceiue, A weake bond holds you. Ile not trust your word.

+ What? should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so. What? Can you do me greater harme, then hate? Hate mee, wherefore? O me, what newes, my loue? Am not I {Hermia}? Are not you {Lysander}? I am as faire now, as I was ere while. Since night, you lou'd mee; yet since night, you left mee. Why then, you left mee (o the gods forbid) In earnest, shall I say? #I, by my life: And neuer did desire to see thee more. Thefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt: Be certaine: nothing truer: tis no ieast, That I doe hate thee, and loue {Helena.} O mee, you iuggler, you canker blossome, You theefe of loue: what, haue you come by night, And stolne my loues heart, from him? Fine, Ifaith. Haue you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulnesse? What, will you teare Impatient answeres, from my gentle tongue? Fy, fy, you counterfait, you puppet, you. Puppet? Why so? #I, that way goes the game. Now I perceiue that she hath made compare, Betweene our statures, she hath vrg'd her height, And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height (forsooth) she hath preuaild with him. And are you growne so high in his esteeme, Because I am so dwarfish and so lowe? How lowe am I, thou painted May-#pole? Speake: How lowe am I? I am not yet so lowe, But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes. I pray you, though you mocke me, gentleman, Let her not hurt me. I was neuer curst: I haue no gift at all in shrewishnesse:

+ I am a right maid, for my cowardize: Let her not strike mee. You perhaps, may thinke, Because she is something lower then my selfe, That I can match her. Lower? harke againe. Good {Hermia}, do not be so bitter with mee, I euermore did loue you {Hermia}, Did euer keepe your counsels, neuer wrongd you; Saue that in loue, vnto {Demetrius}, I tould him of your stealth vnto this wood. He followed you: for loue, I followed him. But he hath chid me hence, and threatned mee To strike mee, spurne mee; nay to kill mee #to. And now, so you will let me quiet goe, To {Athens} will I beare my folly backe, And follow you no further. Let me goe. You see how simple, and how fond I am. Why? get you gon. Who ist that hinders you? A foolish heart, that I leaue here behind. What, with {Lysander}? With {Demetrius.} Be not afraid: she shall not harme thee {Helena.} No sir: she shall not, though you take her part. O, when she is angry, she is keene and shrewd. She was a vixen, when she went to schoole: And though she be but little, she is fierce. Little againe? Nothing but low and little? Why will you suffer her to floute me thus? Let me come to her. Get you gon, you dwarfe; You {minimus}, of hindring knot grasse, made; You bead, you acorne You are too officious, In her behalfe, that scornes your seruices. Let her alone: speake not of {Helena},

+ Take not her part. For if thou dost intend Neuer so little shewe of loue to her, Thou shalt aby it. Now she holdes me not: Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in {Helena.} Follow? Nay: Ile go with thee, cheeke by iowle. You, mistresse, all this coyle is long of you. Nay: goe not backe. I will not trust you, I, Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray: My legges are longer though, to runne away. I am amaz'd, and know not what to say. This is thy negligence: still thou mistak'st, Or else commitst thy knaueries wilfully. Beleeue mee, king of shadowes, I mistooke. Did not you tell mee, I should know the man, By the {Athenian} garments, he had on? And, so farre blamelesse prooues my enterprise, That I haue nointed an {Athenians} eyes: And so farre am I glad, it so did sort, As this their iangling I esteeme a sport. Thou seest, these louers seeke a place to fight: Hy therefore {Robin}, ouercast the night, The starry welkin couer thou anon, With drooping fogge as blacke as {Acheron}, And lead these teasty Riuals so astray, As one come not within anothers way. Like to {Lysander}, sometime frame thy tongue. Then stirre {Demetrius} vp, with bitter wrong: And sometime raile thou like {Demetrius}: And from each other, looke thou lead them thus; Till ore their browes, death-#counterfaiting, sleepe, With leaden legs, and Batty wings doth creepe:

+ Then crush this hearbe into {Lysanders} eye; Whose liquor hath this vertuous property, To take from thence all errour, with his #might, And make his eyebals roule with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seeme a dreame, and fruitelesse vision. And backe to {Athens} shall the louers wend, With league, whose date, till death shall neuer end. Whiles I, in this affaire, doe thee imploy, Ile to my Queene and beg her {Indian} boy: And then I will her charmed eye release From monsters viewe, and all things shall be peace. My Faiery Lord, this must be done with haste. For nights swift Dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines {Auroras} harbinger: At whose approach, Ghosts, wandring here and there, Troope home to Churchyards: damned spirits all, That in crosse waies and floods haue buriall, Already to their wormy beds are gone: For feare least day should looke their shames vpon, They wilfully themselues exile from light, And must for aye consort with black browed night. But we are spirits of another sort. I, with the mornings loue, haue oft made sport, And like a forrester, the groues may tread Euen till the Easterne gate all fiery red, Opening on {Neptune}, with faire blessed beames, Turnes, into yellow golde, his salt greene streames. But notwithstanding, haste, make no delay: We may effect this businesse, yet ere day. Vp & down, vp & down, I will lead them vp & down: I am feard in field & town. {Goblin}, lead them vp & downe. Here comes one. Where art thou, proud {Demetrius}? Speak thou now, Here villaine, drawne & ready. Where art thou?

+ I will be with thee straight. Follow me then to plainer ground. {Lysander}, speake againe. Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speake in some bush. Where doest thou hide thy head? Thou coward art thou bragging, to the starres, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for warres, And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou childe, Ile whippe thee with a rodde. He is defil'd, That drawes a sword on thee. Yea, art thou there? Follow my voice: weele try no manhood here. {Exeun$t.} He goes before me, and still dares me on: When I come where he calles, then he is gon. The villaine is much lighter heel'd then I; I followed fast: but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in darke vneauen way, And here will rest me. Come thou gentle day. For if but once, thou shewe me thy gray light, Ile finde {Demetrius}, and reuenge this spight. Ho, ho, ho: Coward, why comst thou not? Abide me, if thou dar'st. For well I wot, Thou runst before mee, shifting euery place, And dar'st not stand, nor looke me in the face. Where art thou now? Come hither: I am here. Nay then thou mockst me. Thou shalt buy this dear, To measure, out my length, on this cold bed: By daies approach looke to be visited. O weary night, O long and tedious night,

+ Abate thy houres, shine comforts, from the east; That I may backe to {Athens}, by day light, From these that my poore company detest: And sleepe, that sometimes shuts vp sorrowes eye, Steale mee #a while from mine owne companie. Yet but three? Come one more. Two of both kindes makes vp fower. Heare shee comes, curst and sadde. {Cupid} is a knauish ladde, Thus to make poore females madde. Neuer so weary, neuer so in woe, Bedabbled with the deaw, and torne with briers: I can no further crawle, no further goe: My legges can keepe no pase with my desires. Here will I rest mee, till the breake of day: Heauens shielde {Lysander}, if they meane a fray. On the ground, sleepe sound: Ile apply your eye, gentle louer, remedy. When thou wak'st, thou tak'st True delight, in the sight, of thy former ladies eye: And the country prouerbe knowne, That euery man should take his owne, In your waking shall be showen. {Iacke} shall haue {Iill}: nought shall goe #ill: The man shall haue his mare again, & all shall be well. + Come sit thee downe vpon this flowry bed, While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy, And stick musk roses in thy sleeke smooth head, And kisse thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy. Where's {Pease}-#{blossome}? Ready. Scratch my heade, {Pease-#blossome.} Wher's Moun%sieur {Cobweb}?Ready,

+ Mounsieur {Cobweb}, good Mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red hipt Humble #Bee, on the toppe of a thistle: and good Mounsieur, bring mee the hony bagge. Doe not fret your selfe too much, in the action, Mounsieur: and good Mounsieur haue a care, the honybagge breake not, I wold be loath to haue you ouer%flowen with a honibag {signior.} Where's Mounsieur {Mus%tardseede}? _ Readie. Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur {Mustardseede.} Pray you, leaue your curtsie, good Mounsieur. What's your #will? Nothing good Mounsieur, but to helpe Caualery {Cobwebbe}, to scratch. I must to the Barbers, Mounsieur. For me thinkes I am maruailes hairy about the face. And I am such a tender Asse, if my haire doe but tickle mee, I must scratch. What, wilt thou heare some musique, my sweete loue? I haue a reasonable good eare in musique. Lets haue the tongs, and the bones. Or, say sweete loue, what thou desirest to eate. Truely a pecke of prouander. I could mounch your good dry Oates. Me thinkes, I haue a great desire to a bot%tle of hay. Good hay, sweete hay hath no fellow. + I haue a venturous Fairy, that shall seeke the Squirils| hoord, And fetch thee newe nuts. I had rather haue a handfull, or two of dryed pease. But, I pray you, let none of your people stirre me: I haue an exposition of sleepe come vpon mee. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my armes, Faieries be gon, and be alwaies away. So doth the woodbine, the sweete Honisuckle, Gently entwist: the female Iuy so Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme,

+ O how I loue thee! how I dote on thee! Welcome good {Robin.} Seest thou this sweete sight? Her dotage now I doe beginne to pittie. For meeting her of late, behinde the wood, Seeking sweete fauours for this hatefull foole, I did vpbraid her, and fall out with her. For she his hairy temples then had rounded, With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers. And that same deawe which sometime on the buddes, Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearles; Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes, Like teares, that did their owne disgrace bewaile. When I had, at my pleasure, taunted her, And she, in milde tearmes, begd my patience, I then did aske of her, her changeling childe: Which straight she gaue mee, and her Fairy sent To beare him, to my bower, in Fairie land. And now I haue the boy, I will vndoe This hatefull imperfection of her eyes. And, gentle {Puck}, take this transformed scalpe, From #of the heade of this {Athenian} swaine; That hee, awaking when the other do, May all to {Athens} backe againe repaire, And thinke no more of this nights accidents, But as the fearce vexation of a dreame. But first I will release the Fairy Queene. Be, as thou wast wont to bee: See, as thou wast wont to see. {Dians} budde, or {Cupids} flower, Hath such force, and blessed power. Now, my {Titania}, wake you, my sweete Queene. My {Oberon}, what visions haue I seene! Me thought I was enamourd of an Asse. There lyes your loue.

+ How came these things to passe? O, how mine eyes doe loath his visage now! Silence #a while. {Robin}, take off this head: {Titania}, musicke call, and strike more dead Then common sleepe: of all these, fiue the sense. Musick, howe musick: such as charmeth sleepe. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fools eyes| peepe. Sound Musick: come, my queen, take hands with me, And rocke the ground whereon these sleepers be. Now, thou and I are new in amitie, And will to morrow midnight, solemnely Daunce, in Duke {Theseus} house triumphantly, And blesse it to all faire prosperitie. There shall the paires of faithfull louers be Wedded, with {Theseus}, all in iollitie. Fairy King, attend, and marke: I do heare the morning Larke. Then my Queene, in silence sad, Trippe we after nights shade: We, the Globe, can compasse soone, Swifter then the wandring Moone. Come my Lord, and in our flight, Tell me how it came this night, That I sleeping here was found, With these mortals on the ground. Goe one of you, finde out the forrester: For now our obseruation is performde. And since we haue the vaward of the day, My loue shall heare the musicke of my hounds. Vncouple, in the westerne vallie, let them goe: Dispatch I say, and finde the forrester. Wee will, faire Queene, vp to the mountaines toppe, And marke the musicall confusion Of hounds and Echo in coniunction.

+ I was with {Hercules} and {Cadmus}, once, When in a wood of {Creete} they bayed the Beare, With hounds of {Sparta}: neuer did I heare Such gallant chiding. For besides the groues, The skyes, the fountaines, euery region neare Seeme all one mutuall cry. I neuer heard So musicall a discord, such sweete thunder. My hounds are bred out of the {Spartane} kinde: So flew'd, so sanded: and their heads are hung With eares, that sweepe away the morning deawe, Crooke kneed, and deawlapt, like {Thessalian} Buls: Slowe in pursuit; but matcht in mouth like bels, Each vnder each. A cry more tunable Was neuer hollowd to, nor cheerd with horne, In {Creete}, in {Sparta}, nor in {Thessaly.} Iudge when you heare. But soft. What nymphes are these? My Lord, this is my daughter heere #a sleepe, And this {Lysander}, this {Demetrius} is, This {Helena}, old {Nedars Helena.} I wonder of their being here together. No doubt, they rose vp earely, to obserue The right of #May: and hearing our intent, Came heere, in grace of our solemnitie. But speake, {Egeus}, is not this the day, That {Hermia} should giue answer of her choyce? It is, my Lord. Goe, bid the huntsmen wake them with their |hornes. Good morrow, friends. Saint {Valentine} is past. Begin these wood birds but to couple, now? Pardon, my Lord. I pray you all, stand vp. I know, you two are Riuall enemies. How comes this gentle concord in the worlde, That hatred is so farre from iealousie,

+ To sleepe by hate, and feare no enmitie, My Lord, I shal reply amazedly, Halfe sleepe, halfe waking. But, as yet, I sweare, I cannot truely say how I came here. But as I thinke (for truely would I speake) And now I doe bethinke mee, so it is; I came with {Hermia}, hither. Our intent Was to be gon from {Athens}: where we might Without the perill of the {Athenian} lawe, Enough, enough my Lord: you haue enough. I begge the law, the law, vpon his head: They would haue stolne away, they would, {Demetrius}, Thereby to haue defeated you and me: You of your wife, and mee, of my consent: Of my consent, that she should be your wife. My Lord, faire {Helen} told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither, to this wood, And I in fury hither followed them; Faire {Helena}, in fancy following mee. But my good Lord, I wote not by what power (But by some power it is) my loue, To {Hermia} (melted as the snowe) Seemes to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaude, Which in my childehoode I did dote vpon: And all the faith, the vertue of my heart, The obiect and the pleasure of mine eye, Is onely {Helena.} To her, my Lord, Was I betrothed, ere I see {Hermia}: But, like a sicknesse, did I loath this foode. But, as in health, come to my naturall taste, Now I doe wish it, loue it, long for it, And will for euermore be true to it. Faire louers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse, we more will here anon.

+ {Egeus}, I will ouerbeare your #will: For in the Temple, #by and by, with vs, These couples shall eternally be knit. And, for the morning now is somthing worne, Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside. Away, with vs, to {Athens.} Three and three, Weele holde a feast, in great solemnitie. Come {Hyppolita.} These things seeme small and vndistinguishable, Like farre off mountaines turned into clouds. Me thinks I see these things, with parted eye, When euery thing seemes double. So mee thinkes: And I haue found {Demetrius}, like a iewell, Mine owne, and not mine owne. Are you sure That we are awake? It seemes to me, That yet we sleepe, we dreame. Do not you thinke, The Duke was here, and bid vs follow him? Yea, and my father. And {Hyppolita.} And he did bid vs follow to the Temple. Why then, we are awake: lets follow him, and by the way lets recount our dreames. When my cue comes, call mee, and I will answere. My next is, most faire {Pyramus.} Hey ho. {Peeter Quince}? {Flute}, the bellowes mender? {Snout} the tinker? {Starueling}? Gods my life! Stolne hence, and left mee #a sleepe? I haue had a most rare vision. I haue had a dreame, past the wit of man, to say; what dreame it was. Man is but an Asse, if hee goe about expound this dreame. Me thought I was, there is no man can tell what. Me thought I was, and me thought I had. But man is but patcht a foole, If hee will offer to say, what mee thought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the eare of man hath not seene, mans

+ hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceiue, nor his hearte to report, what my dreame was. I will get {Pe%ter} {Quince} to write a Ballet of this dreame: it shall be call'd {Bottoms Dreame}; because it hath no bottome: and I will sing it in the latter end of a Play, before the Duke. Peraduenture, to make it the more gratious, I shall sing it at her death. + Haue you sent to {Bottoms} house? Is he come home, yet? + Hee cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is trans%ported. _ If hee come not, then the Play is mard. It goes not forward. Doth it? + It is not possible. You haue not a man, in all {A%thens}, able to discharge {Pyramus}, but he. No, hee hath simply the best wit of any handy%craft man, in {Athens.} Yea, and the best person #to, and hee is a very Paramour, for a sweete voice. You must say, Paragon. A Paramour is (God blesse vs) a thing of nought. Masters, the Duke is comming from the Tem%ple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more married. If our sport had gon forward, wee had all beene made men. O sweete bully {Bottome.} Thus hath hee lost six pence a day, during his life: hee coulde not haue scaped sixe pence a day. #And the Duke had not giuen him six pence a day, for playing {Pyramus}, Ile be hanged. He would haue deserued it. Six pence a day, in {Pyramus},

+ or nothing. Where are these lads? Where are these harts? {Bottom}, o most couragious day! O most happy houre! Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but aske me not what. For if I tell you, I am not true {Athenian.} I will tell you euery thing right as it fell out. Let vs heare, sweete {Bottom.} Not a word of mee. All that I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparrell together, good strings to your beardes, new ribands to your pumpes, meete presently at the palace, euery man looke ore his part For, the short and the long is, our play is preferd. In any case let {Thisby} haue cleane linnen: and let not him, that plaies the Lyon, pare his nailes: for they shall hang out for the Lyons clawes. And most deare Actors, eate no O%nions, nor garlicke: for we are to vtter sweete breath: and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweete Comedy. No more wordes. Away, go away. + Tis strange, my {Theseus}, that these louers speake of. More straunge then true. I neuer may beleeue These antique fables, nor these Fairy toyes. Louers, and mad men haue such seething braines, Such shaping phantasies, that apprehend more, Then coole reason euer comprehends. The lunatick, The louer, and the Poet are of imagination all compact. One sees more diuels, then vast #hell can holde: That is the mad man. The louer, all as frantick, Sees {Helens} beauty in a brow of {Aegypt.} The Poets eye, in a fine frenzy, rolling, doth glance From heauen to earth, from earth to heauen. And as Imagination bodies forth the formes of things

+ Vnknowne: the Poets penne turnes them to shapes, And giues to ayery nothing, a locall habitation, And a name. Such trickes hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some ioy, It comprehends some bringer of that ioy. Or in the night, imagining some feare, How easie is a bush suppos'd a Beare? But, all the story of the night told ouer, And all their minds transfigur'd so together, More witnesseth than fancies images, And growes to something of great constancy: But howsoeuer, strange and admirable. Here come the louers, full of ioy and mirth. Ioy, gentle friends, ioy and fresh daies Of loue accompany your hearts. More then to vs, waite in your royall walkes, your boorde, your bedde. Come now: what maskes, what daunces shall wee |haue, To weare away this long age of three hours, betweene #Or after supper, & bed-#time? Where is our vsuall manager Of mirth? What Reuels are in hand? Is there no play, To ease the anguish of a torturing hower? Call {Philostrate.} Here mighty {Theseus.} Say, what abridgement haue you for this euening? What maske, what musicke? How shall we beguile The lazy tyme, if not with some delight? There is a briefe, how many sports are ripe. Make choyce, of which your Highnesse will see first. The battell with the {Centaures} to be sung, By an {Athenian} Eunuche, to the Harpe? Weele none of that. That haue I tolde my loue, In glory of my kinsman {Hercules.} The ryot of the tipsie {Bachanals},

+ Tearing the {Thracian} singer, in their rage? That is an olde deuise: and it was plaid, When I from {Thebes} came last a conquerer. The thrise three Muses, mourning for the death Of learning, late deceast, in beggery? That is some {Satire} keene and criticall, Not sorting with a nuptiall ceremony. A tedious briefe Scene of young {Pyramus} And his loue {Thisby}; very tragicall mirth? Merry, and tragicall? Tedious, and briefe? That is hot Ise, And won$drous strange snow. How shall we find the con$cord Of this discord? A Play there is, my Lord, some ten words long; Which is as briefe, as I haue knowne a play: But, by ten words, my Lord it is too long: Which makes it tedious. For in all the Play, There is not one word apt, one player fitted. And tragicall, my noble Lord, it is. For {Pyramus}, Therein, doth kill himselfe. Which when I saw Rehearst, I must confesse, made mine eyes water: But more merry teares the passion of loud laughter Neuer shed. What are they, that doe play it? Hard handed men, that worke in {Athens} here, Which neuer labour'd in their minds till now: And now haue toyled their vnbreathed memories, With this same Play, against your nuptiall. And wee will heare it. No, my noble Lord, it is not for you. I haue heard It ouer, and it is nothing, nothing in the world; Vnlesse you can finde sport in their entents, Extreamely stretcht, and cond with cruell paine, To do you seruice. I will heare that play. For neuer any thing Can be amisse, when simplenesse and duety tender it.