ACT III.
Scene I. The wood. Titania lying asleep. [000]
MSND III. 1 Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.
Bot. Are we all met?
[002] Quin. Pat, pat; and here’s a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn-brake our tiring-house; and we will do it in 005 action as we will do it before the duke.
Bot. Peter Quince,—
Quin. What sayest thou, bully Bottom?
Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw 010 a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?
[012] Snout. By’r lakin, a parlous fear.
Star. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.
[015] 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 [018] killed indeed; and, for the more better assurance, tell them that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: 020 this will put them out of fear.
Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.
[023] Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.
[025] Snout. 025 Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Star. I fear it, I promise you.
[027] 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 [030] than your lion living; and we ought to look to ’t.
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 [035] 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 040 am a man as other men are:’ and there indeed let him [041] 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 moonlight into a chamber; for, you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight.
[045] Snout. Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?
Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find [047] out moonshine, find out moonshine.
Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.
[049] Bot. Why, then may you leave a casement of the great 050 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 lantern, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of moonshine. Then, there is another 055 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.
[058] Snout. You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?
060 Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and let him [061] have some plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast about [062] him, to signify wall; and 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 065 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 according to his cue.
Enter Puck behind.
[068] Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
070 What, a play toward! I’ll be an auditor;
[071] An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin. Speak, Pyramus. Thisby, stand forth.
[073] Bot. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,—
[074] Quin. Odours, odours.
075 Bot. —— odours savours sweet:
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby [076] dear.
But hark, a voice! stay thou but here [077] awhile,
And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit.
Puck. [079] A stranger Pyramus than e’er play’d here. [Exit.
[080] Flu. Must I speak now?
[081] Quin. Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he
goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.
Flu. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
[085] Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely 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 090 part at once, cues and all. Pyramus enter: your cue is past; it is, ‘never tire.’
Flu. O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never [092] tire.
Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass’s head.
[093] Bot. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.
Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, [095] masters! fly, masters! Help! [Exeunt Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.
[096] Puck. I’ll follow you, I’ll lead you about a round,
[097] Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:
Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
[099] A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
100 And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
[101] Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [Exit.
Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard.
Re-enter Snout.
[104] Snout. O bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on 105 thee?
Bot. What do you see? you see an ass-head of your own, do you? [Exit Snout.
Re-enter Quince.
Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. [Exit.
110 Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down here, and [113] I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. [Sings.
[114] The ousel cock so black of hue,
115 With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
[117] The wren with little quill;
Tita. [Awaking] What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
Bot. [Sings
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
120 The plain-song cuckoo gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer nay;—
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?
125 Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour’d of thy note;
[127] So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
[130] 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.
135 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.
140 I am a spirit of no common rate:
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
[145] And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
[148] Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
Enter Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed.
First Fai.
[149] Ready.
Sec. Fai.
And I.
Third Fai.
And I.
Fourth Fai.
And I.
All.
Where shall we go?
150 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;
[154] The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
155 And for night-tapers crop 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 moonbeams from his sleeping eyes:
160 Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
[161] First Fai. Hail, mortal!
Sec. Fai. Hail!
Third Fai. Hail!
Fourth Fai. Hail!
165 Bot. I cry your worships mercy, heartily: I beseech your worship’s name.
Cob. Cobweb.
[168] Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with 170 you. Your name, honest gentleman?
Peas. Peaseblossom.
Bot. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good [174] Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance 175 too. Your name, I beseech you, sir?
[176] Mus. Mustardseed.
[177] Bot. Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you [180] your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire [181] your more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.
Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
[184] And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
185 Lamenting some enforced chastity.
[186] Tie up my love’s tongue, bring him silently. [Exeunt.
Scene II. Another part of the wood. [000]
MSND III. 2 Enter Oberon.
Obe. I wonder if Titania be awaked;
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
[003] Which she must dote on in extremity.
Enter Puck.
Here comes my messenger.
[004] How now, mad spirit!
[005] What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
[006] Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
010 That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial-day.
[013] The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
015 Forsook his scene, and enter’d in a brake:
When I did him at this advantage take,
[017] An ass’s nole I fixed on his head:
Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
[019] And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
020 As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
[021] Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun’s report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
[025] And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls;
He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
[030] Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked, and straightway loved an ass.
035 Obe. This falls out better than I could devise.
[036] But hast thou yet latch’d the Athenian’s eyes
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
Puck. I took him sleeping,—that is finish’d too,—
And the Athenian woman by his side;
[040] That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.
Enter Hermia and Demetrius.
[041] 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.
045 Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,
For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
[048] Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
050 The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me: would he have stolen away
[052] From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon
This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon
[054] May through the centre creep, and so displease
[055] Her brother’s noontide with the Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murder’d him;
[057] So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.
[058] Dem. So should the murder’d look; and so should I,
Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty:
[060] Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
Her. What’s this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
[064] Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
[065] Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds
Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
Henceforth be never number’d among men!
[068] O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake!
[069] Durst thou have look’d upon him being awake,
[070] And hast thou kill’d him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
[072] An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
[074] Dem. You spend your passion on a misprised mood:
075 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.
[080] 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 heaviness doth heavier grow
[085] For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
[087] If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down and sleeps.
[088] Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love-juice on some true-love’s sight:
090 Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
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.
[094] Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind,
095 And Helena of Athens look thou find:
All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer,
[097] With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear:
By some illusion see thou bring her here:
[099] I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.
[100] Puck. I go, I go; look how I go,
[101] Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. [Exit.
Obe.
Flower of this purple dye,
Hit with Cupid’s archery,
Sink in apple of his eye.
105 When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.
When thou wakest, if she be by,
[109] Beg of her for remedy.
Re-enter Puck.
Puck.
110 Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover’s fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
115 Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Obe.
Stand aside: the noise they make
Will cause Demetrius to awake.
Puck.
Then will two at once woo one;
That must needs be sport alone;
120 And those things do best please me
That befal preposterously.
Enter Lysander and Helena.
[122] Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
[123] Scorn and derision never come in tears:
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
125 In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
130 These vows are Hermia’s: will you give her o’er?
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
Lys. I had no judgement when to her I swore.
135 Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [Awaking] [137] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
140 Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus’ snow,
Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
[143] When thou hold’st up thy hand: O, let me kiss
[144] This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
[145] Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me for your merriment:
If you were civil and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
[150] But you must join in souls to mock me too?
[151] If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so;
To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
155 You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena:
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes
With your derision! none of noble sort
160 Would so offend a virgin, and extort
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:
[164] And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
165 In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part;
[166] And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
[167] Whom I do love, and will do till my death.
Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
170 If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone.
[171] My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn’d,
[172] And now to Helen is it home return’d,
[173] There to remain.
Lys. Helen, it is not so.
Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
[175] Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.
Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
Re-enter Hermia.
[177] Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
180 It pays the hearing double recompense.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
[182] Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?
185 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
[188] Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know,
[190] The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?
Her. You speak not as you think: it cannot be.
Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.
195 Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
[199] The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent,
200 When we have chid the hasty-footed time
[201] For parting us,—O, is all forgot?
[202] All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
[204] Have with our needles created both one flower,
205 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
[210] But yet an union in partition,
[211] Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
[213] Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
[215] And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly:
[218] Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
[220] Her. I am amazed at your passionate words.
I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.
Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius,
225 Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
230 And tender me, forsooth, affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
But miserable most, to love unloved?
235 This you should pity rather than despise.
Her. I understand not what you mean by this.
[237] Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks,
[238] Make mouths upon me when I turn my back;
Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up:
240 This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
[241] If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument.
[243] But fare ye well: ’tis partly my own fault;
Which death or absence soon shall remedy.
245 Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse:
[246] My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
Hel. O excellent!
Her.
Sweet, do not scorn her so.
Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat:
[250] Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.
Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do:
I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
To prove him false that says I love thee not.
Dem. I say I love thee more than he can do.
255 Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Dem. Quick, come!
Her.
Lysander, whereto tends all this?
[257] Lys. Away, you Ethiope!
Dem.
No, no; he’ll . . .
[258] Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow,
But yet come not: you are a tame man, go!
[260] Lys. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!
Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this?
Sweet love,—
Lys. Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out!
[264] Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!
Her. Do you not jest?
Hel.
265 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.
Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
270 Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so.
[271] Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
[272] 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.
275 Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me:
Why, then you left me,—O, the gods forbid!—
In earnest, shall I say?
Lys.
Ay, by my life;
And never did desire to see thee more.
[279] Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
280 Be certain, nothing truer; ’tis no jest
That I do hate thee, and love Helena.
[282] Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom!
You thief of love! what, have you come by night
And stolen my love’s heart from him?
Hel.
Fine, i’faith!
285 Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!
[289] Her. Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game.
290 Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urged her height;
[292] And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail’d with him.
And are you grown so high in his esteem,
295 Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
[299] Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
300 Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
I am a right maid for my cowardice:
Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
[304] Because she is something lower than myself,
That I can match her.
Her.
305 Lower! hark, again.
Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me
I evermore did love you, Hermia,
Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong’d you;
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
310 I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He follow’d you; for love I follow’d him;
But he hath chid me hence, and threaten’d me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
315 To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further: let me go:
You see how simple and how fond I am.
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.
[320] With Demetrius.
[321] Lys. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
Dem. No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
[323] Hel. O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd!
She was a vixen when she went to school;
325 And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Her. Little again! nothing but low and little!
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.
Lys.
Get you gone, you dwarf;
[329] You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made;
You bead, you acorn.
Dem.
330 You are too officious
In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone: speak not of Helena;
Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend
Never so little show of love to her,
[335] Thou shalt aby it.
Lys.
Now she holds me not;
Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right,
[337] Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
Dem. Follow! nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jole. [Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius.
Her. You, mistress, all this coil is ’long of you:
Nay, go not back.
Hel.
[340] I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit.
[344] Her. I am amazed, and know not what to say. [Exit.
[345] Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistakest,
[346] Or else committ’st thy knaveries wilfully.
Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me I should know the man
[349] By the Athenian garments he had on?
350 And so far blameless proves my enterprise,
[351] That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes;
[352] And so far am I glad it so did sort,
As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
Obe. Thou see’st these lovers seek a place to fight:
355 Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
The starry welkin cover thou anon
[357] With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;
And lead these testy rivals so astray,
As one come not within another’s way.
360 Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
And from each other look thou lead them thus.
Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
365 With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:
Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye;
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
[368] To take from thence all error with his might,
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
370 When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
With league whose date till death shall never end.
[374] Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
375 I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charmed eye release
From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.
Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
[379] For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
380 And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger;
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;
385 For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
[386] They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-brow’d night.
Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:
[389] I with the morning’s love have oft made sport;
390 And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
[392] Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
[393] Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
[394] But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
395 We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit.
Puck.
[396] Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down:
I am fear’d in field and town:
Goblin, lead them up and down.
400 Here comes one.
Re-enter Lysander.
Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now.
Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?
Lys. I will be with thee straight.
Puck.
Follow me, then,
To plainer ground. [Exit Lysander, as following the voice.
Re-enter Demetrius.
Dem.
Lysander! speak again:
405 Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
[406] Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars,
And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child;
410 I’ll whip thee with a rod: he is defiled
That draws a sword on thee.
Dem.
Yea, art thou there?
Puck. Follow my voice: we’ll try no manhood here. [Exeunt.
Re-enter Lysander.
[413] Lys. He goes before me and still dares me on:
[414] When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
415 The villain is much lighter-heel’d than I:
[416] I follow’d fast, but faster he did fly;
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
And here will rest me. [Lies down.] [418] Come, thou gentle day!
For if but once thou show me thy grey light,
[420] I’ll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.
Re-enter Puck and Demetrius.
[421] Puck. Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why comest thou not?
Dem. Abide me, if thou darest; for well I wot
Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place,
And darest not stand, nor look me in the face.
[425] Where art thou now?
Puck.
425 Come hither: I am here.
[426] Dem. Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this dear,
If ever I thy face by daylight see:
Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.
[430] By day’s approach look to be visited. [Lies down and sleeps.
Re-enter Helena.
[431] Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
[432] Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east,
That I may back to Athens by daylight,
From these that my poor company detest:
[435] And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,
[436] Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Lies down and sleeps.
[437] Puck. Yet but three? Come one more;
[438] Two of both kinds makes up four.
[439] Here she comes, curst and sad:
440 Cupid is a knavish lad,
Thus to make poor females mad.
Re-enter Hermia.
[442] Her. Never so weary, never so in woe;
Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;
I can no further crawl, no further go;
445 My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
Here will I rest me till the break of day.
[447] Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lies down and sleeps.
Puck.
On the ground
[449] Sleep sound:
450 I’ll apply
[451] To your eye,
[452] Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander’s eyes.
When thou wakest,
[454] Thou takest
455 True delight
In the sight
Of thy former lady’s eye:
And the country proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
460 In your waking shall be shown:
Jack shall have Jill;
Nought shall go ill;
[463] The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. [Exit.
[000] ACT IV.
Scene I. The same. Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia lying asleep.
MSND IV. 1 Enter Titania and Bottom; Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed, and other Fairies attending; Oberon behind unseen.
Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
005 Bot. Where’s Peaseblossom?
Peas. Ready.
[007] Bot. Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s Mounsieur Cobweb?
Cob. Ready.
[010] Bot. Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag 015 break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where’s Mounsieur Mustardseed.
Mus. Ready.
[018] Bot. Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.
020 Mus. What’s your will?
[021] Bot. Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery [022] Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s, mounsieur; for [023] methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am [024] such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
[025] Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
[026] Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s [027] have the tongs and the bones.
Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your 030 good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
[032] Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
[033] The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. 035 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.
[038] Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. [Exeunt Fairies.
[039] So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
[040] Gently entwist; the female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They sleep.
Enter Puck.
Obe. [Advancing] Welcome, good Robin. See’st thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity:
045 For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
[046] Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her;
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
050 And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,
[052] Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes,
Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
055 And she in mild terms begg’d my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
[057] Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
060 This hateful imperfection of her eyes:
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
[062] From off the head of this Athenian swain;
[063] That, he awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair,
065 And think no more of this night’s accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the fairy queen.
[068] Be as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see:
[070] Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower
Hath such force and blessed power.
Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.
Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
Methought I was enamour’d of an ass.
Obe. There lies your love.
Tita.
075 How came these things to pass?
[076] O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
[077] Obe. Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.
Titania, music call; and strike more dead
[079] Than common sleep of all these five the sense.
[080] Tita. Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! [Music, still.
[081] Puck. Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.
Obe. Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
085 And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,
[087] And bless it to all fair prosperity:
[088] There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
Puck.
[090] Fairy king, attend, and mark:
I do hear the morning lark.
Obe.
[092] Then, my queen, in silence sad,
[093] Trip we after the night’s shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
095 Swifter than the wandering moon.
Tita.
Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
[098] That I sleeping here was found
[099] With these mortals on the ground. [Horns winded within. [Exeunt.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.
[100] The. Go, one of you, find out the forester;
For now our observation is perform’d;
And since we have the vaward of the day,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
[104] Uncouple in the western valley; let them go:
105 Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. [Exit an Attend.
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top,
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
[110] When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear
Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves,
[113] The skies, the fountains, every region near
[114] Seem’d all one mutual cry: I never heard
115 So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flew’d, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
[119] Crook-knee’d, and dew-lapp’d like Thessalian bulls;
120 Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never holla’d to, nor cheer’d with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:
Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these?
[125] Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;
And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;
[127] This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena:
[128] I wonder of their being here together.
The. No doubt they rose up early to observe
[130] The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.
But speak, Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Ege. It is, my lord.
135 The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. [Horns and shout within. Lys., Dem., Hel., and Her., wake and start up.
[136] Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
Lys. Pardon, my lord.
The.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you two are rival enemies:
140 How comes this gentle concord in the world,
[141] That hatred is so far from jealousy,
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?
Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,
145 I cannot truly say how I came here;
But, as I think,—for truly would I speak,
And now I do bethink me, so it is,—
I came with Hermia hither: our intent
[149] Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
150 Without the peril of the Athenian law.
Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:
I beg the law, the law, upon his head.
They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me,
155 You of your wife and me of my consent,
Of my consent that she should be your wife.
Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow’d them,
[160] Fair Helena in fancy following me.
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,—
[162] But by some power it is,—my love to Hermia,
[163] Melted as the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaud,
165 Which in my childhood I did dote upon;
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
[169] Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia:
[170] But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
[172] Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.
The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
[175] Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple, by and by, with us
These couples shall eternally be knit:
And, for the morning now is something worn,
180 Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
Away with us to Athens! three and three,
We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.
[183] Come, Hippolyta. [Exeunt The., Hip., Ege., and train.
[184] Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable,
185 Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.
Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When every thing seems double.
Hel.
So methinks:
[188] And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
[189] Mine own, and not mine own.
Dem.
Are you sure
190 That we are awake? It seems to me
That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think
The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?
Her. Yea; and my father.
Hel.
And Hippolyta.
[194] Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.
[195] Dem. Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him;
[196] And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.
[197] Bot. [Awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, ‘Most fair Pyramus.’ Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the 200 tinker! Starveling! God’s my life, stolen hence, and left [201] me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man [203] is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was.—and methought I had,—but man is but a patched [205] fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince 210 to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom’s Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the [212] latter end of a play, before the Duke: peradventure, to make [213] it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. [Exit.
[000] Scene II. Athens. Quince’s house.
MSND IV. 2 Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.
[001] Quin. Have you sent to Bottom’s house? is he come home yet?
[003] Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
[005] Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred: it goes not forward, doth it?
Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.
Flu. No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft 010 man in Athens.
[011] Quin. Yea, and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.
[013] Flu. You must say ‘paragon’: a paramour is, God [014] bless us, a thing of naught.
Enter Snug.
015 Snug. Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.
Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence [019] a day during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence 020 a day: an the Duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.
Enter Bottom.
Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts?
Quin. Bottom! O most courageous day! O most 025 happy hour!
Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me [027] not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will [028] tell you every thing, right as it fell out.
Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
[030] Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o’er his part; for [034] the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any 035 case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor [038] garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more [040] words: away! go, away! [Exeunt.