A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM


ACT I



SCENE I	Athens. The palace of THESEUS.


	[Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and
	Attendants]

THESEUS	Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
	Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
	Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow
	This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
	Like to a step-dame or a dowager
	Long withering out a young man revenue.

HIPPOLYTA	Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
	Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
	And then the moon, like to a silver bow
	New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
	Of our solemnities.

THESEUS	Go, Philostrate,
	Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
	Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
	Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
	The pale companion is not for our pomp.

	[Exit PHILOSTRATE]

	Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
	And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
	But I will wed thee in another key,
	With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.

	[Enter EGEUS, HERMIA, LYSANDER, and DEMETRIUS]

EGEUS	Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!

THESEUS	Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?

EGEUS	Full of vexation come I, with complaint
	Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
	Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord,
	This man hath my consent to marry her.
	Stand forth, Lysander: and my gracious duke,
	This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child;
	Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
	And interchanged love-tokens with my child:
	Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
	With feigning voice verses of feigning love,
	And stolen the impression of her fantasy
	With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
	Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats, messengers
	Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth:
	With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart,
	Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
	To stubborn harshness: and, my gracious duke,
	Be it so she; will not here before your grace
	Consent to marry with Demetrius,
	I beg the ancient privilege 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 law
	Immediately provided in that case.

THESEUS	What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid:
	To you your father should be as a god;
	One that composed your beauties, yea, and one
	To whom you are but as a form in wax
	By him imprinted and within his power
	To leave the figure or disfigure it.
	Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.

HERMIA	So is Lysander.

THESEUS	                  In himself he is;
	But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
	The other must be held the worthier.

HERMIA	I would my father look'd but with my eyes.

THESEUS	Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.

HERMIA	I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
	I know not by what power I am made bold,
	Nor how it may concern my modesty,
	In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
	But I beseech your grace that I may know
	The worst that may befall me in this case,
	If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

THESEUS	Either to die the death or to abjure
	For ever the society of men.
	Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;
	Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
	Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
	You can endure the livery of a nun,
	For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
	To live a barren sister all your life,
	Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
	Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood,
	To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
	But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
	Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
	Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.

HERMIA	So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
	Ere I will my virgin patent up
	Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
	My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

THESEUS	Take time to pause; and, by the nest new moon--
	The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
	For everlasting bond of fellowship--
	Upon that day either prepare to die
	For disobedience to your father's will,
	Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
	Or on Diana's altar to protest
	For aye austerity and single life.

DEMETRIUS	Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield
	Thy crazed title to my certain right.

LYSANDER	You have her father's love, Demetrius;
	Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

EGEUS	Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love,
	And what is mine my love shall render him.
	And she is mine, and all my right of her
	I do estate unto Demetrius.

LYSANDER	I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
	As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
	My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
	If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
	And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
	I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
	Why should not I then prosecute my right?
	Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
	Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
	And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
	Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
	Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

THESEUS	I must confess that I have heard so much,
	And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
	But, being over-full of self-affairs,
	My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;
	And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,
	I have some private schooling for you both.
	For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
	To fit your fancies to your father's will;
	Or else the law of Athens yields you up--
	Which by no means we may extenuate--
	To death, or to a vow of single life.
	Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?
	Demetrius and Egeus, go along:
	I must employ you in some business
	Against our nuptial and confer with you
	Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

EGEUS	With duty and desire we follow you.

	[Exeunt all but LYSANDER and HERMIA]

LYSANDER	How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?
	How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

HERMIA	Belike for want of rain, which I could well
	Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

LYSANDER	Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,
	Could ever hear by tale or history,
	The course of true love never did run smooth;
	But, either it was different in blood,--

HERMIA	O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low.

LYSANDER	Or else misgraffed in respect of years,--

HERMIA	O spite! too old to be engaged to young.

LYSANDER	Or else it stood upon the choice of friends,--

HERMIA	O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

LYSANDER	Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
	War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
	Making it momentany as a sound,
	Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
	Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
	That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
	And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
	The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
	So quick bright things come to confusion.

HERMIA	If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
	It stands as an edict in destiny:
	Then let us teach our trial patience,
	Because it is a customary cross,
	As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,
	Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.

LYSANDER	A good persuasion: therefore, hear me, Hermia.
	I have a widow aunt, a dowager
	Of great revenue, and she hath no child:
	From Athens is her house remote seven leagues;
	And she respects me as her only son.
	There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
	And to that place the sharp Athenian law
	Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,
	Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;
	And in the wood, a league without the town,
	Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
	To do observance to a morn of May,
	There will I stay for thee.

HERMIA	My good Lysander!
	I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,
	By his best arrow with the golden head,
	By the simplicity of Venus' doves,
	By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
	And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen,
	When the false Troyan under sail was seen,
	By all the vows that ever men have broke,
	In number more than ever women spoke,
	In that same place thou hast appointed me,
	To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

LYSANDER	Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.

	[Enter HELENA]

HERMIA	God speed fair Helena! whither away?

HELENA	Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
	Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
	Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air
	More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
	When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
	Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,
	Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
	My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
	My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
	Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
	The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
	O, teach me how you look, and with what art
	You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

HERMIA	I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.

HELENA	O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

HERMIA	I give him curses, yet he gives me love.

HELENA	O that my prayers could such affection move!

HERMIA	The more I hate, the more he follows me.

HELENA	The more I love, the more he hateth me.

HERMIA	His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.

HELENA	None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine!

HERMIA	Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;
	Lysander and myself will fly this place.
	Before the time I did Lysander see,
	Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me:
	O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
	That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!

LYSANDER	Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
	To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
	Her silver visage in the watery glass,
	Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
	A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,
	Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.

HERMIA	And in the wood, where often you and I
	Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,
	Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
	There my Lysander and myself shall meet;
	And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
	To seek new friends and stranger companies.
	Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us;
	And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!
	Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
	From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.

LYSANDER	I will, my Hermia.

	[Exit HERMIA]

	Helena, adieu:
	As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!

	[Exit]

HELENA	How happy some o'er other some can be!
	Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
	But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
	He will not know what all but he do know:
	And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
	So I, admiring of his qualities:
	Things base and vile, folding no quantity,
	Love can transpose to form and dignity:
	Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
	And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:
	Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste;
	Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste:
	And therefore is Love said to be a child,
	Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
	As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
	So the boy Love is perjured every where:
	For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
	He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;
	And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
	So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt.
	I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
	Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
	Pursue her; and for this intelligence
	If I have thanks, it is a dear expense:
	But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
	To have his sight thither and back again.

	[Exit]




	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM


ACT I



SCENE II	Athens. QUINCE'S house.


	[Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and
	STARVELING]

QUINCE	Is all our company here?

BOTTOM	You were best to call them generally, man by man,
	according to the scrip.

QUINCE	Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is
	thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our
	interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his
	wedding-day at night.

BOTTOM	First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats
	on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow
	to a point.

QUINCE	Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and
	most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

BOTTOM	A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a
	merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your
	actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.

QUINCE	Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.

BOTTOM	Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.

QUINCE	You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

BOTTOM	What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant?

QUINCE	A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.

BOTTOM	That will ask some tears in the true performing of
	it: if I do it, let the audience look to their
	eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some
	measure. To the rest: yet my chief humour is for a
	tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to
	tear a cat in, to make all split.
	The raging rocks
	And shivering shocks
	Shall break the locks
	Of prison gates;
	And Phibbus' car
	Shall shine from far
	And make and mar
	The foolish Fates.
	This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
	This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is
	more condoling.

QUINCE	Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.

FLUTE	Here, Peter Quince.

QUINCE	Flute, you must take Thisby on you.

FLUTE	What is Thisby? a wandering knight?

QUINCE	It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

FLUTE	Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

QUINCE	That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and
	you may speak as small as you will.

BOTTOM	An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too, I'll
	speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne,
	Thisne;' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear,
	and lady dear!'

QUINCE	No, no; you must play Pyramus: and, Flute, you Thisby.

BOTTOM	Well, proceed.

QUINCE	Robin Starveling, the tailor.

STARVELING	Here, Peter Quince.

QUINCE	Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.
	Tom Snout, the tinker.

SNOUT	Here, Peter Quince.

QUINCE	You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father:
	Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I
	hope, here is a play fitted.

SNUG	Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it
	be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

QUINCE	You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

BOTTOM	Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will
	do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar,
	that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again,
	let him roar again.'

QUINCE	An you should do it too terribly, you would fright
	the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek;
	and that were enough to hang us all.

ALL	That would hang us, every mother's son.

BOTTOM	I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the
	ladies out of their wits, they would have no more
	discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my
	voice so that I will roar you as gently as any
	sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any
	nightingale.

QUINCE	You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a
	sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a
	summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man:
	therefore you must needs play Pyramus.

BOTTOM	Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best
	to play it in?

QUINCE	Why, what you will.

BOTTOM	I will discharge it in either your straw-colour
	beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain
	beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your
	perfect yellow.

QUINCE	Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and
	then you will play bare-faced. But, masters, here
	are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request
	you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night;
	and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the
	town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if
	we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with
	company, and our devices known. In the meantime I
	will draw a bill of properties, such as our play
	wants. I pray you, fail me not.

BOTTOM	We will meet; and there we may rehearse most
	obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu.

QUINCE	At the duke's oak we meet.

BOTTOM	Enough; hold or cut bow-strings.

	[Exeunt]


ACT II



SCENE I	A wood near Athens.


	[Enter, from opposite sides, a Fairy, and PUCK]

PUCK	How now, spirit! whither wander you?

Fairy	     Over hill, over dale,
	Thorough bush, thorough brier,
	Over park, over pale,
	Thorough flood, thorough fire,
	I do wander everywhere,
	Swifter than the moon's sphere;
	And I serve the fairy queen,
	To dew her orbs upon the green.
	The cowslips tall her pensioners be:
	In their gold coats spots you see;
	Those be rubies, fairy favours,
	In those freckles live their savours:
	I must go seek some dewdrops here
	And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
	Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:
	Our queen and all our elves come here anon.

PUCK	The king doth keep his revels here to-night:
	Take heed the queen come not within his sight;
	For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
	Because that she as her attendant hath
	A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;
	She never had so sweet a changeling;
	And jealous Oberon would have the child
	Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
	But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
	Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy:
	And now they never meet in grove or green,
	By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
	But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
	Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.

Fairy	Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
	Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
	Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
	That frights the maidens of the villagery;
	Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
	And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
	And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
	Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
	Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
	You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
	Are not you he?

PUCK	                  Thou speak'st aright;
	I am that merry wanderer of the night.
	I jest to Oberon and make him smile
	When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
	Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
	And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
	In very likeness of a roasted crab,
	And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
	And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
	The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
	Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
	Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
	And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
	And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
	And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
	A merrier hour was never wasted there.
	But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

Fairy	And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!

	[Enter, from one side, OBERON, with his train;
	from the other, TITANIA, with hers]

OBERON	Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.

TITANIA	What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence:
	I have forsworn his bed and company.

OBERON	Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?

TITANIA	Then I must be thy lady: but I know
	When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,
	And in the shape of Corin sat all day,
	Playing on pipes of corn and versing love
	To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
	Come from the farthest Steppe of India?
	But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
	Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,
	To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
	To give their bed joy and prosperity.

OBERON	How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
	Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
	Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
	Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night
	From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
	And make him with fair AEgle break his faith,
	With Ariadne and Antiopa?

TITANIA	These are the forgeries of jealousy:
	And never, since the middle summer's spring,
	Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
	By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
	Or in the beached margent of the sea,
	To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
	But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
	Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
	As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
	Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
	Have every pelting river made so proud
	That they have overborne their continents:
	The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
	The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
	Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
	The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
	And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
	The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
	And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
	For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
	The human mortals want their winter here;
	No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
	Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
	Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
	That rheumatic diseases do abound:
	And thorough this distemperature we see
	The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
	Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
	And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
	An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
	Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
	The childing autumn, angry winter, change
	Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
	By their increase, now knows not which is which:
	And this same progeny of evils comes
	From our debate, from our dissension;
	We are their parents and original.

OBERON	Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
	Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
	I do but beg a little changeling boy,
	To be my henchman.

TITANIA	                  Set your heart at rest:
	The fairy land buys not the child of me.
	His mother was a votaress of my order:
	And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
	Full often hath she gossip'd by my side,
	And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
	Marking the embarked traders on the flood,
	When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive
	And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
	Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
	Following,--her womb then rich with my young squire,--
	Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
	To fetch me trifles, and return again,
	As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
	But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
	And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
	And for her sake I will not part with him.

OBERON	How long within this wood intend you stay?

TITANIA	Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
	If you will patiently dance in our round
	And see our moonlight revels, go with us;
	If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.

OBERON	Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

TITANIA	Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!
	We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.

	[Exit TITANIA with her train]

OBERON	Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
	Till I torment thee for this injury.
	My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest
	Since once I sat upon a promontory,
	And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
	Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
	That the rude sea grew civil at her song
	And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
	To hear the sea-maid's music.

PUCK	I remember.

OBERON	That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
	Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
	Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took
	At a fair vestal throned by the west,
	And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
	As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
	But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
	Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon,
	And the imperial votaress passed on,
	In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
	Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
	It fell upon a little western flower,
	Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
	And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
	Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once:
	The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid
	Will make or man or woman madly dote
	Upon the next live creature that it sees.
	Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again
	Ere the leviathan can swim a league.

PUCK	I'll put a girdle round about the earth
	In forty minutes.

	[Exit]

OBERON	                  Having once this juice,
	I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
	And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.
	The next thing then she waking looks upon,
	Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
	On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,
	She shall pursue it with the soul of love:
	And ere I take this charm from off her sight,
	As I can take it with another herb,
	I'll make her render up her page to me.
	But who comes here? I am invisible;
	And I will overhear their conference.

	[Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA, following him]

DEMETRIUS	I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
	Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
	The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
	Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood;
	And here am I, and wode within this wood,
	Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
	Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.

HELENA	You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;
	But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
	Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw,
	And I shall have no power to follow you.

DEMETRIUS	Do I entice you? do I speak you fair?
	Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
	Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?

HELENA	And even for that do I love you the more.
	I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
	The more you beat me, I will fawn on you:
	Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
	Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
	Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
	What worser place can I beg in your love,--
	And yet a place of high respect with me,--
	Than to be used as you use your dog?

DEMETRIUS	Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
	For I am sick when I do look on thee.

HELENA	And I am sick when I look not on you.

DEMETRIUS	You do impeach your modesty too much,
	To leave the city and commit yourself
	Into the hands of one that loves you not;
	To trust the opportunity of night
	And the ill counsel of a desert place
	With the rich worth of your virginity.

HELENA	Your virtue is my privilege: for that
	It is not night when I do see your face,
	Therefore I think I am not in the night;
	Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
	For you in my respect are all the world:
	Then how can it be said I am alone,
	When all the world is here to look on me?

DEMETRIUS	I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
	And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.

HELENA	The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
	Run when you will, the story shall be changed:
	Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
	The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
	Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed,
	When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

DEMETRIUS	I will not stay thy questions; let me go:
	Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
	But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

HELENA	Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
	You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
	Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex:
	We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
	We should be wood and were not made to woo.

	[Exit DEMETRIUS]

	I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
	To die upon the hand I love so well.

	[Exit]

OBERON	Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
	Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love.

	[Re-enter PUCK]

	Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.

PUCK	Ay, there it is.

OBERON	I pray thee, give it me.
	I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
	Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
	Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
	With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
	There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
	Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
	And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
	Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:
	And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
	And make her full of hateful fantasies.
	Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
	A sweet Athenian lady is in love
	With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
	But do it when the next thing he espies
	May be the lady: thou shalt know the man
	By the Athenian garments he hath on.
	Effect it with some care, that he may prove
	More fond on her than she upon her love:
	And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

PUCK	Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.

	[Exeunt]




	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM


ACT II



SCENE II	Another part of the wood.


	[Enter TITANIA, with her train]

TITANIA	Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
	Then, for the third part of a minute, hence;
	Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,
	Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,
	To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
	The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders
	At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;
	Then to your offices and let me rest.

	[The Fairies sing]

	You spotted snakes with double tongue,
	Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
	Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,
	Come not near our fairy queen.
	Philomel, with melody
	Sing in our sweet lullaby;
	Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:
	Never harm,
	Nor spell nor charm,
	Come our lovely lady nigh;
	So, good night, with lullaby.
	Weaving spiders, come not here;
	Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!
	Beetles black, approach not near;
	Worm nor snail, do no offence.
	Philomel, with melody, &c.

Fairy	Hence, away! now all is well:
	One aloof stand sentinel.

	[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps]

	[Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids]

OBERON	What thou seest when thou dost wake,
	Do it for thy true-love take,
	Love and languish for his sake:
	Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
	Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
	In thy eye that shall appear
	When thou wakest, it is thy dear:
	Wake when some vile thing is near.

	[Exit]

	[Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA]

LYSANDER	Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood;
	And to speak troth, I have forgot our way:
	We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
	And tarry for the comfort of the day.

HERMIA	Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed;
	For I upon this bank will rest my head.

LYSANDER	One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
	One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.

HERMIA	Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
	Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

LYSANDER	O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
	Love takes the meaning in love's conference.
	I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit
	So that but one heart we can make of it;
	Two bosoms interchained with an oath;
	So then two bosoms and a single troth.
	Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
	For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

HERMIA	Lysander riddles very prettily:
	Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
	If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
	But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
	Lie further off; in human modesty,
	Such separation as may well be said
	Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
	So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend:
	Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!

LYSANDER	Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
	And then end life when I end loyalty!
	Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest!

HERMIA	With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd!

	[They sleep]

	[Enter PUCK]

PUCK	Through the forest have I gone.
	But Athenian found I none,
	On whose eyes I might approve
	This flower's force in stirring love.
	Night and silence.--Who is here?
	Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
	This is he, my master said,
	Despised the Athenian maid;
	And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
	On the dank and dirty ground.
	Pretty soul! she durst not lie
	Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
	Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
	All the power this charm doth owe.
	When thou wakest, let love forbid
	Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
	So awake when I am gone;
	For I must now to Oberon.

	[Exit]

	[Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running]

HELENA	Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

DEMETRIUS	I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

HELENA	O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so.

DEMETRIUS	Stay, on thy peril: I alone will go.

	[Exit]

HELENA	O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
	The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
	Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
	For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
	How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
	If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
	No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
	For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
	Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
	Do, as a monster fly my presence thus.
	What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
	Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
	But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
	Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
	Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.

LYSANDER	[Awaking]  And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
	Transparent Helena! Nature shows art,
	That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
	Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
	Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

HELENA	Do not say so, Lysander; say not so
	What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
	Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.

LYSANDER	Content with Hermia! No; I do repent
	The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
	Not Hermia but Helena I love:
	Who will not change a raven for a dove?
	The will of man is by his reason sway'd;
	And reason says you are the worthier maid.
	Things growing are not ripe until their season
	So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
	And touching now the point of human skill,
	Reason becomes the marshal to my will
	And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
	Love's stories written in love's richest book.

HELENA	Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
	When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
	Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
	That I did never, no, nor never can,
	Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
	But you must flout my insufficiency?
	Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
	In such disdainful manner me to woo.
	But fare you well: perforce I must confess
	I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
	O, that a lady, of one man refused.
	Should of another therefore be abused!

	[Exit]

LYSANDER	She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there:
	And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
	For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
	The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
	Or as tie heresies that men do leave
	Are hated most of those they did deceive,
	So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
	Of all be hated, but the most of me!
	And, all my powers, address your love and might
	To honour Helen and to be her knight!

	[Exit]

HERMIA	[Awaking]  Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best
	To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
	Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here!
	Lysander, look how I do quake with fear:
	Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
	And you sat smiling at his cruel pray.
	Lysander! what, removed? Lysander! lord!
	What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
	Alack, where are you speak, an if you hear;
	Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
	No? then I well perceive you all not nigh
	Either death or you I'll find immediately.

	[Exit]


