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."

Dem. 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.

Hel. 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 woo'd, and were not made to woo.
I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.
[Exeunt Dem. and Hel.
Obe. 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.
Obe.
I pray thee, give it me,
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania, some time 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;
do it, when the next thing he espies

be the lady: thou shalt know the man
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

SCENE III.—Another part of the wood.
Titania, with her train.

wood;

And to speak truth, I have forgot our way; We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day.

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

Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence;
Love takes the meaning, in love's conference.
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.

Her. Lysander riddles very prettily:
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
[Exeunt. If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied.
Enter 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!
Lys. 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!
Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be
press'd!
[They sleep.

Tila. 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 rear-mices for their leathern wings,
To make my small elves coats: and some, keep
back

The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and won-
ders

At our quaint spirits: sing me now asleep;
Then to your offices, and let me rest.

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 maids

And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe:10

(1) By. (2) The greater cowslip. (3) Vigorous. (7) Efts. (8) Slow-worms, (9) The small tiger, (4) A kind of dance.

(5) Bats. Sports. (10) Possess,

T

Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.
Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt
me thus.

Hel. O, wilt thou darkling1 leave me? do not so.
Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.
[Exit Demetrius.
Hel. 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.
Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet
sake.
[Waking.
Transparent Helena! Nature here 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!

Hel. 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.

Lys. 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.

Hel. 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?

Her. [Starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me a
do thy best,

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

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The same. The queen of fairies lying asleep. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.

Bot. Are we all met?

Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal: this green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.

Bot. Peter Quince,

Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom?

Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?

Snout. By'rlakin,' a parlous fear.

Star. I believe, we inust leave the killing out, when all is done.

Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords; and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better assurance, tell them, that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear.

Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.

Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Star. I fear it, I promise you.

Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it.

Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell he

Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, is not a lion.
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 refus'd,
Should, of another, therefore be abus'd!
Lys. She sees not Hermia :-Hermia, sleep thou
there;

[Exit.

And never may'st thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Or, as the 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!

(1) In the dark.

[Exit.

(2) By all that is dear.

Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: no, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men are:-and there, indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner.

Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.

Snug. Doth the moon shine, that night we play our play?

(3) By our ladykin, (4) Dangerous. (5) Terrible.

Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almahac; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine. Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.

Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement.

Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me afeard.

Re-enter Snout.

Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do Ì

see on thee?

Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head

Re-enter Quince.

Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to dis-of your own; Do you? figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk through the chinks of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom?

translated.

Quin. Bless thec, Bottom! bless thee! thou art [Exit. Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hear I am not afraid. hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall

Pyramus and Thisby whisper.

Quin. If that may be, then all is well: Come, sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake,' and so every one according to his cue.

Enter Puck behind.

Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swag-
gering here,

So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours
sweet,-

Quin. Odours, odours.

Pyr.

--

-Odours savours sweet:

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?

Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again : Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, 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. Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little Exit. reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! and love keep little company together now-a-days: [Aside.-Exit. the more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek," upon

So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.— But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear.

This. Must I speak now?

Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must un-occasion.

derstand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. and is to come again. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine

This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,

Of colour like the red-rose on triumphant brier,
Most briskly 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 part at once, cues and all.-Pyra-
mus enter; your cue is past; it is, never lire."

Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head.
This. O,-As true as truest horse, that yet would

never tire.

Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine :-
Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters! fly, masters! help! [Exe. Clowns.
Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through
brier;

Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a beardless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

(1) Thicket.

(2) Young man.

[Exit.

I

own turn.

Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
am a spirit, of no common rate;
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:
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.
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.

And I.

And I.

1 Fai. Ready. 2 Fai. 3 Fai. 4 Fai. Where shall we go? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,' With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,

(3) The last words of the preceding speech, (4) Afraid. (5) The cuckoo, with his uniform note, which serve as a hint to him who is to speak next. (6) Joke. (7) Gooseberries,

To have my love to bed, and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

1 Fai. Hail, mortal!

2 Fai. Hail!

3 Fai. Hail !

4 Fui. Hail!

I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment (so it came to pass)
Titania wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.

Obe. This falls out better than I could devise.
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,

Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I And the Athenian woman by his side; beseech, your worship's name.

Cob. Cobweb.

Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman? Peas. Peas-blossom.

Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire of you more acquaintance too.-Your name, I beseech you, sir?

Mus. Mustard-seed.

That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

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.

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, Bot. Good master Mustard-sced, I know your Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-And kill me too.

beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your The sun was not so true unto the day, house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my As he to me: Would he have stol'n away eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaint-From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon, ance, good master Mustard-seed.

Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.

The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity.

Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.

This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon
May through the centre creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with the Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou hast murder'd him ;
So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim.
Dem. So should the murder'd look; and so
should I,

[Exeunt. Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the inurderer, look as bright, as clear, SCENE II-Another part of the wood. Enter As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Oberon.

Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak'd;
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.

Enter Puck.

Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit?
What night-rule1 now about this haunted grove?

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,2 rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,❜
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
Forsook his scene, and enter'd in a brake:
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass's now I fixed on his head;
Anon, his Thisbe must be answered,

Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past

the bounds

Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men!
O! once tell true, tell true, even for my sake;
Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake,
And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch;'
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it: for with a doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd'
mood:

I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
Dem. And if I could, what should I get there.
fore?

Her. A privilege, never to see me more.

And forth my mimics comes: when they him spy, And from thy hated presence part I so:

As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,

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:

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;
Some, sleeves; some, hats : from yielders all things
catch.

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
For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now, in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I inake some stay,

[Lies down.

Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken

hold-When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena:
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes,
With your derision! none, of noble sort,4

Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,

With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Would so offend a virgin; and extort