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When thou wakest,

Thou takest

True delight

In the sight

Of thy former lady's eye:

And the country proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
In your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill;

Naught shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be

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Tit. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,1

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Bot. Where's Peas-blossom?

Peas. Ready.

I Stroke.

Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.-Where's monsieur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

Bot. Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honeybag, signior.-Where's monsieur Mustard-seed ?

Mus. Ready.

Bot. Give me your neif,1 monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.

Mus. What's your will?

Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Tit. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?

Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music : let us have the tongs and the bones.

Tit. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Fist.

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Tit. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Tit. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.

So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist;-the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee!

[they slee

OBERON advances. Enter PUCK.

Obe. Welcome, good Robin.

sweet sight?

Seest thou this

Her dotage now I do begin to pity:
For meeting her of late, behind the wood,
Seeking sweet savors 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;
And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes,
Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail.
When had, at my pleasure, taunted her,
And she, in mild terms, begg'd my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.

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