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.

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 Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. [dear, 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;

I

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,
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!

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, kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe: When thou wak'st, let love forbid Sleep his seat on thy eye-lid. So awake, when I am gone; For I must now to Oberon. Enter Demetrius and Helena, running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. [me thus. Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [so. [exit Dem. 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. [tears: How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;

[exit.

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. [wakes. 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 t
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshall 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?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you
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! [erit.
Lys. She sees not Hermia:-Hermia, sleep

thou there;

[do,

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! [erit.

Her. [starting.] Help me, Lysander help me!

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. [ertt.

SCENE 1. THE SAME.

The Queen of the 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 Button? 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 must 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 yourBelves: 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 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 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 moonlight.

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

Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; find out moonshine! find out moonshine. 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.

Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a

bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure, or to present the person of moonshine. 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 chink of a wall.

Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom?

Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and let him have some plaster, or some lome, or some rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or 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 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 swaggering 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
Quin. Odours, odours.
[sweet,'

Pyr. odours savours sweet:

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.' [arit. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! [aside; exit.

This. Must I speak now?

Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. (of hue,

This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white 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 I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.' [tire,

Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: why you mus. Not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your part at once, cues and all.-Pyramus, enter; your cue is past; it is, 'never tire.' 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!

[exeunt Clowns

Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, [through brier; Through bog, through bush, through brake, Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,

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.

Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.

[exit. 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 I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid.

The ousel-cock, so black of hue,

With orange-tawney bill,

The throstle with his note so true,.

The wren with little quill;

[sings.

The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
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?

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 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.

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. I am a spirit, of no common rate; The summer still doth tend upon my state, And I do love thee: herefore. go with me; I give thee fairis to attend on thes; 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. [seed! Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and MustardEnter four Fairies.

1 Fai. Ready.

2 Fai. And I.

8 Fai. And I.

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, 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.

Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaintance, good master Mustard-seed. [bower. Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my 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.
[exeunt.

SCENE II. ANOTHER PART OF THE WOOD.
Enter 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-rule 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, rude mechanicals,
That work for read upen Athenian stalls,
Were met together to hearse 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,
And forth my mimic comes: when they him spy,
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,

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 bast 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;

May through the centre creep, and so displease Her brother's noon-tide with the Antipodes. t cannot be, but thou hast murdered him ; So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murder'd look; and so should I,

Pierc'd through the heart with your stern uelty: 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?

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 doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; [mood:
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 there-
Her. A privilege, never to see me more. [fore?
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 :

I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear.
Puck. I go, I go; look, how I go;

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [ert
Obe. Flower of this purple die,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.-
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter Puck.

Puck. 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?
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;
And those things do best please me,
That befall preposterously.

Enter Lysander and Helena.

Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo in scorn?

Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, 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

perfect divine!

You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join, in souls, to mock me too?
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.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;porndal
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,
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:
And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love, and will do to my death.
Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.
My heart with her but, as guest-wise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helen is it home return'd,
There to remain.

Lys. Helen, it is not so.

Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.- [know, Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. Enter Hermia.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,

The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,

It pays the hearing double recompense :-
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
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?

Her. What love could press Lysander from my side?

Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him Fair Helena; who more engilds the night [bide, Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee know,

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.
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derision?

Is all the counsel, that we two have shar'd,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us,—O, and is all forgot?
All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our neelds created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,

Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double-cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem:.00
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor frien 1?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it;
Though I alone do feel the injury.

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,
(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,
And tender me, forsooth, affection;
But by your setting on, by your consent? mor
What though I be not so in grace as you, and
So hung upon with love, so fortunate ax
But miserable most, to love unlov'd?
This you should pity, rather than despise,
Her. I understand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do, perséver, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mows upon me, when I turn my back;
Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up:
This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners, DOW
You would not make me such an argument.
But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault
Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.

Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
Hel. O, excellent!

13

Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so..
Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she
entreat;

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.
Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Dem. Quick, come,

Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
Lys. Away, you Ethiop!
Dem. No, no, sir :-he will

[low;

Seem to break loose; take on, as you would folBut yet come not. You are a tame man, go! 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 o Out, loathed medicine! hated Her. Do you not jest?