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I am fear'd in field and town;
Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one.
Enter LYSANDER. Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius ? speak thou
Puck. Here, villain ; drawn and ready. Where art
thou? Lys. I will be with thee straight.
Puck. Follow me then To plainer ground. [Exit Lys. as following the voice.
Enter DEMETRIUS. Dem. Lysander! speak again. Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled ? Speak. In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy
Dem. Yea; art thou there?
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
[Lies down. For if but once thou show me thy grey light, I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.
Re-enter Puck and DEMETRIUS.
Puck. Come hither; I am here.
[Lies down and sleeps.
Abate thy hours : shine, comforts, from the east; That I may back to Athens, by day-light,
From these, that my poor company detest:And, sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, , Steal me a while from mine own company.
[Sleeps. Puck. Yet but three ? Come one more; Two of both kinds make up four. Here she comes, curst and sad :1
Cupid is a knavish lad,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;
My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me, till the break of day. Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!
To your eye,
[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER's eye.
In the sight
Jack shall have Jill;
Nought shall go ill;
well. [Erit Puck.-DEM. Hel &c. sleep.
SCENE I.-The same.
Enter TITANJA and Bottom, Fairies attending ; OBE
RON behind unseen.
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.-Where's monsieur Cobweb?
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 over-flown with a honey-bag, signior.Where's monsieur Mustard seed?
Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.
Must. What's your will ?
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. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some musick, my sweet
love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in musick: let us have the tongues and the bones.
Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st 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 bay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
Tita. 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.
Tita. 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. 0, how I love thee ! how I dote on thee!
OBERON advances. Enter Puck.