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Queen. 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.
Queen. 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; 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 Aowers doft Neep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Mothand Mustard seed!
Enter four fairies. i Fai. Ready 2 Fai, And Í.
Fai. And I. 4
Fai. And I, where shall we go?
Queen. 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,
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, hail !
2 Fai. Hail !
3 Fai. Hail !
Bot. I cry your worship’s mercy, heartily; I beseech, your worship's name.
Bot. I shall defire of you more acquaintance, good master Cobweb; if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with name, honest gentleman?
Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash your mother, and to master Peasecod your father. Good master Peaseblossom, I shall desire of you more acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech
Bot. Good master Mustardseed, I know your parentage well : that same cowardly, giant-like, ox-beef hath devour'd many a gentleman of your house. I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire more of your acquaintance, good master Mustardfeed.
Queen. Come, wait upon him, lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye,
And when she weeps, weeps ev'ry little flower
Lamenting some enforced chastity,
Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. [Exeunt.
Enter king of fairies folus. Ob. Wonder if Titania be awak'd:
Then, what it was that next came in her eye, Which she must dote on in extremity.
Here comes my messenger: how now, mad sprite!
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 bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
The shallow'st thick-skull 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 nole I fixed on his head;
Anon, his Thisoy must be answered,
And forth my mimick comes: when they him spy,
As wild geesé that the creeping fowler eye,
Or ruffet-pated choughs, many in fort,
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 briars and thorns at their apparel snatch,
Some sleeves, some hats; from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there :
When in that moment (so it came pass)
Titania wak’d, and straightway lov'd an ass.
06. This falls out better than I could devise. But hast thou yet lech'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;
That, when he wakes, of force she must be ey’d.
Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
Ob. 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
fo? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse ;
For thou, I fear, hast giv’n me cause to curse:
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day,
As he to me. Would he have stol'n away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon,
This whole earth may be bor’d, and that the moon
May through the center creep, and so disease
Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou hast murther'd him;
So should a murtherer look, so dread, fo grim.
Dem. So should the murther’d look, and so should I,
Pierc'd through the heart with your ftern cruelty :
Yet you the murtherer look as bright, and clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimm’ring sphere.
Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
Dem. l'ad rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Hast thou sain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men!
O, once tell true, and even for my fake;
Durft 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 ftung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris’d mood;
I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood,
Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.
Her. I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well.
Dem. And if I could, what should
Her. A privilege, never to see me more;
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he's dead or no.
Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein;
Here therefore for a while I will remain :
So forrow's heaviness doth heavier grow
For debt, that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe,
Which now in some Night measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay.
06. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And lay'd thy love-juice on some true love's sight:
Of thy misprision must, perforce, ensue
Some true love turn’d false, not a false turn'd true.
Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; for one man holding troth
A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
0b. About the wood go fwifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens fee thou find.
All fancy-fick she is, and pale of cheer,
With sighs of love that coft the fresh blood dear;
By fome illusion fee thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes against she doth appear.
Puck. I go, I go; look, master, how I go ;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
[Exit. 06. Flower of this purple dye, [Anoints Demetrius's eyes Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye! When his love he doth espy, Let her shine as gloriously