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1 Fair. Hail Mortal, Hail.
2 Fair. Hail.
3 Fair. Hail.

Bot. I cry your Worship's Mercy heartily, I beseech your
Worship's Name.

Cob. Cobweb. · Bot. I shall desire of you more Acquaintance, good Master Cobveb; if I cut my Finger, I shall make bold with you. Your Name, honest Gentleman?

Peas. Peafeblossom.

Bot. I pray you commend me to Mistress Squash your Mother, and to Master Peasecod your Father.

Good Master
Peaseblofsom, I shall defire of you more Acquaintance too.
Your Name, I beseech, you, Sir?

Muf. Mustardfeed.

Good Master Mustard seed, I know your Patience 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 e'er 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 the weeps, weep every little Flower,
Lamenting some enforced Chastity.
Tye up my Lover's Tongue, bring him filently. [Exeunt,

Enter King of Fairies folus.
Ob. 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?

Pack. My Mistress with a Monster is in love.
Near to her close and confecrated Bower,

the was in her dull and fleeping 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 shallowest chick Skin of that barren fort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their Sport


Forsook his Scene, and entred in a Brake,
When I did him at this Advantage take,
An Ass's Nole I fixed on his Head;
Anon his Thisby must be answered,
And forth my Mimick comes; When they him spy,
As wild Geele, that the creeping Fowler eye,
Or russet-pated Choughs, many in fort,
Rising and Kawing at the Gun's report,
Sever themselves, and madly sweep the Sky;
So at his fight, 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, loft with their Fears thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong.
For Briars and Thorns at their Apparel snatch,
Some Sleeves, fome 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 to pass)
Titania wak’d, and straightway lov'd an Ass.

Ob. This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian 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 fide,
That when he wak’d, 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 given 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 stollen 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 displease
Her Brother's Noon-tide, with th’Antipodes.


Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. (Awaking.) Helen, Goddess, Nymph, perfe&,

To whit, my Lov?, shall I compare thine Eyne?
Crystal is muddy; O how ripe in show,
Thy Lips, those killing Cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congeakd white, high Taurus Snow,
Fann'd win the Eastern Wind, turns to a Crows
When thou hold'st up thy hand. O let me kiss
This Princess of pure white, this seal of Bliss.

Hel. O Spight, O Hell, I see you are all bent
To set against me, for your Merriment:
If you were civil, and knew Courtesie,
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?

you are 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,
And now both Rivals to mock Helena.
A trim Exploit, a manly Enterprize,
To conjure Tears up in a poor Maid's Eyes,
With your Derision: None of Nobler fort
Would so offend a Virgin, and extort
A poor Soul's Patience, all to make you sport.

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not fog
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 your's 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 to her, but as Guest-wise sojourn'd,
And now to Helen it is home return'd,
There to remain.

Lys. It is not so.
Dem. Disparage not the Faith thou dost not know,


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Lest to thy peril thou abide it dear.
Look where thy Love comes, yonder is thy Dear.

Enter Hermia.
Her. Dark Night, that from the Eye his Fun&ion takes,
The Ear more quick of Apprehension makes.
Wherein it doth impair the seeing Sense,
It pays the Hearing double recompence.
Thou art not by mine Eye, Lysander, found,
Mine Ear, I thank it, brought me to that Sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me fo?

Lyf. Why should he stay, whom Love doth press to go?
Her. What Love could press Lyfander from my side

Lys. Lysander's Love, that would not let him bide;
Fair Helena, who more engilds the Night,
Than all yon fiery O's and Eyes of Lighr.
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 falle Sport in spight of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful Maid,

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 hafty footed Time,
For parting us: O! and is all forgot?
All School-days Friendship, Childhoods Innocence?
We, Hermia, like two Artificial gods,
Have with our Needles, created both one Flower,
Both on one Sampler, fitting on one Cushion;
Both warbling of one Song, both in one Key;
Asifour Hands, our Sides, Voices, and Minds
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double Cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an Union in partition;

Two lovely Berries molded on one Stem,
So with two seeming Bodies, but one Heart,
Two of the first Life, Coats of Heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one Crest.



And will you rend our ancient Love asunder,
To join with Men in scorning your poor Friend?
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 fpurn 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 Lyfander
Deny your Love, so rich within his Soul,
And tender me, forsooth, Affe&ion,
But by your setting on, by your Consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with Love, so fortunate?
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, persevere, counterfeit fad Looks,
Make Mouths upon me when I turn my Back,
Wink each at other, hold the sweet Jest up:
This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.


any Pity, Grace, or Manners, You would not make me such an Argument: But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine own fault, Which Death or Absence foon shall remedy.

Lyf. Stay, gentle Helena, hear my Excuse;
My Love, my Soul, fair Helena.

Hel. O Excellent !
Her. Sweet, do not scorn her fo.
Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lyf. Thou canst compel no more than the entreat.
Thy Threats have no more strength than her weak Praise.
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.


If you

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