Her. Never fo weary, never fo in Woe, Heav'ns fhield Lyfander, if they mean a Fray. [Lyes down. I'll apply to your Eye, gentle Lover, remedy. [Squeezing the Juice on Lylander's Eye. When thou wak'ft thou tak'ft True Delight in the Sight of former Lady's Eye, And the Country Proverb known, That every Man fhould take his own, In your waking fhall be known. Jack fhall have fill, naught fhall go ill, The Man fhall have his Mare again, and all be well. [E. Puck. A CT IV. [They fleep. SCENE I. Enter Queen of Fairies, Bottom, Fairies attending, and the Queen. Co King behind them. Ome, fit thee down upon this flowry Bed, And stick Musk Rofes in thy fleek-fmooth Head, And kifs thy fair large Ears, my gentle Joy. Bot. Where's Peafebloffom? Pease. Ready. Bot. Scratch my Head, Peafebloffom. Where's Monfieur Cobweb? Cob. Ready. Bot. Monfieur Cobweb, good Monfieur get your Weapons in your Hand, and kill me a red-hipt Humble-Bee on the Top of a Thistle, and good Monfieur bring me the Honey-bag. Do not fret your felf too much in the Action, Monfieur; and good Monfieur have a Care the Honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a Honey-bag, Signior. Where's Monfieur Mustardfeed? Muft. Ready. Bot. Bot. Give me your News, Monfieur Mustard; Pray you leave your Curtefie, good Monfieur. Muft. What's your Will? Bot. Nothing, good Monfieur, but to help Cavalero Cobweb to fcratch. I muft to the Barbers, Monfieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the Face. And I am fuch a tender Afs, if my Hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. Queen. What, wilt thou hear fome Mufick, my fweet Love? Bot. I have a reasonable good Ear in Mufick. Let us have the Tongs and the Bones. Mufick Tongs, Rural Mufick. Queen. Or fay, fweet Love, what thou defir'ft to eat. Bot. Truly a Peck of Provender; I would munch your good dry Oats. Methinks I have a great Defire 'to a Bottle of Hay: Good Hay, fweet Hay hath no Fellow. Queen. I have a venturous Fairy That fhall feek the Squirrels Hoard, And fetch thee new Nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful of dried Peafe. But I pray you let none of your People ftir me, I have an Expofition of Sleep come upon me. Queen. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my Arms; Fairies be gone, and be always away: So doth the Woodbine the fweet Hony-fuckle Gently entwift; the female Ivy fo Enrings the barky Fingers of the Elm. O how I love thee! how I dote on thee! Enter Puck. Ob. Welcome, good Robin; Her Dotage now I do begin to pity; Like Tears that did their own Difgrace bewail. May all to Athens back again repair, Be thou as thou waft wont to be; Hath fuch Force and bleffed Power. Now, my Titania wake you my fweet Queen. Queen. How came thefe Things to pass? Puck. When thou awak'ft, with thine own Fools Eyes peep: Ob. Sound Mufick; come my Queen, take Hand with me, And will to Morrow Midnight folemnly There fhall thefe Pairs of faithful Lovers be edded with Thefeus all in Jolity. Puck. Puck. Fair King attend and mark, Ob. Then my Queen in Silence fad, Swifter than the wandring Moon. Queen. Come my Lord, and in our Flight, Tell me how it came this Night, That I fleeping here was found, With thefe Mortals on the Ground. [Sleepers lye ftill. [Exeunt. [Wind Horns, Enter Thefeus, Egeus, Hippolita and all his Frain. For now our Obfervation is perform'd; And fince we have the vaward of the Day, My Love fhall hear the Mufick of my Hounds ; We will, fair Queen, up to the Mountain's Top, Of Hounds, and Eccho in conjunction. Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, Judge when you hear. But foft, what Nymphs are these? And this Lyfander, this Demetrius is, This Helena, old Nedar's Helena ; I wonder of this being here together, Thef Thef. No doubt they rofe up early, to obferve That Hermia fhould give Anfwer of her Choice? Thef. Go bid the Huntsmen wake them with their Horns. Thef. I pray you all stand up: I came with Hermia hither. Our Intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be Ege. Enough, enough, my Lord, you have enough; They would have ftoll'n away, they would, Demetrius, you You of your Wife, and me of my Confent; Of my Confent that the fhould be your Wife. Dem. My Lord, fair Helen told me of their Stealth, Of this their Purpose hither to the Wood, And I in Fury hither follow'd them Fair Helena in Fancy follow'd me: But, my good Lord, I wot not by what Power, But by fome Power it is, my Love To Hermia, melted as the Snow, Seems to me now as the Remembrance of an idle Gaude, And all the Faith, the Virtue of my Heart, |