And waxen in their mirth, and neeze and swear were gone! - Tita. Set your heart at rest, The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a vot'ress of my order: 'Would that he And, in the spiced Indian air, by night, Full often hath she gossip'd by my side; And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, Marking the embarked traders on the flood; When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive, And grow big-bellied, with the wanton wind: Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait, Following (her womb, then rich with my young squire,) SCENE II. Enter OBERON, at one door, with his Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night And make him with fair Æglé break his faith, Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: 10 dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, Is, as in mockery, set: The spring, the summer, Obe. Do you amend it then: it lies in you: Would imitate; and sail upon the land, Obe. How long within this wood intend you stay? We shall chide down-right, if I longer stay. [Exeunt TITANIA and her train. Obe. Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this Obe. That very time I saw, (but thou could'st not,) Flying between the cold moon and the carth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took At a fair vestal, throned by the west; And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts: But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beans of the wat'ry moon ; And the imperial vot'ress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: Before, milk-white; now purple with love's wound,— Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once; Obe. But who comes here? I am invisible; Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him. Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant ; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you. Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth Tell you - I do not, nor I cannot love you? Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love, (And yet a place of high respect with me,) Than to be used as you use your dog? Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick, when I do look on thee. . Hel. And I am sick, when I look not on you. Hel. Your virtue is my privilege for that. Dem. I'll run from thee, and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd; Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger: Bootless speed! When cowardice pursues, and valour flies. Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fye, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do: We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. [Exeunt DEM. and HEL. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter PUCK. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer. I pray thee, give it me. I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove : Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA. Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; 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 dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Her. Lysander riddles very prettily: — Lys. Amen, Amen, to that fair prayer, say I; And then end life, when I end loyalty! Here is my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest! Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! [They sleep. Enter PUCK. Puck. Through the forest have I gone, And here the maiden, sleeping sound, All the power this charm doth owe: For I must now to Oberon. [Exit. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; For beasts that meet me, run away for fear: Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art, sake. [Waking. 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. Who will not change a raven for a dove? Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn? Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, But fare you well: perforce I must confess, I thought you lord of more true gentleness. [Exit. Lys. She sees not Hermia: :- Hermia, sleep thou there; And never may'st thou come Lysander near! Or, as the heresies, that men do leave, To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! ACT III. SCENE I. The same. Bot. Are we all met? of thorns and a lantern, and say, he comes to disThe Queen of Fairies figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. 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? 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 Bottom? 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 yourselves: 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 moon-light. Snug. Doth the moon shine that night we play our play? Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine. 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 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. 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. [Exit. 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. This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily white of hue, Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire, I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: Why you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you - Pyramus speak all your part at once, cues and all. enter; your cue is past; is, never tire. Re-enter Puck, and Воттом with an ass's head. This. O,-As true as truest horse, that yet woula 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 bog, through bush, through brake, through brier; 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. Re-enter SNOUT. Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee? Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head of vour own: Do you? Re-enter QUINCE. 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 ear I am not afraid. The ousel-cock, so black of hue, With orange-tawney bill, The throstle with his note so true, [Sings. Whose note full many a man doth mark, 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: 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 flowers dost sleep. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so, That thou shalt like an airy spirit go. Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed! Enter four Fairies. 1 Fai. Ready. Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, your mother, and to master Peas-cod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.― Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustard-seed. Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well that same cowardly, giant-like oxbeef 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. Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my Here comes my messenger. - How now, mad spirit? And forth my mimick comes: When they him spy, strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: atch. |