The Dramatic Works of W. Shakespeare

For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now, in some slight measure, it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down.
Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken
quite,

And laid the love-juice on some true love's sight:
Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
Some true love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true.
Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that, one man hold-
ing troth,

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

If you were civil, and knew courtesy,
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?
If you were 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 enterprise,

Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes,
And Helena of Athens look thou find:
All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer,'
With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear:
By some illusion see thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear.
Puck. I go, I go; look how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit.
Obe. Flower of this purple die,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.-
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

With your derision! none, of noble sort,
Would so offend a virgin; and extort
A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius: be not so;
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 yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love, and will do to my death.

Re-enter PuCK.

Puck. Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee;

Shall we their fond pageant see?

O, what fools these mortals be!

Obe. Stand aside the noise they make,
Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once, woo one;
That must needs be sport alone;
And those things do best please me,
That befal preposterously.

Enter LYSANDER and HELENA.

Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo

in scorn?

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph,
perfect, divine!

To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow,
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow,
When thou hold'st up thy hand: O let me kiss
This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!

Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me, for your merriment.

Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone.
My heart with her, but as guest-wise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helen is it home return'd,
There to remain.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function
takes,

The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
It pays the hearing double recompense:-
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
Mine ear,
I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press
to go?

Her. What love could press Lysander from my
side?

Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena: who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee
know,

The hate I bare 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 false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia: most ungrateful maid!
Have 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 hasty-footed time
For parting us,-0, and is all forgot?
All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial' gods,
Have with our neelds created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem:
So with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,

Due but to one, and crowned with one crest:
And will you rent 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 spurn 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 Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection;
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, perséver, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mows upon me when I turn my back;
Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up:
This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have 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, soon shall remedy.
Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
Hel. O excellent!

Sweet love!

Lys. Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out! Her. Do you not jest? Hel. Yes, 'sooth; and so do you. Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. Dem. I would, I had your bond; for, I perceive, A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word. Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?

Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Her. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate?

Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? • Wry faces.

Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? I am as fair now, as I was erewhile.

Since night, you lov'd me; yet, since night you left

me:

Why, then you left me-O, the gods forbid !-
In earnest, shall I say?
Lys.
Ay, by my life;
And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore, be out of hope, of question, doubt,
Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest,
That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

Her. O me! you juggler! you canker blossom!' You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And stol'n my love's heart from him?

Hel. Fine, i'faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you!

Her. Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the

game.

Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures, she hath urg'd her height
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.—
And are you grown so high in his esteem,
Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;
How low am I? I am not yet so low,
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentle-

men,

Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;"

I have no gift at all in shrewishness;

I am a right maid for my cowardice;

Let her not strike me: you, perhaps, may think, Because she's something lower than myself, That I can match her.

Her. Lower! hark, again! Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia,

Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you;
Save, that, in love unto Demetrius,

I told him of your stealth unto this wood:
He followed you; for love, I follow'd him:
But he hath chid me hence; and threaten'd me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further: Let me go:
You see how simple and how fond3 I am.

Her. Why, get you gone: Who is't that hinders

you?

Now, she holds me not; Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right, Or thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Dem. Follow? nay, I'll go with thee cheek by jole. [Exeunt Lrs. and DEM.

I will not trust you, I;

Her. You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you: Nay, go not back. Hel. Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray; My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit. Her. I am amaz'd, and know not what to say. [Exit, pursuing HELENA. Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistak'st, Or else commit'st thy knaveries wilfully.

Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me, I should know the man By the Athenian garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprize, That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes: And so far am I glad it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight: Hie, therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog, as black as Acheron; And lead these testy rivals so astray, As one come not within another's way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; And sometime rail thou like Demetrius; And from each other look thou lead them thus, Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, To take from thence all error, with his might, And make his eye-balls roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream, and fruitless vision; And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, With league, whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy; And then I will her charmed eye release From monster's view, and all things shall be peace. Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste; For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,

Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:
I with the Morning's Love' have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit Oв.

Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on; When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter heel'd than I: I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me.

Come, thou gentle day! [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. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not?

Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot, Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place; And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou?

Thou shalt

Puck.
Come hither; I am here.
Dem. Nay, then, thou mock'st me.
buy this dear,

If ever I thy face by daylight see:
Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.—
By day's approach look to be visited.

[Lies down and sleeps.
Enter HELENA.
Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
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 sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Sleeps. Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds makes up four. Here she comes, curst and sad:Cupid is a knavish lad,

Thus to make poor females mad.

Enter HERMIA.

Her. Never so weary, never so in woe,

Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers:

I can no further crawl, no further go;

My legs can keep no pace with my desires.

[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER's eye. The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be

When thou wak'st,

Thou tak'st

SCENE I.-The same.

ACT IV.

Cob. Ready.

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 your self too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not: I would be loath to have you overflown with a honeybag, signior.-Where's monsieur Mustard-seed? Must. Ready.

Bot. Give me your nief, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Must. What's your will?

Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero 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 music, my

sweet love?

Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones.

Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your dry good oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay; 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, begone, and be all ways away.

[Exeunt Fairies. So doth the woodbine, the sweet honeysuckle, Gently entwist, the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee!

well.

[Exit PUCK.-DEM., HEL., &c., sleep.

For meeting her of late, behind the wood,
Seeking sweet savors for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her:
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
For she his hairy temples then had rounded

And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flowrets' eyes,
Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had, at my pleasure, taunted her,
And she, in mild terms, begg'd my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
From off the head of this Athenian swain;
May all to Athens back again repair;
That he awaking when the others do,
And think no more of this night's accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

But first I will release the fairy queen.

Be, as thou wast wont to be;

[Touching her eyes with an herb. See, as thou wast wont to see: Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. Hath such force and blessed power. Methought, I was enamor'd of an ass. Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Obe. There lies your love.

Tita.

How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now! Titania, music call; and strike more dead Obe. Silence, a while.-Robin, take off this head. Than common sleep, of all these five the sense.

Tita. Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

Obe. Sound, music. [Still music.] Come, my
queen, take hands with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity;
And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly,
Dance in duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair posterity:
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark;
I do hear the morning lark.

Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.

Tita. Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,

That I sleeping here was found,
With these mortals, on the ground. [Exeunt.
[Horns sound within. |
Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train.
The. Go, one of you, find out the forester;—
For now our observation is perform'd;
And since we have the vaward' of the day,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.-
Uncouple in the western valley; go:-
Despatch, I say, and find the forester.-
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top,
And mark the musical confusion

Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once,
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear
Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:

Judge, when you hear.-But, soft; what nymphs

are these?

Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep:
And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena.
I wonder of their being here together.

The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.-
But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Ege. It is, my lord.

The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their
horns.

Horns and shouts within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER,
HERMIA, and HELENA, wake and start up.
The. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is
past;
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
Lys. Pardon, my lord.

The.

[He and the rest kneel to THESEUS.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you are two rival enemies;
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy,
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half 'sleep, half waking: But as yet, I swear
I cannot truly say how I came here:
But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,-
And now I do bethink me, so it is,)
I came with Hermia hither: our intent

Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of the Athenian law.
Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have
enough:

I beg the law, the law, upon his head.-
They would have stol'n away, they would, Deme-

trius,

Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;
Fair Helena in fancy following me.

| But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
(But by some power it is,) my love to Hermia,
Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gawd,
Which in my childhood I did dote upon:
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia:
But, like in sickness, did I loath this food:
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now do I wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.-
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple, by and by with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.-
Away, with us, to Athens: Three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.—
Come, Hippolyta.

[Exeunt THE., HIP., EG E., and train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable,

Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.
Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye,
When every thing seems double.

Hel.
So methinks:
And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem.
It seems to me,
That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think,
The duke was here, and bid us follow him?
Her. Yea; and my father.
Hel.
And Hippolyta.
Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.
Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow
him;
And, by the way, let us recount our dreams.

[Exeunt

As they go out, BOTTOм awakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, Most fair Pyramus.-Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life! stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream,-past the wit of man to say what dream it was: Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was-there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had,-But man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I

dream it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of the play, before the duke! Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her [Exeunt.

death.

SCENE II.-Athens. A Room in Quince's House.
Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING.
come home yet?
Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he

8 Love.

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