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Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; 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 of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure, 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 chinks of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall. What

say you, Bottom?

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 your own; Do you?

Re-enter Quince.

translated.
Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art
Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass
[Exit.
of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not

Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hear I am not afraid.

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.

[Sings.

The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;

Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

Bot.

[Waking.

The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckoos gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dures not answer, nay;ー

for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a
bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he

stand forth. cry, cuckoo, never so?

Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours

sweet,

Quin. Odours, odours.
Pyr.Odours savours sweet:

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.

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 c'er play'd here! and love keep little company together now-a-days:

Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head.
This. O, As true as truest horse, that yet would
Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine :-
Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters! fly, masters! help! [Ere. 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 beardless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason 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:
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.

(3) The last words of the preceding speech, (4) Afraid. (5) The cuckoo, with his uniform note, which serve as a hint to him who is to speak next. (6) Joke. (7) Gooseberries,

To have my love to bed, and to arise;

And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,

To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyest

Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

1 Fai. Hail, mortal!

2 Fai. Hail!

3 Fai. Hail!

4 Fai. Hail!

I led then 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.
Obe. This falls out better than I could devise
But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do ?

Puck. I took him sleeping, that is Gnish'd ton

Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I And the Athenian woman by his side;

beseech, your worship's name.

Cob. Cobweb.

Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman? Peas. Peas-blossom.

Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire of you more acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you, sir?

Mus. Mustard-seed.

That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

قسم

Obe. 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 se Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thet

worse;

For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,

Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox- And kill me too.

beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your The sun was not so true unto the day, house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my As he to me: Would he have stol'n away eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaint-From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon,

ance, good master Mustard-seed.

Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my

bower.

The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity.

Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.

This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon
May through the centre creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with the Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou hast murder'd him;
So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim.
Dem. So should the murder'd look; and so
should I,

[Exeunt. Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty:
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,

SCENE II.-Another part of the wood. Enter As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Oberon.

Obe. 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-rule1 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,2 rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
The shallowest thick-skin 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,

Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
Dem. And if I could, what should I get there

An ass's nowl I fixed on his head;

fore?

Anon, his Thisbe must be answered,

Her. A privilege, never to see me more.

And forth my mimic comes: when they him spy, And from thy hated presence part I so:

Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that one man hold- When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.

ing troth,

You both are rivals, and love Hermia;

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

And now both rivals, to mock Helena:

Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,

And Helena of Athens look thou find:

To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes,

All fancy-sick1 she is, and pale of cheer2

With your derision! none, of noble sort,

With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Would so offend a virgin; and extort

By some illusion see thou bring her here;

A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.

I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear.

Puck. I go, I go; look, how I go;

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know:

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit. And here, with all good will, with all my heart,

Obe. Flower of this purple dye,

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.

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.

Re-enter Pиск

Puck. Captain of our fai y band,
Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by ne,
Pleading for a lover's fee;
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these monals be!

Obe. Stand aside the nose 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?

Scorn and derision never come in tears:

Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?

Hel. You do advance your cunning more and

more.

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 with her, but as guestwise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helena is it home return'd,
There to remain.

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 false sport in spite of ine.
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derision?

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
perfect, divine!

Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph,

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,
l'ann'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.
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,

(1) Love-sick. (2) Countenance.

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 berrics 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 crown'd 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:

(3) Heartily. (4) Degree. (5) Pay dearly for it. (6) Circles.

(7) Ingenious. (8) Needles.

Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out! Dem. No, sir; she shall not, though you take Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence! her part. Her. Do you not jest?

A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word. Her. Little again? nothing but low and little? Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?

Since night, you lov'd me; yet, since night you Take not her part: for if thou dost intend

Thou shalt aby it.

Lys.
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 Lys. and Dem.
Her. You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you:
Nay, go not back.
Hel.
I will not trust you, I;
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 knaverics 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 enterprise,
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.

Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child;

I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd

Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seck a placeto fight: That draws a sword on thee.

Hic 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

2

And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,

Dem.

Yea; art thou there? Puck. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood [Exeunt. Re-enter Lysander.

here.

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 gray light,
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.

Re-enter Puck and Demetrius.

Puck. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st

With league, whose date till death shall never end. Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place;

Shall seem a dream, and fruitless vision;

thou not?

Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot,

Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,

I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;

And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face.
Where art thou?

And then I will her charmed eve release

there,

Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways 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 Loves have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even to the eastern gate, all fiery red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Tarns into vellow gold his salt-green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
We may effect this business yet ere day.

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 cyc,
Steal me a while 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 led,

Thus to make poor females mad.

Enter Hermia.

Her. Never so weary, never so in wo, 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. (4) Cephalus, the paramour of Aurora.