A Midsummer Night's Dream

 

By

 

William Shakespeare

 


CONTENTS:

 

ACT I 3

SCENE I. Athens. The palace of THESEUS. 3

SCENE II. Athens. QUINCE'S house. 13

ACT II 18

SCENE I. A wood near Athens. 18

SCENE II. Another part of the wood. 27

ACT III 33

SCENE I. The wood. TITANIA lying asleep. 33

SCENE II. Another part of the wood. 43

ACT IV.. 63

SCENE I. The same. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA lying asleep. 63

SCENE II. Athens. QUINCE'S house. 72

ACT V.. 75

SCENE I. Athens. The palace of THESEUS. 75

 


ACT I

SCENE I. Athens. The palace of THESEUS.

 

    Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and Attendants

 

THESEUS

 

    Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour

    Draws on apace; four happy days bring in

    Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow

    This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,

    Like to a step-dame or a dowager

    Long withering out a young man revenue.

 

HIPPOLYTA

 

    Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;

    Four nights will quickly dream away the time;

    And then the moon, like to a silver bow

    New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night

    Of our solemnities.

 

THESEUS

 

    Go, Philostrate,

    Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;

    Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;

    Turn melancholy forth to funerals;

    The pale companion is not for our pomp.

 

    Exit PHILOSTRATE

    Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,

    And won thy love, doing thee injuries;

    But I will wed thee in another key,

    With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.

 

    Enter EGEUS, HERMIA, LYSANDER, and DEMETRIUS

 

EGEUS

 

    Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!

 

THESEUS

 

    Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?

 

EGEUS

 

    Full of vexation come I, with complaint

    Against my child, my daughter Hermia.

    Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord,

    This man hath my consent to marry her.

    Stand forth, Lysander: and my gracious duke,

    This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child;

    Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,

    And interchanged love-tokens with my child:

    Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,

    With feigning voice verses of feigning love,

    And stolen the impression of her fantasy

    With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,

    Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats, messengers

    Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth:

    With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart,

    Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,

    To stubborn harshness: and, my gracious duke,

    Be it so she; will not here before your grace

    Consent to marry with Demetrius,

    I beg the ancient privilege of Athens,

    As she is mine, I may dispose of her:

    Which shall be either to this gentleman

    Or to her death, according to our law

    Immediately provided in that case.

 

THESEUS

 

    What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid:

    To you your father should be as a god;

    One that composed your beauties, yea, and one

    To whom you are but as a form in wax

    By him imprinted and within his power

    To leave the figure or disfigure it.

    Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.

 

HERMIA

 

    So is Lysander.

 

THESEUS

 

    In himself he is;

    But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,

    The other must be held the worthier.

 

HERMIA

 

    I would my father look'd but with my eyes.

 

THESEUS

 

    Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.

 

HERMIA

 

    I do entreat your grace to pardon me.

    I know not by what power I am made bold,

    Nor how it may concern my modesty,

    In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;

    But I beseech your grace that I may know

    The worst that may befall me in this case,

    If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

 

THESEUS

 

    Either to die the death or to abjure

    For ever the society of men.

    Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;

    Know of your youth, examine well your blood,

    Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,

    You can endure the livery of a nun,

    For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,

    To live a barren sister all your life,

    Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.

    Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood,

    To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;

    But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,

    Than that which withering on the virgin thorn

    Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.

 

HERMIA

 

    So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,

    Ere I will my virgin patent up

    Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke

    My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

 

THESEUS

 

    Take time to pause; and, by the nest new moon--

    The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,

    For everlasting bond of fellowship--

    Upon that day either prepare to die

    For disobedience to your father's will,

    Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;

    Or on Diana's altar to protest

    For aye austerity and single life.

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield

    Thy crazed title to my certain right.

 

LYSANDER

 

    You have her father's love, Demetrius;

    Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

 

EGEUS

 

    Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love,

    And what is mine my love shall render him.

    And she is mine, and all my right of her

    I do estate unto Demetrius.

 

LYSANDER

 

    I am, my lord, as well derived as he,

    As well possess'd; my love is more than his;

    My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,

    If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

    And, which is more than all these boasts can be,

    I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:

    Why should not I then prosecute my right?

    Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,

    Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,

    And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,

    Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,

    Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

 

THESEUS

 

    I must confess that I have heard so much,

    And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;

    But, being over-full of self-affairs,

    My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;

    And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,

    I have some private schooling for you both.

    For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself

    To fit your fancies to your father's will;

    Or else the law of Athens yields you up--

    Which by no means we may extenuate--

    To death, or to a vow of single life.

    Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?

    Demetrius and Egeus, go along:

    I must employ you in some business

    Against our nuptial and confer with you

    Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

 

EGEUS

 

    With duty and desire we follow you.

 

    Exeunt all but LYSANDER and HERMIA

 

LYSANDER

 

    How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?

    How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

 

HERMIA

 

    Belike for want of rain, which I could well

    Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

 

LYSANDER

 

    Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,

    Could ever hear by tale or history,

    The course of true love never did run smooth;

    But, either it was different in blood,--

 

HERMIA

 

    O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low.

 

LYSANDER

 

    Or else misgraffed in respect of years,--

 

HERMIA

 

    O spite! too old to be engaged to young.

 

LYSANDER

 

    Or else it stood upon the choice of friends,--

 

HERMIA

 

    O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

 

LYSANDER

 

    Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,

    War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,

    Making it momentany as a sound,

    Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;

    Brief as the lightning in the collied night,

    That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,

    And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'

    The jaws of darkness do devour it up:

    So quick bright things come to confusion.

 

HERMIA

 

    If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,

    It stands as an edict in destiny:

    Then let us teach our trial patience,

    Because it is a customary cross,

    As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,

    Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.

 

LYSANDER

 

    A good persuasion: therefore, hear me, Hermia.

    I have a widow aunt, a dowager

    Of great revenue, and she hath no child:

    From Athens is her house remote seven leagues;

    And she respects me as her only son.

    There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;

    And to that place the sharp Athenian law

    Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,

    Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;

    And in the wood, a league without the town,

    Where I did meet thee once with Helena,

    To do observance to a morn of May,

    There will I stay for thee.

 

HERMIA

 

    My good Lysander!

    I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,

    By his best arrow with the golden head,

    By the simplicity of Venus' doves,

    By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,

    And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen,

    When the false Troyan under sail was seen,

    By all the vows that ever men have broke,

    In number more than ever women spoke,

    In that same place thou hast appointed me,

    To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

 

LYSANDER

 

    Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.

 

    Enter HELENA

 

HERMIA

 

    God speed fair Helena! whither away?

 

HELENA

 

    Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.

    Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!

    Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air

    More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,

    When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.

    Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,

    Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;

    My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,

    My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.

    Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,

    The rest I'd give to be to you translated.

    O, teach me how you look, and with what art

    You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

 

HERMIA

 

    I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.

 

HELENA

 

    O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

 

HERMIA

 

    I give him curses, yet he gives me love.

 

HELENA

 

    O that my prayers could such affection move!

 

HERMIA

 

    The more I hate, the more he follows me.

 

HELENA

 

    The more I love, the more he hateth me.

 

HERMIA

 

    His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.

 

HELENA

 

    None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine!

 

HERMIA

 

    Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;

    Lysander and myself will fly this place.

    Before the time I did Lysander see,

    Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me:

    O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,

    That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!

 

LYSANDER

 

    Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:

    To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold

    Her silver visage in the watery glass,

    Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,

    A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,

    Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.

 

HERMIA

 

    And in the wood, where often you and I

    Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,

    Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,

    There my Lysander and myself shall meet;

    And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,

    To seek new friends and stranger companies.

    Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us;

    And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!

    Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight

    From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.

 

LYSANDER

 

    I will, my Hermia.

 

    Exit HERMIA

    Helena, adieu:

    As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!

 

    Exit

 

HELENA

 

    How happy some o'er other some can be!

    Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.

    But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;

    He will not know what all but he do know:

    And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,

    So I, admiring of his qualities:

    Things base and vile, folding no quantity,

    Love can transpose to form and dignity:

    Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;

    And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:

    Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste;

    Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste:

    And therefore is Love said to be a child,

    Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.

    As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,

    So the boy Love is perjured every where:

    For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,

    He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;

    And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,

    So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt.

    I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:

    Then to the wood will he to-morrow night

    Pursue her; and for this intelligence

    If I have thanks, it is a dear expense:

    But herein mean I to enrich my pain,

    To have his sight thither and back again.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE II. Athens. QUINCE'S house.

 

    Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING

 

QUINCE

 

    Is all our company here?

 

BOTTOM

 

    You were best to call them generally, man by man,

    according to the scrip.

 

QUINCE

 

    Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is

    thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our

    interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his

    wedding-day at night.

 

BOTTOM

 

    First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats

    on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow

    to a point.

 

QUINCE

 

    Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and

    most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

 

BOTTOM

 

    A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a

    merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your

    actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.

 

QUINCE

 

    Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.

 

BOTTOM

 

    Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.

 

QUINCE

 

    You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

 

BOTTOM

 

    What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant?

 

QUINCE

 

    A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.

 

BOTTOM

 

    That will ask some tears in the true performing of

    it: if I do it, let the audience look to their

    eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some

    measure. To the rest: yet my chief humour is for a

    tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to

    tear a cat in, to make all split.

    The raging rocks

    And shivering shocks

    Shall break the locks

    Of prison gates;

    And Phibbus' car

    Shall shine from far

    And make and mar

    The foolish Fates.

    This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.

    This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is

    more condoling.

 

QUINCE

 

    Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.

 

FLUTE

 

    Here, Peter Quince.

 

QUINCE

 

    Flute, you must take Thisby on you.

 

FLUTE

 

    What is Thisby? a wandering knight?

 

QUINCE

 

    It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

 

FLUTE

 

    Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

 

QUINCE

 

    That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and

    you may speak as small as you will.

 

BOTTOM

 

    An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too, I'll

    speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne,

    Thisne;' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear,

    and lady dear!'

 

QUINCE

 

    No, no; you must play Pyramus: and, Flute, you Thisby.

 

BOTTOM

 

    Well, proceed.

 

QUINCE

 

    Robin Starveling, the tailor.

 

STARVELING

 

    Here, Peter Quince.

 

QUINCE

 

    Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.

    Tom Snout, the tinker.

 

SNOUT

 

    Here, Peter Quince.

 

QUINCE

 

    You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father:

    Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I

    hope, here is a play fitted.

 

SNUG

 

    Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it

    be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

 

QUINCE

 

    You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

 

BOTTOM

 

    Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will

    do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar,

    that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again,

    let him roar again.'

 

QUINCE

 

    An you should do it too terribly, you would fright

    the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek;

    and that were enough to hang us all.

 

ALL

 

    That would hang us, every mother's son.

 

BOTTOM

 

    I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the

    ladies out of their wits, they would have no more

    discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my

    voice so that I will roar you as gently as any

    sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any

    nightingale.

 

QUINCE

 

    You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a

    sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a

    summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man:

    therefore you must needs play Pyramus.

 

BOTTOM

 

    Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best

    to play it in?

 

QUINCE

 

    Why, what you will.

 

BOTTOM

 

    I will discharge it in either your straw-colour

    beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain

    beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your

    perfect yellow.

 

QUINCE

 

    Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and

    then you will play bare-faced. But, masters, here

    are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request

    you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night;

    and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the

    town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if

    we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with

    company, and our devices known. In the meantime I

    will draw a bill of properties, such as our play

    wants. I pray you, fail me not.

 

BOTTOM

 

    We will meet; and there we may rehearse most

    obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu.

 

QUINCE

 

    At the duke's oak we meet.

 

BOTTOM

 

    Enough; hold or cut bow-strings.

 

    Exeunt


ACT II

SCENE I. A wood near Athens.

 

    Enter, from opposite sides, a Fairy, and PUCK

 

PUCK

 

    How now, spirit! whither wander you?

 

Fairy

 

    Over hill, over dale,

    Thorough bush, thorough brier,

    Over park, over pale,

    Thorough flood, thorough fire,

    I do wander everywhere,

    Swifter than the moon's sphere;

    And I serve the fairy queen,

    To dew her orbs upon the green.

    The cowslips tall her pensioners be:

    In their gold coats spots you see;

    Those be rubies, fairy favours,

    In those freckles live their savours:

    I must go seek some dewdrops here

    And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

    Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:

    Our queen and all our elves come here anon.

 

PUCK

 

    The king doth keep his revels here to-night:

    Take heed the queen come not within his sight;

    For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,

    Because that she as her attendant hath

    A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;

    She never had so sweet a changeling;

    And jealous Oberon would have the child

    Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;

    But she perforce withholds the loved boy,

    Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy:

    And now they never meet in grove or green,

    By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,

    But, they do square, that all their elves for fear

    Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.

 

Fairy

 

    Either I mistake your shape and making quite,

    Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite

    Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he

    That frights the maidens of the villagery;

    Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern

    And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;

    And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;

    Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?

    Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,

    You do their work, and they shall have good luck:

    Are not you he?

 

PUCK

 

    Thou speak'st aright;

    I am that merry wanderer of the night.

    I jest to Oberon and make him smile

    When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,

    Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:

    And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,

    In very likeness of a roasted crab,

    And when she drinks, against her lips I bob

    And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.

    The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,

    Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;

    Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,

    And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;

    And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,

    And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear

    A merrier hour was never wasted there.

    But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

 

Fairy

 

    And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!

 

    Enter, from one side, OBERON, with his train; from the other, TITANIA, with hers

 

OBERON

 

    Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.

 

TITANIA

 

    What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence:

    I have forsworn his bed and company.

 

OBERON

 

    Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?

 

TITANIA

 

    Then I must be thy lady: but I know

    When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,

    And in the shape of Corin sat all day,

    Playing on pipes of corn and versing love

    To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,

    Come from the farthest Steppe of India?

    But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,

    Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,

    To Theseus must be wedded, and you come

    To give their bed joy and prosperity.

 

OBERON

 

    How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,

    Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,

    Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?

    Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night

    From Perigenia, whom he ravished?

    And make him with fair AEgle break his faith,

    With Ariadne and Antiopa?

 

TITANIA

 

    These are the forgeries of jealousy:

    And never, since the middle summer's spring,

    Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,

    By paved fountain or by rushy brook,

    Or in the beached margent of the sea,

    To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,

    But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.

    Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,

    As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea

    Contagious fogs; which falling in the land

    Have every pelting river made so proud

    That they have overborne their continents:

    The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,

    The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn

    Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;

    The fold stands empty in the drowned field,

    And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;

    The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,

    And the quaint mazes in the wanton green

    For lack of tread are undistinguishable:

    The human mortals want their winter here;

    No night is now with hymn or carol blest:

    Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,

    Pale in her anger, washes all the air,

    That rheumatic diseases do abound:

    And thorough this distemperature we see

    The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts

    Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,

    And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown

    An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds

    Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,

    The childing autumn, angry winter, change

    Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,

    By their increase, now knows not which is which:

    And this same progeny of evils comes

    From our debate, from our dissension;

    We are their parents and original.

 

OBERON

 

    Do you amend it then; it lies in you:

    Why should Titania cross her Oberon?

    I do but beg a little changeling boy,

    To be my henchman.

 

TITANIA

 

    Set your heart at rest:

    The fairy land buys not the child of me.

    His mother was a votaress of my order:

    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,--

    Would imitate, and sail upon the land,

    To fetch me trifles, and return again,

    As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.

    But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;

    And for her sake do I rear up her boy,

    And for her sake I will not part with him.

 

OBERON

 

    How long within this wood intend you stay?

 

TITANIA

 

    Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.

    If you will patiently dance in our round

    And see our moonlight revels, go with us;

    If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.

 

OBERON

 

    Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

 

TITANIA

 

    Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!

    We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.

 

    Exit TITANIA with her train

 

OBERON

 

    Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove

    Till I torment thee for this injury.

    My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest

    Since once I sat upon a promontory,

    And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back

    Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath

    That the rude sea grew civil at her song

    And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,

    To hear the sea-maid's music.

 

PUCK

 

    I remember.

 

OBERON

 

    That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,

    Flying between the cold moon and the earth,

    Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took

    At a fair vestal throned by the west,

    And loosed 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 beams of the watery moon,

    And the imperial votaress passed on,

    In maiden meditation, fancy-free.

    Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:

    It fell upon a little western flower,

    Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,

    And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

    Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once:

    The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid

    Will make or man or woman madly dote

    Upon the next live creature that it sees.

    Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again

    Ere the leviathan can swim a league.

 

PUCK

 

    I'll put a girdle round about the earth

    In forty minutes.

 

    Exit

 

OBERON

 

    Having once this juice,

    I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,

    And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.

    The next thing then she waking looks upon,

    Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,

    On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,

    She shall pursue it with the soul of love:

    And ere I take this charm from off her sight,

    As I can take it with another herb,

    I'll make her render up her page to me.

    But who comes here? I am invisible;

    And I will overhear their conference.

 

    Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA, following him

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.

    Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?

    The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.

    Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood;

    And here am I, and wode within this wood,

    Because I cannot meet my Hermia.

    Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.

 

HELENA

 

    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.

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    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?

 

HELENA

 

    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?

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;

    For I am sick when I do look on thee.

 

HELENA

 

    And I am sick when I look not on you.

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    You do impeach your modesty too much,

    To leave the city and commit yourself

    Into the hands of one that loves you not;

    To trust the opportunity of night

    And the ill counsel of a desert place

    With the rich worth of your virginity.

 

HELENA

 

    Your virtue is my privilege: for that

    It is not night when I do see your face,

    Therefore I think I am not in the night;

    Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,

    For you in my respect are all the world:

    Then how can it be said I am alone,

    When all the world is here to look on me?

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,

    And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.

 

HELENA

 

    The wildest hath not such a heart as you.

    Run when you will, the story shall be changed:

    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.

 

DEMETRIUS

 

    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.

 

HELENA

 

    Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,

    You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!

    Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex:

    We cannot fight for love, as men may do;

    We should be wood and were not made to woo.

 

    Exit DEMETRIUS

    I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,

    To die upon the hand I love so well.

 

    Exit

 

OBERON

 

    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.

 

PUCK

 

    Ay, there it is.

 

OBERON

 

    I pray thee, give it me.

    I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,

    Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

    Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,

    With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:

    There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,

    Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;

    And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,

    Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:

    And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,

    And make her full of hateful fantasies.

    Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:

    A sweet Athenian lady is in love

    With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;

    But do it when the next thing he espies

    May be the lady: thou shalt know the man

    By the Athenian garments he hath on.

    Effect it with some care, that he may prove

    More fond on her than she upon her love:

    And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

 

PUCK

 

    Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. Another part of the wood.

 

    Enter TITANIA, with her train

 

TITANIA

 

    Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;

    Then, for the third part of a minute, hence;

    Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,

    Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,

    To make my small elves coats, and some keep back

    The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders

    At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;

    Then to your offices and let me rest.

 

    The Fairies sing

    You spotted snakes with double tongue,

    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;

    Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,

    Come not near our fairy queen.

    Philomel, with melody

    Sing in our sweet lullaby;

    Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:

    Never harm,

    Nor spell nor charm,

    Come our lovely lady nigh;

    So, good night, with lullaby.

    Weaving spiders, come not here;

    Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!

    Beetles black, approach not near;

    Worm nor snail, do no offence.

    Philomel, with melody, & c.

 

Fairy

 

    Hence, away! now all is well:

    One aloof stand sentinel.

 

    Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps

 

    Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids

 

OBERON

 

    What thou seest when thou dost wake,

    Do it for thy true-love take,

    Love and languish for his sake:

    Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,

    Pard, or boar with bristled hair,

    In thy eye that shall appear

    When thou wakest, it is thy dear:

    Wake when some vile thing is near.

 

    Exit

 

    Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA

 

LYSANDER

 

    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.

 

HERMIA

 

    Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed;

    For I upon this bank will rest my head.

 

LYSANDER

 

    One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;

    One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.

 

HERMIA

 

    Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,

    Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

 

LYSANDER

 

    O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!

    Love takes the meaning in love's conference.

    I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit

    So that but one heart we can make of it;

    Two bosoms interchained with an oath;

    So then two bosoms and a single troth.

    Then by your side no bed-room me deny;

    For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.