But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

Helena. 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 Demetrius and Helena.

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 whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine;
There sleeps Titania, some time of the night,
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamel❜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.

SCENE III.

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 rear-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.

Enter OBERON.

Oberon. What thou seest when thou dost wake, [Squeezes the flower on Titania's eye-lids.

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 wak'st, it is thy dear.
Wake when some vile thing is near.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Titania. 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!

Titania. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman : Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricots, and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed, and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes : Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

SCENE II.

Helena. 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,
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,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes
With your derision! None of noble sort
Would so offend a virgin, and extort

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

Hermia. 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?

Helena. 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?

In 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,-O! and is all forgot?

Р

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 up 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
Though I alone do feel the injury.

for it,

Enter HELENA.

Helena. 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 a while from mine own company.

Hermia. 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