your lion, living; and we ought to look to it. Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell, he is not a lion.

As true as truest horse, that yet would never I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. [tire, Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: Why you must not Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: half his face must be seen through the lion's you speak all your part at once, cues* and neck; and he himself must speak through, say-all.-Pyramus enter; your cue is past; it is, ing thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or never tire. 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. It 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 bard 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 moonshine.

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 case

ment.

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. 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.

Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,-

Quin. Odours, odours.

Pyr. odours savours sweet:

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 [Aside.-Exit.

bere!

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 jurenal,† and eke most lovely Jew, + Young man.

* Thicket.

Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass head. This. O,-As true as truest horse, that get would never tire.

Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine:-Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are Pray, masters! fly, masters! help! [haunted. [Exeunt Clowns.

round,

Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a [through briar; Through bog, through bush, through brake, Sometime a horse I'll be, sometimes 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.t

Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery [Waking.

bed?

Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckoo‡ gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay;—

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; [me,
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.

little reason for that: And yet, to say the truth,
Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have
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 gleeký upon occasion.

Tita. Thou are 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.

Titu. Out of this wood do not desire to go;

The last words of the preceding speech, which serve

as a hint to him who is to speak next.

+ Afraid.

+ The Cuckoo with his uniform note.

Joke,

Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or | Near to her close and consecrated bower,

O! once tell true, tell true, even for my sake;
Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake,
And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave
touch!

Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'dt
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; [inood:
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

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

Her. A privilege, never to see me more.---
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
[Exit.
Dem. There is no following her in this fierce

vein :

[Lies down.

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing Your vows, to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.

Lys. I had no judgement, when to her I swore. Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.

Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! T

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, Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow, So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow When thou hold'st up thy hand: O let me kiss For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss! Which now, in some slight measure it will pay, Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent If for his tender here I make some stay. To set against me, for your merriment. If you were civil, and knew courtesy, Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mis-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,t Would so offend a virgin; and extort

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

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
Obe. About the wood go swifter than the
And Helena of Athens look thou find: [wind,
All fancy-sick; she is, and pale of cheers
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. 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

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.
Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle
breath.

Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. [none:
My heart with her but, as guest-wise, so-
journ'd;

And now to Helen is it home return'd,
There to remain.

Lys. Helen, it is not so.

Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. [know, Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

Enter HERMIA.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his func-
tion 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

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 fond"

am.

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

Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind?
Her. What, with Lysander?
Hel. With Demetrius.

Lys. Be not afraid : she shall not harm thee,
Helena.

Dem. No, Sir; she shall not, though you take
her part.

Hel. O, when she's angry, she is keen and
shrewd :

She was a vixen, when she went to school;
And, though she be but little, she is fierce.
Her. Little again? nothing but low and
little?-

Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.

Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf;

You minimus, of hind'ring knot grasst made;
You bead, you acorn.

Dem. You are too officious,

In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone; speak not of Helena;

Take not her part: for if thou dost intend‡
Never so little show of love to her,
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
Nay, go not back.

[you:

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
[Exit, pursuing HELENA.
Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mis-

say.

tak'st,

Or else commit'st thy knaveries wilfully.
Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mis-
took.

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.
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,¶
* Foolish.
Anciently knot-grass was believed to
prevent the growth of children. + Pretend. ◊ Happen.
Medicinal efficacy.
Go.

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;

[fast,
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here
and there,
[all,
Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits
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 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 OBERON.
Puck. Up and down, up and down;
I will lead them up and down:
I am fear'd in field and town;
Goblin, lead them up and down.

Here comes one.

Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,

Telling the bushes that thou looks for wars,
And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come,
thou child;

I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd,
That draws a sword on thee.

Dem. Yea; art thou there?

Puck. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood
here.
[Exeunt.

Re-enter LYSANDER.
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 thon not?

Cephalus, the paramour of Aurora.