Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company togetner now-a-days: 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:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,

That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!

Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberriest, 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,

• Joke.

+ Gooseberries,

To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1 Fai. Hail, mortal!

2 Fai. Iail!

3 Fai. Hail!

4 Fai. Hail!

Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I be. seech, 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 you of more acquaintance too.-Your name, I beseech you, sir?

Mus. Mustard-seed.

Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your pa tience well that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes wa. ter ere now. I desire your more acquaintance, 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 soine enforced chastity.

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

[Exeunt,

SCENE II.

Another part of the wood.

Enter 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-rule* 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 patchest, 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,
An ass's nowlý I fixed on his head;

Anon, his Thisbe must be answered,

And forth my mimick || comes: when they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun's report
Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky;
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly:

And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.

* Revelry.
Stupid company.

+ Simple fellows.

§ Head.

||Actor.

Their sense, thus weak, lost, with their fears, thus

strong,

Made senseless things begin to do them wrong:
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some, sleeves; some, hats: from yielders all things
catch,

I led them 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 finish'd too, And the Athenian woman by his side? That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

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 so! Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

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

worse;

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

Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.

The sun was not so true unto the day,

As be to me: Would he have stol'n away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon,
This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon
May through the center 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,

Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty:
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds

Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men !
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 a doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'dt

mood:

I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;

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. [Erit.
Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein:
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow
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: