Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings,
To make my small elves coats; and fome keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders
At our queint sports. Sing me now asleep:
Then to your offices, and let me rest.

Fairies fing.

You fpotted fnakes with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not feen;
Newts and blind worms, do no wrong ;
Come not near our Fairy Queen.
Philomel, with melody,

Sing in your fweet lullaby:

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harm, nor fpell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;

So good night with lullaby.

Second Fairy.

Weaving fpiders, come not here ;
Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence :
Beetles black, approach not near;
Worm, nor fnail, do no offence.

Philomel with melody, &c.

First Fairy.

Hence, away; now all is well:

One, aloof, ftand centinel.

[Exeunt Fairies. The Queen fleeps.

Enter Oberon.

Ob. What thou feeft, when thou doft wake,

Do it for thy true love take:

Love and languish for his fake;
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with briftled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear,
When thou wak'ft, it is thy dear;
Wake, when fome vile thing is near.

[Exit Oberon.

SCENE

Enter Lyfander and Hermia.

Lyf. Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood; And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way: We'll reft us, Hermia, if thou think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Her. Be't fo, Lyfander; find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will reft my head.

Lyf. One turf fhall ferve as pillow for us both,
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.
Her. Nay, good Lyfander; for my fake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie fo near.

Lyf. O take the fenfe, fweet, of my conference;
Love takes the meaning, in love's innocence;
I mean, that my heart unto your's is knit;
So that but one heart can you make of it:
Two bofoms, interchained with an oath;
So then two bofoms, and a single troth:
Then, by your fide no bed-room me deny;
For lying fo, Hermia, I do not lye.

Her. Lyfander riddles very prettily;
Now much befhrew my manners, and my pride,
If Hermia meant to fay, Lyfander ly'd.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy,
Lie further off; in human modesty,

Such feparation, as may well be said,
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid:

So far be diftant; and good night, fweet friend;
Thy love ne'er alter, till thy fweet life end!
Lyf. Amen, Amen, to that fair prayer, fay I;
And then end life, when I end loyalty!

Here is my bed; fleep give thee all his reft!

Her. With half that wifh the wifher's eyes be prest!

Enter Puck.

Puck. Through the foreft have I gone,

But Athenian found I none,

On whofe eyes I might approve

This flower's force in flirring love:

[They fleep.

Night and filence! who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear;
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid,
And here the maiden fleeping found
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty foul! fhe durft not lie
Near to this lack-love kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the pow'r this charm doth owe:
When thou wak'ft, let love forbid
Sleep his feat on thy eye-lid;
So awake, when I am gone:
For I muft now to Oberon.

SCENE

[Exit.

VII.

Enter Demetrius and Helena running.

Hel. Stay, tho' thou kill me, fweet Demetrius ! Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me

thus.

Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not fo. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.

[Exit Demetrius. Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chace; The more my prayer, the leffer is my grace. Happy is Hermia, wherefoe'er the lies;

For the hath bleffed and attractive eyes.

How came her eyes fo bright? not with falt tears;
If fo, my eyes are oftener wafh'd than her's.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;

For beasts, that meet me, run away for fear.
Therefore no marvel, tho' Demetrius
Do (as a monster) fly my presence thus.
What wicked and diffembling glafs of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's (phery eyne?
But who is here? Lyfander on the ground:
Dead or afleep? I fee no blood, no wound:
Lyfander, if you live, good Sir, awake.

Lyf. And run thro' fire I will, for thy sweet fake.
[Waking.

Transparent Helen, nature here fhews art,
VOL. I.

L

That

That through thy bofom makes me fee thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!

Hel. Do not fay fo, Lyfander, fay not fo; What tho' he loves your Hermia? Lord, what tho'? Yet Hermia ftill loves you; then be content.

Lyf. Content with Hermia? no: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent ;
Not Hermia, but Helena I love :

Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reafon fway'd;
And reafon fays, you are the worthier maid.
Things, growing, are not ripe until their season;
So I, being young, till now not ripe to reafon;
And, touching now the point of human skill,
Reafon becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes; where I o'erlook
Love's ftories, written in love's richest book.

Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mock'ry born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,
Deferve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my infufficiency?

Good troth, you do me wrong; good footh, you do; In fuch difdainful manner me to woo :

But fare you well

Perforce I must confefs,

I thought you lord of more true gentleness:

Oh, that a lady, of one man refus'd,

Should of another therefore be abus'd !

And never may'ft thou come Lyfander near;

[Exit.

Lyf. She fees not Hermia; Hermia, fleep thou there;

For as a furfeit of the sweetest things

The deepest loathing to the ftomach brings;
Or as the herefies, that men do leave,
Are hated moft of those they did deceive;
So thou, my furfeit and my herefy,

Of all be hated, but the most of me!

And, all my pow'rs, address your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her knight!

[Exit.

Her. Help me, Lyfander, help me! do thy best To pluck this crawling ferpent from my breast:

Ay

Ay me, for pity, what a dream was here?
Lyfander, look how I do quake with fear;
Methought a ferpent eat my heart away;
And you fat fmiling at his cruel prey :
Lyfander! what, remov'd? Lyfander, Lord!
What, out of hearing gone? no found, no word?
Alack, where are you? fpeak, and if you hear,
Speak, of all loves; (I fwoon almost with fear).
No- then I well perceive, you are not nigh;
Or death or you I'll find immediately.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Wood.

[Exit.

Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt, and

Bot.

A

Starveling.

The Queen of Fairies lying afleep.

RE we all met?

Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot fhall be our stage, this hawthorn-brake our tyring-house, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke.

Bot. Peter Quince-

Quin. What fay'st thou, bully Bottom?

Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus muft draw a fword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot abide. How anfwer you that?

Snowt. By'rlaken, a parlous fear.

Star. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well: write me a prologue, and let the prologue feem to fay, we will do no harm with our fwords, and that Pyramus is not kill'd indeed; and for more better affurance tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver; this will put them out of fear.

Quin. Well, we will have fuch a prologue, and it fhall be written in eight and fix.

L 2

Bot.