II. 2 Fai.
Weaving spiders, come not here;
  Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence:
Beetles black, approach not near;
  Worm, nor snail, do no offence. CHORUS.
Philomel, with melody, &c.

1 Fai.
Hence, away; now all is well:
One, aloof, stand sentinel^{2 note}. [Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps. Enter Oberon.

Obe.
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^{3 note}, 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. [Exit. Enter Lysander and Hermia.

Lys.
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.

Her.
Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.

Lys.
One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

Her.
Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

Lys.
O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence^{4 note}
;

Love takes the meaning, in love's conference^{5 note}

Her.
Lysander riddles very prettily:—
Now much beshrew^{7 note}

Such separation, as, may well be said,
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid:
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend:
Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!

Lys.
Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
And then end life, when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest!

Her.
With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! [They sleep. Enter Puck.

Puck.
Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none^{8 note},
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love
Night and silence! who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy^{9 note}

All the power this charm doth owe^{1 note}

;
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eye-lid^{2 note}


.
So awake, when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon. [Exit. Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.

Hel.
Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

Dem.
I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

Hel.
O, wilt thou darkling leave me^{3 note}

Dem.
Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [Exit Demetrius.

Hel.
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace^{4 note}.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me, run away for fear:
Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.

What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?—
But who is here?—Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound:—
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.

Lys.
And run through fire I will, for thy sweet sake. [Waking.
Transparent Helena! Nature shows her art^{5 note}

Hel.
Do not say so, Lysander; say not so:
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.

Lys.
Content with Hermia? No: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena now* ^note I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason sway'd;
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season:
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason^{6 note}
;
And touching now the point of human skill^{7 note}
,

Reason becomes the marshal to my will^{8 note}

Hel.
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery 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,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well: perforce I must confess,

I thought you lord of more true gentleness^{1 note}.
O, that a lady, of one man refus'd,
Should, of another, therefore be abus'd! [Exit.

Lys.
She sees not Hermia:—Hermia, sleep thou there:
And never may'st thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Or, as the heresies, that men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy,
Of all be hated; but the most of me!
And all my powers, address your love and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her knight! [Exit.

Her. [starting.]
Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best,
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ah me, for pity!—what a dream was here?
Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear:
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you^{2 note} sat smiling at his cruel prey:—
Lysander! what, remov'd? Lysander, lord!
What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear;
Speak, of all loves^{3 note}
; I swoon almost with fear.
No?—then I well perceive you are not nigh:
Either death, or you, I'll find immediately^{4 note}

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