Tit.
Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song;
Then, 'fore the third part of a minute, hence:
Some, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds;
Some, war with rear-mice* ^note 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.
SONG. First Fairy.
You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
  Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;
Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong;
  Come not near our Fairy Queen: Chorus.
  Philomel, with melody,
  Sing in our sweet lullaby:
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:
  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
  Come our lovely lady nigh;
  So good night with lullaby. Second Fairy.
Weaving spiders, come not here;
  Hence, you long-leg'd spinners, hence:
Beetles black, approach not near;
  Worm, nor snail, do no offence: Chorus.
Philomel, with melody, &c.‡ ^note

1. F.
Hence, away; now all is well:
One, aloof, stand centinel. [Exeunt. Tit. sleeps. Enter Oberon.

Obe.
What thou see'st, when thou dost wake, [To Tit. squeezing the Flower upon her 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 bristl'd 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 wand'ring 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.

&blquo;Her.
&blquo;Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear† ^note.
&blquo;Lye further off yet, do not lye so near.

&blquo;Lys.
&blquo;O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence;
&blquo;Love takes the meaning, in love's conference.
&blquo;I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit;
&blquo;So that but one heart we make of it;
&blquo;Two bosoms interchained with an oath;
&blquo;So then, two bosoms, and a single troth.
&blquo;Then, by your side no bed-room me deny;
&blquo;For, lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

&blquo;Her.
&blquo;Lysander riddles very prettily:—
&blquo;Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
&blquo;If Hermia meant to say, Lysander ly'd.
&blquo;But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
&blquo;Lye further off; in human modesty

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

&blquo;Lys.
&blquo;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.

Puc.
Through the forest have I gone;
But Athenian found I none,
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* ^note.
&blquo;Pretty soul, she durst not lye
&blquo;Near to this kill-courtesy.
&blquo;Churl,&brquo; upon thy eyes I throw† ^note

All the power this charm doth owe:
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eye-lid.
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? do not so.

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 lesser is my grace.

Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed, and attractive eyes.
&blquo;How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
&blquo;If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
&blquo;No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
&blquo;For beasts, that meet me, run away for fear:
&blquo;Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius
&blquo;Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyen?—
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, and starting up.
Transparent Helena! Nature shews art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!

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 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.
&blquo;Things growing are not ripe until their season:
&blquo;So I, being young, 'till now ripe not to reason;
&blquo;And touching now the point of human skill,
&blquo;Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
&blquo;And leads me to your eyes; where I o'er-look
&blquo;Love's stories, written in love's richest book.

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

&blquo;Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
&blquo;In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But, fare you well: perforce I must confess,
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
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 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. I swoon almost with fear.
No?—then I well perceive you are not nigh:
Or death, or you, I'll find immediately* ^note. [Exit.

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