Hel.
O weary night, O long and tedious night,
  Abate thy hours; shine, comforts, from the East:
That I may back to Athens by day-light,
  From these, that my poor company detest;
And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me a while from mine own company. [Sleeps.

Puck.
Yet but three? come one more,
Two of both kinds make up four.
Here she comes, curst and sad:
Cupid is a knavish lad,
Thus to make poor females mad. Enter Hermia.

Her.
Never so weary, never so in woe,
  Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers,
I can no further crawl, no further go;
  My legs can keep no pace with my desires:
Here will I rest me, 'till the break of day.
Heav'ns shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lyes down.

Puck.
On the ground
      Sleep sound,
      I'll apply
      To your eye,
    Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye.
      When thou wak'st,
      Thou tak'st
      True delight
      In the sight
  Of thy former lady's eye;

  And the country proverb known,
  That every man should take his own,
  In your waking shall be shown.
      Jack shall have Jill,
      Naught shall go ill,
The man shall have his mare again, and all be well. [Exit Puck. [They sleep. ^noteACT IV.

* [Footnote:

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