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Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
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SCENE I. Continued, The Wood. Enter Queen of the Fairies, Bottom, Fairies attending, and the King behind them.

Queen.
Come, sit thee down upon this flow'ry bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,3 note
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek, smooth'd head;
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot.

Where's Peaseblossom?

Pease.

Ready.

Bot.

Scratch my head Peaseblossom. Where's monsieur Cobweb?

Cob.

Ready.

Bot.

Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipt humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care, the honey-bag break not; I should be loth to

-- 150 --

have you over-flown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's monsieur Mustardseed?

Must.

Ready.

Bot.

Give me thy neise, monsieur Mustardseed; pray you, leave your curtesy, good monsieur.

Must.

What's your will?

Bot.

Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalero Cobweb to scratch.6Q0017 I must to the barber's, monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair doth but tickle me, I must scratch.

Queen.

What, wilt thou hear some musick, my sweet love?

Bot.

I have a reasonable good ear in musick; let us have the tongs and the bones.

Rural Musick, Tongs, &c.

Queen.

Or say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat.

Bot.

Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay hath no fellow.

Queen.
I have a venturous Fairy that shall seek
The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Bot.

I had rather have a handful or two of dried pease. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

Queen.
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms;
Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away:4 note




So doth the woodbine, the sweet honey-suckle,5 note





-- 151 --


Gently entwist; the female Ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm.
O, how I love thee! how I doat on thee! Enter Puck.

Ob.
Welcome, good Robin; seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity;
For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
Seeking sweet * notesavours for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her:
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
And that same dew, which sometimes on the buds
Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flouret's eyes,
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in mild terms begg'd my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child,
Which strait she gave me, and her Fairy sent

-- 152 --


To bear him to my bower in Fairy-land,
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eye:
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
From off the head of the Athenian swain;
That he, awaking, when the others do,
May all to Athens back again repair;
And think no more of this night's accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first, I will release the Fairy Queen;

Be, as thou wast wont to be;
See, as thou wast wont to see:
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flow'r
Hath such force and blessed power.6 note
Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet Queen.

Queen.
My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
Methought, I was enamour'd of an ass.

Ob.
There lies your love.

Queen.
How came these things to pass?
Oh, how mine eyes do loath this visage now!

Ob.
Silence, a while—Robin, take off his head;
Titania, musick call; and strike more dead
Than common sleep of all these five the sense.7 note

Queen.
Musick, ho! musick: such as charmeth sleep.
Still Musick.

Puck.
When thou awak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

-- 153 --

Ob.
Sound, musick; come, my Queen, take hand with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity;
And will to morrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair * noteposterity;8 note



There shall these pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Puck.
Fairy King, attend and mark;
I do hear the morning lark.

Ob.
Then, my Queen, in silence sad;9 note

Trip we after the night's shade;
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.

Queen.
Come, my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping here was found, [Sleepers lie still.
With these mortals on the ground.
[Exeunt. [Wind horns within. Enter Theseus, Egeus, Hippolita, and all his Train.

The.
Go one of you, find out the forester,
For now our observation is perform'd,1 note

-- 154 --


And since we have the vaward of the day,
My love shall hear the musick of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley, go,—
Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.
We will, fair Queen, up to the mountain's top,
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip.
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
With hounds of Sparta; never did I hear
Such gallant chiding. For besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, ev'ry region near
Seem'd all one mutual cry. I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

The.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So * note flew'd, so † note sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd, like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never hallo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:
Judge, when you hear. But soft, what nymphs are these?

Ege.
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena;
I wonder at their being here together.

The.
No doubt, they rose up early to observe
The Rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our Solemnity.
But speak, Egeus, is not this the day,
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

Ege.
It is, my lord.

-- 155 --

The.
Go bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
Horns, and Shout within; Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia and Helena, wake and start up.

The.
Good morrow, friends; Saint Valentine is past;
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Lys.
Pardon, my lord.

The.
I pray you all, stand up:
I know, you two are rival enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy,
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys.
My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I came here:
But as I think, for truly would I speak,
And now I do bethink me, so it is;
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of th' Athenian law.

Ege.
Enough, enough; my lord, you have enough;
I beg the law, the law upon his head:
They would have stoll'n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me;
You, of your wife; and me, of my consent;
Of my consent, that she should be your wife.

Dem.
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;
Fair Helena in fancy following me.2 note


-- 156 --


But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
But by some power it is, my love to Hermia
Is melted as the snow; seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaude,
Which in my childhood I did doat upon,
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betrothed ere I Hermia saw;
But like a sickness did I loath this food;
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now do I wish it, love it, long for it;
And will for evermore be true to it.

The.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
Of this discourse we shall hear more anon.
Egeus, I will over-bear your will;
For in the temple, by and by with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit;
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.
Away, with us to Athens; three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.
Come, Hippolita.
[Exe. Duke, Hippol. and Train.

Dem.
These things seem small and undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

Her.
Methinks I see these things with parted Eye;
When every thing seems double.

Hel.
So, methinks;
And I have found Demetrius like a Jewel,3 note



-- 157 --


Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem.
It seems to me,
That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think,
The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?

Her.
Yea, and my father.

Hel.
And Hippolita.

Lys.
And he did bid us follow to the temple.

Dem.
Why then, we are awake; let's follow him;
And, by the way, let us recount our dreams.
[Exeunt.
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Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
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