Puck.
How now Spirit, whither wander you?

Fai.
Over Hill, over Dale, through Bush, through Briar,
Over Park, over Pale, through Flood, through Fire,
I do wander every where, swifter than the Moon's Sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen, to dew her Orbs upon the Green.
The Cowslips tall her Pensioners be,
In their gold Coats Spots you see,
Those be Rubies, Fairy favours,
In those Freckles live their Savours:
I must go seek some Dew-Drops here,
And hang a Pearl in every Cowslip's Ear.
Farewel thou Lob of Spirits, I'll be gone,
Our Queen and all her Elves come here anon.

Puck.
The King doth keep his Revels here to Night,

Take heed the Queen come not within his Sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her Attendant, hath
A lovely Boy stol'n from an Indian King,
She never had so sweet a Changeling,
And jealous Oberon would have the Child
Knight of his Train, to trace the Forests wild;
But she per-force with-holds the loved Boy,
Crowns him with Flowers, and makes him all her Joy:
And now they never meet in Grove, or Green,
By Fountain clear, or spangled Star-light sheen,
But they do square, that all their Elves for fear
Creep into Acorn Cups, and hide them there.

Fai.
Either I mistake your Shape and Making quite,
Or else you are that shrew'd and knavish Sprite
Call'd Robin-goodfellow. Are you not he,
That fright the Maidens of the Villageree,
Skim Milk, and sometimes labour in the Quern,
And bootless make the breathless Huswife chern,
And sometime make the Drink to bear no Barme,
Miss-lead Night-wanderers, laughing at their Harm,
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their Work, and they shall have good Luck.
Are not you he?

Puck.
Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merry Wanderer of the Night:
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed Horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness like a silly Foal:
And sometimes lurk I in a Gossip's Bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted Crab,
And when she drinks, again her Lips I bob,
And on her withered Dewlop pour the Ale.
The wisest Aunt telling the saddest Tale,
Sometime for three-foot Stool mistaketh me,
Then slip I from her Bum, down topples she,
And Tailor cries, and falls into a Cough,
And then the whole Quire hold their Hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their Mirth, and neeze and swear,
A merrier Hour was never wasted there.
But room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai.
And here my Mistress:
Would that we were gone. Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one Door with his Train, and the Queen at another with hers.

Ob.
I'll met by Moon-light,
Proud Titania.

Queen.
What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence,
I have forsworn his Bed and Company.

Ob.
Tarry rash Wanton, am not I thy Lord?

Queen.
Then I must be thy Lady; but I know
When thou wast stoll'n away from Fairy Land,
And in the shape of Corin sate all Day,
Playing on Pipes of Corn, and versing Love
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
Come from the farthest steep of India?
But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskin'd Mistress, and your Warrior Love,
To Theseus must be wedded, and you come,
To give their Bed Joy and Prosperity.

Ob.
How can'st thou thus for shame, Titania,
Glance at my Credit with Hippolita,
Knowing I know thy Love to Theseus?
Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering Night
From Peregenia, whom he ravished,
And make him with fair Ægle break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

Queen.
These are the Forgeries of Jealousie,
And never since the middle Summer's Spring,
Met we on Hill, in Dale, Forest, or Mead,
By paved Fountain, or by rushy Brook,
Or in the beached Margent of the Sea,
To dance our Ringlets to the whistling Wind,
But with thy Brawls thou hast disturb'd our Sport.
Therefore the Winds piping to us in vain,
As in Revenge have suck'd up from the Sea,
Contagious Fogs; which falling in the Land,
Hath every petty River made so proud,
That they have over-born their Continents.
The Ox hath therefore stretch'd his Yoak in vain,
The Ploughman lost his Sweat, and the green Corn
Hath rotted, e'er his Youth attain'd a Beard:

The Fold stands empty in the drowned Field,
And Crows are fatted with the Murrion Flock,
The Nine-mens-morris is fill'd up with Mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton Green,
For lack of tread are undistinguishable.
The human Mortals want their Winter here,
No Night is now with Hymn or Carol blest;
Therefore the Moon, the Governess of Floods,
Pale in her Anger, washes all the Air;
That Rheumatick Diseases do abound.
And through this Distemperature, we see
The Seasons alter; hoary-headed Frosts
Fall in the fresh Lap of the Crimson Rose,
And on old Hyem's Chin and Icy Crown,
An odorous Chaplet of sweet Summer Buds
Is as in Mockery set. The Spring, the Summer,
The childing Autumn, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liveries, and the amazed World,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same Progeny of Evil comes
From our Debate, from our Dissention,
We are their Parents and Original.

Ob.
Do you amend it then, it lyes in you.
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling Boy,
To be my Henchman.

Queen.
Set your Heart at rest,
The Fairy-land buys not the Child of me.
His Mother was a Votress of my Order,
And in the spiced Indian Air by Night
Full often she hath gossipt by my side,
And sate with me on Neptune's yellow Sands,
Marking th' embarked Traders of the Flood,
When we have laught to see the Sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied with the wanton Wind:
Which she with pretty and with swimming Gate,
Following (her Womb then rich with my young Squire)
Would imitate, and sail upon the Land,
To fetch me Trifles, and return again,
As from a Voyage rich with Merchandize.
But she being mortal of that Boy did dye,

And for her sake I do rear up her Boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him.

Ob.
How long within this Wood intend you stay?

Queen.
Perchance 'till after Theseus's Wedding-day.
If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And see our Moon-light Revels, go with us;
If not, shun me and I will spare your Haunts.

Ob.
Give me that Boy, and I will go with thee.

Queen.
Not for thy fairy Kingdom. Fairies away:
We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. [Exeunt.

Ob.
Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this Grove,
'Till I torment thee for this Injury.
My gentle Puck come hither; thou remembrest
Since that I sate upon a Promontory,
And heard a Mermaid on a Dolphin's Back,
Uttering such Dulcet and Harmonious Breath,
That the rude Sea grew civil at her Song,
And certain Stars shot madly from their Sphears,
To hear the Sea-maid's Musick.

Puck.
I remember.

Ob.
That very time I saw, but thou could'st not,
Flying between the cold Moon and the Earth,
Cupid all arm'd; a certain Aim he took
At a fair Vestal, throned by the West,
And loos'd his Love-shaft smartly from his Bow,
As it would pierce a hundred thousand Hearts;
But I might see young Cupid's fiery Shaft
Quench'd in the chaste Beams of the wat'ry Moon,
And the Imperial Votress passed on,
In Maiden-Meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark'd I where the Bolt of Cupid fell,
It fell upon a little western Flower;
Before, milk-white, now purple with Love's Wound,
And Maidens call it, Love in Idleness.
Fetch me that Flower; the Herb I shew'd thee once,
The Juice of it, on sleeping Eye-lids laid,
Will make a Man or Woman madly doat
Upon the next live Creature that it sees.
Fetch me this Herb, and be thou here again
E'er the Leviathan can swim a League.

Puck.
I'll put a Girdle about the Earth in forty Minutes. [Exit.

Ob.
Having once this Juice,
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the Liquor of it in her Eyes:
The next thing which she waking looks upon,
(Be it on Lyon, Bear, or Wolf, or Bull,
Or medling Monkey, or on busie Ape)
She shall pursue it with the Soul of Love;
And e'er I take this Charm off from her Sight,
(As I can take it with another Herb)
I'll make her render up her Page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible,
And I will over-hear their Conference. Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.

Dem.
I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia?
The one I'll stay, the other stayeth me.
Thou told'st me they were stol'n into this Wood;
And here am I, and Wood within this Wood,
Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
Hence get thee gone, and follow me no more.

Hel.
You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,
But yet you draw not Iron; for my Heart
Is true as Steel. Leave you your Power to draw,
And I shall have no Power to follow you.

Dem.
Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
Or rather do I not in plainest Truth,
Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you?

Hel.
And even for that do I love thee the more;
I am your Spaniel, and, Demetrius,
The more you beat me I will fawn on you:
Use me but as your Spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me Leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
What worser Place can I beg in your Love,
(And yet a Place of high Respect with me)
Than to be used as you do your Dog?

Dem.
Tempt not too much the Hatred of my Spirit,
For I am sick when I do look on thee.

Hel.
And I am sick when I look not on you.

Dem.
You do impeach your Modesty too much,
To leave the City, and commit your self
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To trust the Opportunity of Night,
And the ill Counsel of a desart Place,
With the rich Worth of your Virginity.

Hel.
Your Virtue is my Privilege; for that
It is not Night when I do see your Face;
Therefore I think I am not in the Night.
Nor doth this Wood lack Worlds of Company,
For you, in my respect, are all the World.
Then how can it be said I am alone,
When all the World is here to look on me?

Dem.
I'll run from thee and hide me in the Brakes,
And leave thee to the Mercy of wild Beasts.

Hel.
The wildest hath not such a Heart as you;
Run when you will, the Story shall be chang'd:
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the Chace;
The Dove pursues the Griffin, the mild Hind
Makes speed to catch the Tyger. Bootless speed!
When Cowardize pursues, and Valour flies.

Dem.
I will not stay thy Questions, let me go;
Or if you follow me, do not believe,
But I shall do thee Mischief in the Wood.

Hel.
Ay, in the Temple, in the Town and Field
You do me Mischief. Fye, Demetrius,
Your Wrongs do set a Scandal on my Sex:
We cannot fight for Love, as Men may do;
We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.
I follow thee, and make a Heaven of Hell,
To dye upon the Hand I love so well. [Exeunt.

Ob.
Fare thee well, Nymph, e'er he do leave this Grove
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy Love.
Hast thou the Flower there? Welcome Wanderer. Enter Puck.

Puck.
Ay, there it is.

Ob.
I pray thee give it me;
I know a Bank where the wild Time blows,
Where the Oxslips and the nodding Violet grows,
Quite over cannopy'd with luscious Woodbine,
With sweet Musk Roses, and with Eglatine,

There sleeps Titania, some time of the Night,
Lull'd in these Flowers, with Dances and Delight;
And there the Snake throws her enammel'd Skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a Fairy in:
And with the Juice of this I'll streak her Eyes,
And make her full of hateful Fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this Grove;
A sweet Athenian Lady is in love
With a disdainful Youth; anoint his Eyes,
But do it when the next thing he espies
May be the Lady. Thou shalt know the Man,
By the Athenian Garments he hath on.
Effect it with some Care, that he may prove
More fond of her than she upon her Love;
And look you meet me e'er the first Cock crow.

Puck.
Fear not my Lord, your Servant shall do so. [Exit. Enter Queen of Fairies, with her Train.

Queen.
Come, now a Roundel, and a Fairy Song:
Then for the third Part of a Minute hence,
Some to kill Kankers in the Musk-Rose Buds,
Some war with Reremise for their leathern Wings,
To make my small Elves Coats, and some keep back
The clamorous Owl that nightly hoots, and wonders
At our queint Spirits. Sing me now asleep,
Then to your Offices, and let me rest.

Fairies Sing.
You spotted Snakes with double Tongue,
Thorny Hedgehogs be not seen,
Newts and blind Worms do no wrong,
Come not near our Fairy Queen.
Philomel with Melody,
Sing in your sweet Lullaby,
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely Lady nigh,
So good night with Lullaby.

2. Fairy.
Weaving Spiders come not here;
Hence you long-leg'd Spinners, hence:
Beetles black approach not near,
Worm nor Snail do no Offence.
Philomel with Melody, &c.

1. Fairy.
Hence away; now all is well:
One aloof, stand Centinel. [Exeunt Fairies. Enter Oberon.

Obe.
What thou seest when thou dost wake,
Do it for thy true Love take,
Love and languish for his sake;
Be it Ounce, 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 Oberon. Enter Lysander and Hermia.

Lys.
Fair Love, you faint with wandring in the Woods;
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,
Lye further off yet, do not lye so near.

Lys.
O take the Sense sweet of my Innocence,
Love takes the Meaning in Love's Conference;
I mean that my Heart unto yours is knit,
So that but one Heart can you make of it:
Two Bosoms interchanged with an Oath,
So then two Bosoms, and a single Troth:
Then by your Side no Bed-room me deny
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lye.

Her.
Lysander riddles very prettily;
Now much beshrew my Manners, and my Pride,
If Hermia meant to say, Lysander ly'd.

But gentle Friend, for Love and Curtesie
Lye further off in human Modesty;
Such Separation as may well be said
Becomes a virtuous Batchelor, 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 thy Bed, Sleep give thee all his Rest.

Her.
With half that Wish, the Wishers Eyes be prest. [They sleep. Enter Puck.

Puck.
Through the Forest have I gone,
But Athenian find 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
Pretty Soul, she durst not lye
Near this Lack-love, this kill Curtesie.
Churl, upon thy Eyes I throw
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, tho' thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

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

Hel.
O wilt thou Darling 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 lyes;
For she hath blessed and attractive Eyes.
How came her Eyes so bright? Not with salt Tears;
If so, my Eyes are oftner 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, tho' Demetrius
Do as a Monster, fly my Presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling Glass of mine,
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery Eyn?
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 thro' Fire I will for thy sweet Sake. [Waking.
Transparent Helena, Nature here shews Art,
That through thy Bosom makes me see thy Heart.
Where is Demetrius? Oh how fit a Word
Is that vile Name, to perish on my Sword?

Hel.
Do not say so, Lysander, say not so;
What tho' he love your Hermia? Lord, what tho'?
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 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;
And touching now the Point of human Skill,
Reason becomes the Marshal to my Will,
And leads me to your Eyes, where I o'erlook
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?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young Man,
That I did never, no nor never can
Deserve a sweet Look from Demetrius's 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:

Oh, 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 a Stomach brings;
Or as the Heresies that Men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my Surfeit and my Heresie,
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.
Help me, Lysander, help me, do thy best
To pluck this crawling Serpent from my Breast:
Ay me, for Pity, what a Dream was here?
Lysander look, how I do quake with Fear;
Me-thought a Serpent eat my Heart away,
And yet sate 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, and if you hear,
Speak of all Loves; I swound almost with Fear.
No, then I well perceive you are not nigh,
Either Death or you I'll find immediately. [Exit.

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