Puck.
What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here.
So near the cradle of the fairy Queen?
What, a play tow'rd? I'll be an auditor;
An Actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

Quin.
Speak, Pyramus; Thisby, stand forth.

Pyr.
Thisby, the flower of odious savours sweet.

Quin.
Odours, odours.

Pyr.
Odours, savours sweet.
  So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby, dear;
But hark, a voice! stay thou but here a whit;
  And, by and by, I will to thee appear, [Exit Pyr.

Puck.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er plaid here! [Aside.

This.

Must I speak now?

Quin.

Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

This.
Most radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,
  Of colour like the red rose on triumphant bryer,
Most brisky Juvenile, and eke most lovely Jew,
  As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.

Quin.

Ninus' tomb, man; why you must not speak that yet: that you answer to Pyramus; you speak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus, enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire.

This.

O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.

Pyr.

If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.

Quin.

O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted; pray, masters; fly, masters; help!

Puck.
I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round.
  Through bog, through bush, through brake, through bryer;
Sometimes a horse I'll be, sometimes a hound,
  A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire,
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [Exit.

Bot.

Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard.

Snout.

O Bottom, thou art chang'd; what do I see on thee?

Bot.

What do you see? you see an ass-head of your own, do you?

Quin.

Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee; thou art translated.

Bot.

I see their knavery, this is to make an ass of me, to fright me if they could; but I will not stir from this place, do what they can; I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid.

The Ousel cock, so black of hue,
  With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
  The wren with little quill.

Queen.
What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? [Waking.

Bot.

The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, [Sings.
  The plain-song cuckow gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
  And dares not answer, nay.

For, indeed, who would set his Wit to so foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lye, tho' he cry cuckow never so?

Queen.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again;
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force (perforce) doth move me,
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.

Bot.

Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days. The more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can ^{1 note}gleek upon occasion.

Queen.

Thou art as wise, as thou art beautiful.

Bot.

Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.

Queen.
Out of this wood do not desire to go,
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee; therefore, go with me,
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;

And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!

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