Tit.
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
  While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,^{1 note}
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek, smooth head,
  And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot.

Where's Peas-blossom?

Pea.

Ready.

Bot.

Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.—Where's Cobweb?

Cob.

Ready.

Bot.

Good Cobweb, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good Cobweb, bring me the honey-bag. Where's Mustard-seed?

Mus.

Ready.

Bot.

Give me your neif,^{2 note} Mustard-seed.

Mus.

What's your will?

Bot.

Nothing, good sir, but to help Peas-blossom to scratch. I must to the barber's; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Tit.
What, wilt thou hear some music?
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.

Tit.
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 peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

Tit.
Fairies, begone, and be a while away.^{3 note} [Exeunt Fairies. [They sleep. Music. Oberon advances. Enter Puck.

Obe.
Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity.
For meeting her of late, behind the wood,
She, in mild terms, did beg my patience;
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.

INCANTATION.
  Be, as thou was wont to be; [Touching her eyes with an herb.
  See, as thou was wont to see:
  Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower^{4 note}
  Hath such force and blessed power.
Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

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

Obe.
There lies your love.

Tit.
How came these things to pass?
O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now!

Obe.
Silence, a while.—Robin take off this head.— [Puck takes the ass's head off Bottom, and flies away.

Obe.
Sound, musick. [Music.] Come, my queen, take hands with me;
Now thou and I are new in amity;
We will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly,
Dance in Prince Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair posterity.

TRIO. 1st Fai.
  Fairy king, attend and mark;
  I do hear the morning lark. Obe.
  Then, my queen, in silence sad,
  Trip we after the night's shade:
  We the globe can compass soon,
  Swifter than the wand'ring moon. 2nd Fai.
  Fairy king, attend and mark,
  I do hear the morning lark. 1st Fai.
  Come, my lord; and in our flight,
  Tell me how it came this night,
  Sleeping here our queen was found,
  With this mortal on the ground. [Exeunt. [As they go out Bottom awakes.

Bot.

When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer:— my next is, Most fair Pyramus.—Hey, ho!—Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream,—past the wit of man to say what dream it was: Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had,—But man is but a patched fool,^{5 note} if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen: man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of the play, before the prince: Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at Thisbe's death.

Scene II. —ATHENS. INTERIOR OF QUINCE'S HOUSE. Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, Starveling, and Snug.

Qui.

Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet?

Sta.

He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported.

Flu.

If he come not, then the play is marred; It goes not forward, doth it?

Qui.

It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he.

Flu.

No; he hath simply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens.

Qui.

Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very paramour, for a sweet voice.

Flu.

You must say, paragon: a paramour is, Heaven bless us, a thing of nought.

Snug.

If our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

Bot.

Where are these lads? where are these hearts?

Qui.

Bottom!—O most courageous day! O most happy hour!

Bot.

Masters I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out.

Qui.

Let us hear, sweet Bottom.

Bot.

Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is—Get your apparel together; and meet presently at the palace; every man look o'er his part; for, the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and, most dear actors, eat no onions, nor garlick; for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt, but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words; away; go away.

Scene III. —THE WOOD AS IN LAST ACT. SUNRISE. Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia, and Helena discovered asleep. Horns heard without. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.

The.
Go, one of you, find out the forester;—
And since we have the vaward of the day,^{6 note}
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley; go;
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;^{7 note} for, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every 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 flew'd,^{8 note} so sanded:^{9 note} 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 holla'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 of their being here together.

The.
Speak, good Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

Ege.
It is, my Lord.

The.
Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
No doubt, that they, hearing of our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.— [Horns sound. Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia, and Helena, wake and start up.

The.
Good morrow, friends.

Lys.
Pardon, my lord. [He and the rest kneel to Theseus.

The.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you are two 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 I think,
I came with Hermia hither: our intent
Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of the Athenian law.

Ege.
Enough, enough, my lord: you have enough:
I beg the law, the law upon his head.—
They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me.

Dem.
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
And I in fury hither follow'd them:
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
My love to Hermia seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gawd,^{10 note}

And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena.

The.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.—
Egeus, I will overbear 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, my Hippolyta. [Horns sound. [Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train. END OF ACT FOURTH.

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