Puc.
How now, spirit! whither wander you?

Fai.
    Over hill, over dale,14Q0239
      Thorough ^note bush, thorough briar,
    Over park, over pale,
      Thorough flood, thorough 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 there,
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.

Puc.
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, stoln 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, perforce, withholds 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 spangl'd 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 shrewd and knavish sprite,
Call'd Robin Good-fellow: Are not you ^note he,
That frights the maidens of the villag'ry;
Skim milk; and sometimes labour in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless huswife churn;
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hob-goblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
Are not you he?

Puc.
Thou speakest ^note me 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 of a filly foal: ^note
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab;
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dew-lap 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 rails, or cries ^note, ^note14Q0240 and falls into a coffe;
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 make room, fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai.
And here my mistress: 'Would, that he were ^note gone! Enter the King of Fairies, from one Side, with his Train; and the Queen, from the other, with hers.

Obe.
Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania.

Tit.
What, jealous Oberon?—Fairy, skip hence,
I have forsworn his bed and company.

Obe.
Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord?

Tit.
Then I must be thy lady: But I know
When thou hast stoln ^note away from fairy land,
And in the shape of Corin sat all day,
Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
Come from the farthest step of ^note 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.

Obe.
How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit, with Hippolita,
Knowing I know thy love to Thesëus?
Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night
From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
And make him with fair Egle ^note break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa? ^note

Tit.
These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since14Q0241 that middle ^note summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or on ^note 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 pelting river ^note 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, ere his youth ^note attain'd a beard:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock:
The nine-men's morrice is fill'd up with mud;
And the quaint 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, thorough ^note this distemperature, we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed ^note frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose;
And on old Hyems' chin, and icy ^note crown,
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
The chiding ^note autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries; and the 'mazed ^note world,
By their encrease, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissention;
We are their parents and original.

Obe.
Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my henchman.

Tit.
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 hath she gossip'd by my side;
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
Marking the embarked traders on the flood;
When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive,
And grow big-belly'd, with the wanton wind:
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait,
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 die;
And, for her sake, do I ^note rear up her boy;
And, for her sake, I will not part with him.

Obe.
How long within this wood intend you stay?

Tit.
Perchance, 'till after Theseus' 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.

Obe.
Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

Tit.
Not for thy fairy kingdom.—Fairies, away:
We shall chide down-right, if I longer stay. [Exeunt Queen, and her Train.

Obe.
Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove,
'Till I torment thee for this injury.—

My gentle Puck, come hither: Thou remember'st14Q0242
Since once I ^note sat 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 spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's musick.

Puc.
I remember.

Obe.
That very time, I saw ^note, (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; ^note
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts:
But I might see young Cupid's fiery snaft
Quench'd in the chast beams of the watry 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 lay'd,
Will make or man or woman madly doat
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again,
Ere the leviathan can swim a league.

Puc.
I'll put a girdle round about ^note the earth
In forty minutes. [Exit Puck.

Obe.
Having once this juice,
I'll watch Titania when she ^note is asleep,

And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she ^note waking looks upon,
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On medling monkey, or on busy ape)
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm from off ^note 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 slay, the other slayeth ^note me.
Thou told'st me, they were stoln unto this ^note wood;
And here am I, and wode ^note 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 you the ^note 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 use your ^note 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 yourself
Into the hands of one that loves you not;
To trust the opportunity of night,
And the ill counsel of a desert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.

Hel.
Your virtue is my priviledge: 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 tiger: Bootless speed!
When cowardice pursues, and valour flies.

Dem.
I will not stay thy questions; let me go:
Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

Hel.
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field ^note,
You do me mischief. Fie, 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. [Demetrius breaks from her, and Exit.
I'll follow ^note thee, and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well. [Exit.

Obe.
Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.— Re-enter Puck.
Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.

Puc.
Ay, there † it is.

Obe.
I pray thee, give it me.
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips ^note and the nodding violet grows;
O'er-canopy'd ^{note note} with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania, some time of the night,
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamel'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 &dagger2; 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 on her, than she upon her love:
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

Puc.
Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so. [Exeunt, severally.

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