Tit.
Come, now a roundel,14Q0243 and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence:
Some, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds;
Some, war with rear-mice for their leathern wings,
To make my small elves coats; and some, keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders
At our quaint spirits: Sing me now asleep;
Then to your offices, and let me rest.
SONG. First Fairy.
You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
  thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;
newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong;
  come not near our fairy queen: Cho.
  Philomel, with melody,
  sing in our sweet ^note lullaby;
lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:
  never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
  come our lovely lady nigh;
  so, good night, with lullaby. Second Fairy. ^note
Weaving spiders, come not here;
  hence, you long-leg'd spinners, hence:
beetles black, approach not near;
  worm, nor snail, do no offence: Cho.
Philomel, with melody, &c.

1. F. ^note
Hence, away; now all is well:
One, aloof, stand centinel. [Exeunt. Tit. sleeps.

Enter Oberon.

Obe.
What thou see'st, when thou dost wake, [to Tit. squeezing the Flower upon her Eye-lids.
Do it for thy ^note true love take;
Love, and languish for his sake:
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristl'd hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
When thou wak'st, it is thy dear;
Wake, when some vile thing is near. [Exit. Enter Lysander, and Hermia.

Lys.
Fair love ^note you faint with wand'ring in the wood; ^note
  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; ^note
So that but one heart can we make ^note of it:
Two bosoms interchained ^note 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 lie. ^note

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 courtesy
Lye further off; in human modesty
Such seperation, 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 my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest!

Her.
With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! [they sleep. Enter Puck.

Puc.
Through the forest have I gone;
But Athenian found I ^note 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 to this kill-courtesy. ^note
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 though ^note thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

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

Hel.
O, wilt thou darkling 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 lies;
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, though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyen?—
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 through fire I will, for thy sweet sake. ^note [waking, and starting up.
Transparent Helena! Nature shews ^note art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius ^note? o, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!

Hel.
Do not say so, Lysander; say not so:
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.

Lys.
Content with Hermia? No; I ^note do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena 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'er-look
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' 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.
O, 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 the stomach ^note brings;
Or, as the heresies, that men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did ^note deceive;
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy,
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. [starting.]
Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!

Ah me, for pity! what a dream was here?
Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear:
Methought, a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat ^note smiling at his cruel prey:—
Lysander! what, remov'd? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, ^note no word?
Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear;
Speak of ^note all loves. I swoon ^note almost with fear.
No?—then I well perceive you are not nigh:
Or death, or you, I'll find immediately. [Exit.

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