Queen.
Come, sit thee down upon this flow'ry bed,
  While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk roses in thy sleek-smooth'd head,
  And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot.

Where's Peaseblossom?

Pease.

Ready.

Bot.

Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where's monsieur Cobweb?

Cob.

Ready.

Bot.

Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipt humble-bee on the top of a thistle, and good monsieur bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret your self too much in the action, monsieur; and good monsieur have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's monsieur Mustardseed?

Must.

Ready.

Bot.

Give me thy † ^noteneafe, monsieur Mustardseed; pray you leave your curtesie, good monsieur.

Must.

What's your will?

Bot.

Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks

I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair doth but tickle me I must scratch.

Queen.

What, wilt thou hear some musick, my sweet love?

Bot.

I have a reasonable good ear in musick, let us have the tongs and the bones.

Queen.

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.

Queen.

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

Queen.
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms;
Fairies be gone, and be always away:
So doth the woodbine the sweet hony-suckle
Gently entwist; the female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
O how I love thee! how I doat on thee! Enter Puck.

Ob.
Welcome, good Robin; Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity;
For meeting her of late behind the wood,
Seeking sweet savours for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her;
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers,
And that same dew which sometime on the buds

Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flouriet's eyes,
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in mild terms begg'd my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child,
Which strait 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:
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
From off the head of this Athenian swain;
That he awaking when the others do,
May all to Athens back again repair,
And think no more of this night's accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

Be as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see:
Dian's bud, or Cupid's flower,
Hath such force and blessed power.
Now my Titania, wake you my sweet Queen.

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

Ob.
There lies your love.

Queen.
How came these things to pass?
Oh how mine eyes do loath this visage now!

Ob.
Silence a while; Robin take off his head,
Titania, musick call, and strike more dead
Than common sleep. Of all these fine the sense.

Queen.
Musick, ho musick; such as charmeth sleep.

Musick still.

Puck.
When thou awak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

Ob.
Sound musick; come my Queen, take hand with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity;
And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair posterity:
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded with Theseus all in jollity.

Puck.
Fairy King attend and mark,
I do hear the morning lark.

Ob.
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.

Queen.
Come my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping here was found, [Sleepers lye still.
With these mortals on the ground. [Exeunt. [Wind horns.

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