But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befal me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

The. Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage:
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
The. Take time to pause; and, by the next
new moon,

(The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
For everlasting bond of fellowship),
Upon that day either prepare to die,
For disobedience to your father's will;
Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would:
Or on Diana's altar to protest,

For aye, austerity and single life.

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia ;-And, Lysander, yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius: Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him. E. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love; And what is mine my love shall render him: And she is mine; and all my right of her I do estate unto Demetrius.

Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia:
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted1 and inconstant man.

The. I must confess, that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke
But, being over-full of self-affairs, [thereof;
My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come;
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me;
I have some private schooling for you both.-
For you,
fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To fit your fancies to your father's will;
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
(Which by no means we may extenuate,)
To death, or to a vow of single life.-
Come, my Hippolyta; What cheer, my love?-
Demetrius, and Egeus, go along:
I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptial; and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

I Wicked.

How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

H.Belike,1 for want of rain; which I could well Beteem2 them from the tempest of mine eyes. Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Or else mis-graffed, in respect of years; Or else it stood upon the choice of friends: Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentany3 as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the colliedt night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say,-Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.

Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross;

[sighs,

As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's5 followers.

Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, I have a widow aunt, a dowager [Hermia. Of great revenue, and she hath no child: From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; And she respects me as her only son. There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us: If thou lov'st me then, Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night; And in the wood, a league without the town, Where I did meet thee once with Helena, To do observance to a morn of May, There will I stay for thee.

Her.

My good Lysander!
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow;
By his best arrow with the golden head;
By the simplicity of Venus" doves;

By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves;
And bythat firewhich burn'dtheCarthage queen,
When the false Trojan under sail was seen;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke ;-
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes
Helena.

My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.

Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O that my prayers could such affection

move.

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. Hel. None but your beauty; 'Would that fault were mine! [face, Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my Lysander and myself will fly this place.Before the time I did Lysander see, Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me; O then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turned a heaven into hell!

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: To-morrow night when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal), Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. Her. And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet; There my Lysander and myself shall meet: And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet play-fellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight. Exit Herm. Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!

[Exit Lys.

Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste:
And therefore is love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
As waggish boys in game1 themselves forswear,
So the boy love is perjur'd everywhere:
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,2
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night,
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expence:
1 Sport.
2 Eyes.

SCENE II.-THE SAME. A ROOM IN A COTTAGE. Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, and Starveling.

Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.1

Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.-Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves.

Quin. Answer, as I call you.--Nick Bottom, the weaver.

Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed.

Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gal lantly for love.

Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest:-Yet my chief hu mour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. "The raging rocks,

"With shivering shocks,
"Shall break the locks
"Of prison gates:
"And Phibbus' car
"Shall shine from far,
"And make and mar
"The foolish fates."

This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players-This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein: a lover is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flu. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.
Flu. What is Thisby? a wandering knight?
Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman;
I have a beard coming.

Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.

Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice; --Thisne, Thisne,-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear: and lady dear!

Quin. No, no: you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisby.

1 Written Hist

Obe. Tarry, rash wanton: Am not I thy lord? Tita. Then I must be thy lady: But I know When thou hast stol'n 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 steep of 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 Hippolyta, Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?

Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night,

And make him with fair Ægle break his faith, With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, Or on the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, Butwith thybrawls 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, Have every pelting1 river made so proud, That they have overborne their continents:2 The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat; and the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard: The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrain flock; The nine men's morris 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 this distemperature, we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose; And on old Hyem's chin, and icy crown, An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set: The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the 'mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which: And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension; 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.5

Tita. Set your heart at rest, The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a vot'ress 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, 4 Producing flowers unusually. ; Pago. A boy's game with nine holes in the ground

1 Petty. 2 Banks.

Marking the embarked traders on the flood; But she, being mortal, of that boy did die; And, for her sake, I do rear up her boy; And, for her sake, I will not part with him.

0. How long within this wood intend you stay? T. Perchance, till after Theseus' wedding-day. If you will patiently dance in our round, And see our moonlight 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. Tita. Not for thy kingdom. --Fairies, away: We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. [Exeunt Titania 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'st
Since once I 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.

moon;

And the imperial vot'ress 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; theherb I show'd thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again,
Ere the Leviathan can swim a league.
Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
[Exit Puck.
Obe.
Having once this juice,
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she waking looks upon,
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,)
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm off from 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 overhear 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 me.
Thou told'st me they were stolen into this wood,
And here am I, and wood1 within this wood,

1 Mad.