When I had at my pleasure taunted her, 55And she in mild terms begg’d 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.

BOTTOM Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry  30oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay.  Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

and I am such a tender  ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

BOTTOM 5Where’s Peaseblossom?

Oberon has secured the Indian boy from lovestruck Titania

Act 4 Scene 1

HERMIA 445Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day. 450Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!

LYSANDER 415He goes before me, and still dares me on. When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter-heel’d than I; I followed fast, but faster he did fly, That fallen am I in dark uneven way, 420And here will rest me.

DEMETRIUS Lysander, speak again! Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy; And then I will her charmed eye release From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.

OBERON Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight; Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog as black as Acheron, 360And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another’s way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue; Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; And sometime rail thou like Demetrius; 365And from each other look thou lead them thus, Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, 370To take from thence all error with his might, And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.

hou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.

odious savors sweet”—

This is to make an ass of me

HERMIA What, with Lysander?

HELENA I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me. I was never curst; I have no gift at all in shrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice.

HERMIA O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, 285You thief of love! What, have you come by night And stol’n my love’s heart from him?

LYSANDER What? Should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so. HERMIA

LYSANDER Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out! 265Out, loathed med’cine! O hated potion, hence!

HERMIA I understand not what you mean by this. HELENA Ay, do! Persever, counterfeit sad looks, Make mouths upon me when I turn my back, Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up; 240This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument. Your browser does not support the video tag. Tap to translate Cover Foreword Credits A1 S1 A1 S2 A2 S1

All school-days friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, 205Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 210But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So with two seeming bodies, but one heart, Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. 215And will you rent our ancient love asunder,

LYSANDER Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide— Fair Helena! Who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek’st thou me? Could not this make thee know, 190The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so?

LYSANDER You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this you know I know. And here, with all good will, with all my heart, 165In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do till my death.

HELENA 145O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent To set against me for your merriment. If you were civil and knew courtesy, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, 150But you must join in souls to mock me too? If you were men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle lady so; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. 155You both are rivals, and love Hermia;

PUCK 110Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover’s fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? 115Lord, what fools these mortals be!

As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

PUCK I took him sleeping (that is finish’d too) And the Athenian woman by his side; 40That when he wak’d, of force she must be ey’d.

TITANIA Come wait upon him; lead him to my bower. The moon methinks looks with a wat’ry eye; 175And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my lover’s tongue, bring him silently.

Do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear. Methought a serpent eat my heart away, 150And you sate smiling at his cruel prey. Lysander! What, remov’d? Lysander! Lord! What, out of hearing gone? No sound, no word? Alack, where are you? Speak, and if you hear; Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. 155No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh: Either death, or you, I’ll find immediately. Exit.

TITANIA Come wait upon him; lead him to my bower. The moon methinks looks with a wat’ry eye; 175And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my lover’s tongue, bring him silently.

Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well.  That same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devour’d  170many a gentleman of your house. I promise you your kin- dred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you of  more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.

PEASEBLOSSOM 155Hail, mortal! COBWEB Hail! MOTH Hail! MUSTARDSEED Hail! BOTTOM I cry your worships mercy, heartily. I beseech your wor- ship’s name.

Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine owe turn.

I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of me, to fright  105me, if they could; but I will not stir from this place, do  what they can. I will walk up and down here, and I will  sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. Sings.   The woosel cock so black of hue,            With orange-tawny bill, 110           The throstle with his note so true,            The wren with little quill— TITANIA Awaking. What angel wakes me from my flow’ry bed? BOTTOM Sings.

Enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass’s head.

Enter Puck, behind.

You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?

casement

“Ladies,” or  “Fair ladies, I would wish you,” or “I would request you,”  35or “I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my  life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were  pity of my life. No! I am no such thing; I am a man as  other men are”; and there indeed let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

Not a whit! I have a device to make all well. Write me a  15prologue, and let the prologue seem to say we will do no  harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not kill’d in- deed; and for the more better assurance, tell them that I  Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver. This  will put them out of fear.

I fear it, I promise you.

There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe  that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to  10kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer  you that?

Your servant shall do so.

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? 125Is’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) 130In 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!

Who will not change a raven for a dove? 115The 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, 120Reason becomes the marshal to my will, And leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook Love’s stories written in Love’s richest book.

And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena, nature shows art, 105That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

I am as ugly as a bear; 95For beasts that meet me run away for fear

The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

And here the maiden, sleeping sound, 75On the dank and dirty ground. Pretty soul, she durst not lie Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe. 80When thou wak’st, let love forbid Sleep his seat on thy eyelid. So awake when I am gone, For I must now to Oberon.

So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend. Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!

Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.

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, So that but one heart we can make of it; Two bosoms interchained with an oath, 50So then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed-room me deny; For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.

Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.

nd to speak troth I have forgot our way.

What thou seest when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true-love take; Love and languish for his sake. 30Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear When thou wak’st, it is thy dear: Wake when some vile thing is near.  

Come, now a roundel 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 rere-mice for their leathren wings 5To 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.

You spotted snakes with double tongue, 10Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen, Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong, Come not near our fairy queen. CHORUS. Philomele, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby, 15Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby. Never harm,

Lysander chases after her, abandoning Hermia.

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. 265Effect 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.

I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.

I pray thee give it me. I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, 250Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine; There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight; 255And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin,

Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.

The more you beat me, I will fawn on you. 205Use 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) 210Than to be used as you use your dog?

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 180(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.

OBERON Well; go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove Till I torment thee for this injury. My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb’rest Since once I sat upon a promontory, 150And 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 music?

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 90Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land, Hath every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretch’d his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn 95Hath rotted ere his youth attain’d a beard. The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, 100For 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, 105That rheumatic 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 Hiems’ thin and icy crown 110An 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. 115And this same progeny of evils comes

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 90Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land, Hath every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretch’d his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn 95Hath rotted ere his youth attain’d a beard. The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, 100For 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, 105That rheumatic 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 Hiems’ thin and icy crown 110An 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. 115And this same progeny of evils comes

I have forsworn his bed and company.

PUCK

Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Call’d Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he 35That frights the maidens of the villagery, Skim milk, and sometimes labor 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? 40Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck. Are not you he?

PUCK

Take heed the Queen come not within his sight; 20For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, Because that she as her attendant hath A lovely boy stolen from an Indian king; She never had so sweet a changeling. And jealous Oberon would have the child 25Knight 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 spangled starlight sheen, 30But they do square, that all their elves for fear Creep into acorn-cups, and hide them there.

For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,

cowslips

Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, 5Thorough 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. 10The cowslips tall her pensioners be, In their gold coats spots you see: Those be rubies, fairy favors, In those freckles live their savors. I must go seek some dewdrops here, 15And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I’ll be gone. Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.

Our Queen

Oberon vows to make Titania fall in love with the first things she sees when she next wakes up

Puck to go find a specific magical flower (4), so that he can bewitch Titania, and help Helena gain Demetrius’ love.

Enough; hold, or cut bow-strings.

Some of your French crowns have no hair at all; and then  80you will play barefac’d

We will meet, and there we may rehearse most ob- scenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfit; adieu. QUINCE

Well; I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it  in?

extempore

palace  wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will  we rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogg’d  85with company, and our devices known. In the meantime I  will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I  pray you fail me not.

You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a  70sweet-fac’d man; a proper man as one shall see in a sum- mer’s day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: therefore  you must needs play Pyramus.

Exeunt

The course of true love never did run smooth; 135But either it was different in blood—