Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.— So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle O, how I love thee, how I dote on thee! Enter PUCK. Obe. [Advancing.] Welcome, good Robin. sweet sight? [Exeunt Fairies. [They sleep. Seest thou this Her dotage now I do begin to pity: And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp And think no more of this night's accidents, [Touching her eyes with a herb. Be, as thou wast wont to be; Hath such force and blessèd power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. Obe. There lies your love. Tita. How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! Obe. Silence, awhile.-Robin, take off this head.- Tita. Music, ho! music! such as charmeth sleep. [Still music. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep. Obe. Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands 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 prosperity. Obe. There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be That I sleeping here was found [Exeunt. Horns sound within. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. The. Go, one of you, find out the forester ; [Exit an Attendant. Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge, when you hear.-But, soft! what nymphs are these? Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; I wonder of their being here together. The. No doubt they rose up early to observe That Hermia should give answer of her choice? The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past: Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? Lys. Pardon, my lord. The. [He and the rest kneel. I pray you all, stand up. I know you two are rival enemies : How comes this gentle concord in the world, To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity? Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, I came, with Hermia hither: our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, Without the peril of the Athenian law Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: I beg the law, the law, upon his head.— They would have stol'n away; they would, Demetrius, You of your wife, and me of my consent,— Of my consent that she should be your wife. Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither to this wood; And I in fury hither follow'd them, Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia: But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food; The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: For in the temple, by and by, with us, We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.— Come, Hippolyta. [Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turnèd into clouds. Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double. Hel. So methinks: And I have found Demetrius, like a jewel, Dem. Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think The duke was here, and bid us follow him? Her. Yea; and my father. Hel. And Hippolyta. Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple. Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow him; And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt LYS. DEM. HER. and HEL Bot. [Awaking.] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: -my next is, "Most fair Pyramus."-Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling!-God's my life! stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream,-past the wit of man to say what dream it was man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had,-but man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. SCENE II.-ATHENS. A Room in QUINCE's House. Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING. [Exit. Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet? Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported. Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred: it goes not forward, doth it? Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he. Flu. No, he hath simply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens. Quin. Yea, and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice. Flu. You must say, paragon: a paramour is, God bless us! a thing of naught. Enter SNUG. Snug. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a-day during his life; he could not have 'scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day in Pyramus, or nothing. |