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SCENE VII.

Enter Demetrius and Helena running.

HEL. Stay, tho' 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 fo.

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 leffer is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wherefoe'er the lies;
For the hath bleffed, and attractive, eyes.

How came her eyes fo bright? not with falt tears;
If fo, my eyes are oftner wash'd than hers:
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;

For beafts, that meet me, run away for fear.
Therefore no marvel, tho' Demetrius
Do (as a monfter) fly my prefence thus.
What wicked, and dissembling, glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here: Lyfander on the ground:
Dead or afleep? I fee no blood, no wound:
Lyfander, if you live, good Sir, awake.

Lys. And run thro' fire I will, for thy sweet sake.

Tranfparent Helen, nature here fhews art,
That through thy bofom makes me fee thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perifh on my sword!

HEL. Do not fay fo, Lyfander, fay not so;
What tho' he love your Hermia, lord, what tho'?

[Waking.

Yet Hermia ftill loves you; then be content.

Lys. Content with Hermia? no: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent ;
Not Hermia, but Helen now I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason fway'd;
And reafon fays, you are the worthier maid.
Things, growing, are not ripe until their feafon;
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'erlook
Love's stories, written in love's richest book.
HEL. Wherefore was I to this keen mock'ry 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 infufficiency?

Good troth, you do me wrong; good footh, you do,
In fuch difdainful manner me to woo :

But fare you well. Perforce I must confess,

I thought you lord of more true gentleness;
Oh, that a lady of one man refus'd,

Should of another therefore be abus'd!

[Exit.

Lys. She fees not Hermia? Hermia, fleep thou there;

And never may'st thou come Lyfander near;
For as a furfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Or as the herefies, that men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did deceive:

So thou, my.furfeit and my heresie,

Of all be hated, but the most of me!

And all my pow'rs address your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her knight!

HER. Help me, Lyfander, help me! do thy best
To pluck this crawling ferpent from my breast:
Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here ?
Lyfander, look, how I do quake with fear;
Me-thought, a ferpent eat my heart away;
And you fat fmiling at his cruel prey.
Lyfander! what remov'd? Lyfander, lord!
What, out of hearing gone? no found, no word?
Alack, where are you? Speak, and if you hear,
Speak, of all loves; I fwoon almoft, with fear.
No? -then I well perceive, you are not nigh:
Or death, or you, I'll find immediately.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The wood.

[Exit.

ས [Exit.

Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. The queen of fairies lying asleep.

ARE we all met?

BOTTOM.

QUIN. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green, plot, fhall be our stage, this hawthorn-brake our tyring houfe, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.

BOT. Peter Quince

QUIN. What fay'st thou, bully Bottom?

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

SNOUT. By'rlaken, a parlous fear.

STAR. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

BOT. Not a whit, I have a device to make all well; write me a prologue, and let the prologue feem to fay, we will do no harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not kill'd indeed; and for more better affurance tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver; this will put them out of fear.

QUIN. Well, we will have fuch a prologue, and it shall. be written in eight and fix.

BOT. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

SNOUT. Will not the ladies be afraid of the lion?

STAR. I fear it, I promise you.

BOT. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves; to bring in, God fhield us, a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living, and we ought to look to it.

SNOUT. Therefore another prologue must tell, he is not a lion.

BOT. Nay you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must fpeak through, faying thus, or to the fame defect; ladies, or fair ladies, I would with you, or I would request you, or 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 fuch thing, I am a man as VOL. I.

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other men are; and there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

SNUG. Well, it shall be fo; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber; for, you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.

SNUG. Doth the moon fhine that night we play our play? BOT. A kalendar, a kalendar! look in the almanack; find out moon-fhine, find out moon-shine.

QUIN. Yes, it doth fhine that night.

Bor. Why then you may leave a cafement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement.

QUIN. Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and fay, he comes to disfigure, or to prefent, the perfon of moon-fhine. Then there is another thing; we must have a wall in the great chamber, for Pyramus and Thisby (fays the story) did talk thro' the chink of a wall..

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

Bor. Some man or other must present wall; and let hirm have some plaister, or fome lome, or some rough-cast about him, to fignify wall: Or let him hold his fingers thus; and through the cranny thall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.

QUIN. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit down every mother's fon, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin; when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake; and fo every one according to his cue.

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Pues. What hempen home-spuns have we fwaggering. here,

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