That draws a sword on thee. Re-enter LYSANDER. Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on; hen I come where he calls, then he is gone. e villain is much lighter heel'd than I: ollow'd fast, but faster he did fly; at fallen am I in dark uneven way, d here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day! (Lies down.) rif but once thou show me thy grey light, find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. (Sleeps.) Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS. Puck. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot, Pack. Come hither; I am here. Dem. Nay, then thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, ever I thy face by day-light see: w, go thy way.-Faintness constraineth me measure out my length on this cold bed.day's approach look to be visited. (Lies down and sleeps.) Enter HELENA. Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours: shine, comforts, from the east; at I may back to Athens by day-light, From these, that my poor company detest:d, sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, al me a while from mine own company. (Sleeps.) Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds make up four. Here she comes, curst and sad :Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Her. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers; an no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. fre will I rest me, till the break of day. avens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! (Lies down.) (Squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye.) When thou wakest, Thou takest True delight In the sight Of thy former lady's eye: he man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. (Exit Puck.-Dem. Hel. &c. sleep. ACT IV. SCENE I.-The same. Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM, Fairies attending; OBERON behind, unseen. Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.-Where's monsieur Cobweb? Cob. Ready. Bot. Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you over-flown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's monsieur Mustard-seed? Must. Ready. Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, 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 do but tickle me, I must scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones. (eat. Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to 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. Tita. 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 peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon (arms. me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. So doth the woodbine, the sweet honeysuckle, Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! (They sleep.) OBERON advances. Enter PUCK. Obe. Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this Her dotage now I do begin to pity. sweet sight? For meeting her of late, behind the wood, (Touching her eyes with an herb.) See, as thou wast wont to see: Hath such force and blessed 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 loath his visage now! Obe. Silence, a while.-Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense. Tita. Music, ho! music; such as charmeth sleep. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep. Obe. Sound, music. (Still music.) queen, take hands with me, Come, my And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly, [Exeunt. Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, [are these? The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe The rite of May; and hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day, That Hermia should give answer of her choice? Ege. It is, my lord. (horns. The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their Horns and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, HERMIA and HELENA, wake, and start up. The. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past; Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? (He and the rest kneel to Theseus.) But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,— And now I do bethink me, so it is ;) I came with Hermia hither: our intent Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: [Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and tras Dem. These things seem small and undist guishable, Like far off mountains turned into clouds. Hel. So methinks: And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Dem. 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 As they go out, BOTTOM awakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will swer: my next is, Most fair Pyramus.-Bry ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender" Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life! stalen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most vision. I have had a dream,-past the wit of to say what dream it was:-Man is but an ass, he go about to expound this dream. Methought was-there is no man can tell what. Methought T was, and methought I had,-but man is bat patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear 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 ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing in the latter end of a play, before the duke: adventure, to make it the more gracious, I sing it after death. |