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And thy fair virtue's force (perforce) doth move me,
On the firft view to fay, to fwear, I love thee.

Bot. Methinks, miftrefs, you should have little reafon for that: and yet, to fay the truth, reafon and love keep little company together now-a-days. The more the pity, that fome honeft neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occafion.

Queen. Thou art as wife as thou art beautiful.

Bot. Not fo neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to ferve mine own turn, Queen. Out of this wood do not defire to go,

Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no.
I am a fpirit of no common rate;

The fummer ftill doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee; therefore go with me,
I'll give thee Fairies to attend on thee;
And they fhall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And fing, while thou on preffed flowers dost sleep :
And I will purge thy mortal groffness fo,
That thou shalt like an airy fpirit go."
Peafeblaffom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardsred!
SCENE III. Enter four Fairies.

1 Fai. Ready.
2 Fai. And 1.

3 Fai. And I.

4 Fai. And I, where fhall we go?

Queen. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman.
Hop in his walks, and gambole in his eyes,
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs and mulberries,
The honey-bags fteal from the humble bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arife:
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes,
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtefies.
1 Fai. Hail, mortal, hail!

2 Fai. Hail!

3 Fai. Hail!



Bot. I cry your worship's mercy heartily, I beseech your worship's name. Cob. Cobweb.

Bot. I fhall defire of you more acquaintance, good mafter Cobweb; if I cut my finger, I fhall make bold with you. Your name, honeft gentleman ?

Peafe. Peafebloom.

Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash your mother, and to mafter Peafecod your father. Good mafter Peafebloom, I fhall defire of you more acquaintance too, Your name, I beseech you, Sir?

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Muf. Muftardfeed.

Bot. Good mafter Muftardfeed, I know your parentage
well: that fame cowardly giant-like Ox-beef hath devour'd
many a gentleman of your house. I promise you, your
kindred hath made my eyes water ere now.
I defire more
of your acquaintance, good master Mustardfeed

Queen. Come, wait upon him, lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye,
And when the weeps, weeps ev'ry little flower
Lamenting fome enforced chastity.

Tie up my love's tongue, bring him filently.


SCENE IV. Enter King of Fairies folus.
Ob. I wonder if Titania be awak'd:

Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Which the muft doat on in extremity.

Enter Puck,

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Here comes my meffenger; how now, mad sprite!
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
Puck. My miftress with a monster is in love.
Near to her clofe and confecrated bower,
While the was in her dull and fleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play;
Intended for great Thefeus' nuptial day.
The fhallow't thick-fkull of that barren fort,
Who Pyramus prefented, in their fport
Forfook his fcene, and enter'd in a brake;
When I did him at this advantage take,

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An Afs's nole I fixed on his head
Anon his Thisby must be answered,

And forth my mimick comes: When they him spy,
As wild geefe that the creeping fowler eye,
Or ruffet-pated choughs, many in fort,
Rifing and cawing at the gun's report,
Sever themselves and madly fweep the sky;
So at his fight away his fellows fly,

And at our flamp here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.
Their fenfe thus weak, loft with their fears thus ftrong,
Made fenfelefs things begin to do them wrong..
For briars and thorns at their apparel fnatch,
Some fleeves, fome hats; from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left fweet Pyramus tranflated there:
When in that moment (fo it came to pass)
Titania wak'd, and ftraitway lov'd an Afs.

Ob. This falls out better than I could devife.
But haft thou yet lech'd the Athenian's eyes
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?

Puck. I took him fleeping; that is finish'd too;
And the Athenian woman by his fide,
That, when he wakes, of force fhe must be ey'd.

SCENE V. Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
Ob. Stand close, this is the fame Athenian.
Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man.
Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you fo?
Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I fhould use thee worfe,
For thou, I fear, haft giv'n me cause to curse :
If thou haft flain Lyfander in his fleep,

Being o'er fhoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.

The fun was not fo true unto the day,
As he to me. Would he have ftol'n away
From fleeping Hermia? I'll believe as foon
This whole earth may be bor'd, and that the moon
May through the center creep, and so disease
Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes.

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It cannot be but thou haft murther'd him,
So fhould a murtherer look, fo dread, fo grim.

Dem. So fhould the murther'd look, and fo fhould I
Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty:
Yet you the murthere: look as bright and clear
As yonder Venus in her glimm'ring sphere.

Her. What's this to my Lyfander? where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me ?

Dem. I'd rather give his carcafs to my hounds.
Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'ft me paft the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Haft thou flain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men !
Oh! once tell true, and even for my fake,
Durft thou have look'd upon him, being awake?
And haft thou kill'd him fleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder do so much?
An adder did it, for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou ferpent, never adder ftung.

Dem. You fpend your paffion on a mispris'd mood;
I am not guilty of Lyfander's blood,
Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.

Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
Dem. And if I could, what fhould I get therefore?
Her. A privilege never to fee me more;
And from thy hated prefence part I fo;
See me no more, whether he's dead or no.

Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein,
Here therefore for a while I will remain :
So forrow's heavinefs doth heavier grow
For debt, that bankrupt fleep doth forrow owe,
Which now in fome flight measure it will pay,
If for his Tender here I make fome stay.


[Lyes down.


Ob. What haft thou done? thou haft mistaken quite,
And laid thy love-juice on fome true love's fight:
Of thy mifprifion must perforce enfué

Some true love turn'd falfe, not a falfe turn'd true.

Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; for one man holding troth
A million fail, confounding oath on cathi,


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Ob. About the wood go fwifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens fee thou find.
All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer,..
With fighs of love that coft the fresh blood dear;
By fome illufion fee thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes against the doth appear.


Puck. I go, I go; look, mafter, how I go,
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.

Enter Puck.

Puck. Captain 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 fee?
Lord, what fools thefe mortals be!
Ob. Stand afide: the noife they make
Will caufe Demetrius to awake.


Ob. Flower of this purple dye, [Anoints Demetrius's eyes.
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth efpy,
Let her fhine as gloriously
As the Venus of the fky,
When thou wak'ft, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

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Puck. Then will two at once woo one;
That must needs be fport alone.
And those things do beft please me,
That befal prepoft'rously.


SCENE VII. Enter Lyfander and Helena. Lyf. Why fhould you think that I should woo in fcorn? Scorn and derifion never come in tears.

Look, when I vow, I weep; and, vows fo born,
In their nativity all truth appears :
How can these things in me seem scorn to you ?
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true.

Hel, You do advance your cunning more and more,
When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray!
Thefe vows are Hermia's: will you give her o'er?
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh;


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