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Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
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Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
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,
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, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
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In
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, residents of Athens mix with fairies from a local forest, with comic results. In the city, Theseus, Duke of Athens, is to marry Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons. Bottom the weaver and his friends rehearse in the woods a play they hope to stage for the wedding celebrations.
Four young Athenians are in a romantic tangle. Lysander and Demetrius love Hermia; she loves Lysander and her friend Helena loves Demetrius. Hermia’s father, Egeus, commands Hermia to marry Demetrius, and Theseus supports the father’s right. All four young Athenians end up in the woods, where Robin Goodfellow, who serves the fairy king Oberon, puts flower juice on the eyes of Lysander, and then Demetrius, unintentionally causing both to love Helena. Oberon, who is quarreling with his wife, Titania, uses the flower juice on her eyes. She falls in love with Bottom, who now, thanks to Robin Goodfellow, wears an ass’s head.
As the lovers sleep, Robin Goodfellow restores Lysander’s love for Hermia, so that now each young woman is matched with the man she loves. Oberon disenchants Titania and removes Bottom’s ass’s head. The two young couples join the royal couple in getting married, and Bottom rejoins his friends to perform the play.
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
Theseus
,
Hippolyta
,
and
Philostrate
,
with
others
.
Now
,
fair
Hippolyta
,
our
nuptial
hour
Draws
on
apace
.
Four
happy
days
bring
in
Another
moon
.
But
,
O
,
methinks
how
slow
This
old
moon
wanes
!
She
lingers
my
desires
Like
to
a
stepdame
or
a
dowager
Long
withering
out
a
young
man’s
revenue
.
Four
days
will
quickly
steep
themselves
in
night
;
Four
nights
will
quickly
dream
away
the
time
;
And
then
the
moon
,
like
to
a
silver
bow
New
-bent
in
heaven
,
shall
behold
the
night
Of
our
solemnities
.
Go
,
Philostrate
,
Stir
up
the
Athenian
youth
to
merriments
.
Awake
the
pert
and
nimble
spirit
of
mirth
.
Turn
melancholy
forth
to
funerals
;
The
pale
companion
is
not
for
our
pomp
.
Philostrate
exits
.
Hippolyta
,
I
wooed
thee
with
my
sword
And
won
thy
love
doing
thee
injuries
,
But
I
will
wed
thee
in
another
key
,
With
pomp
,
with
triumph
,
and
with
reveling
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
Enter
Egeus
and
his
daughter
Hermia
,
and
Lysander
and
Demetrius
.
Happy
be
Theseus
,
our
renownèd
duke
!
Thanks
,
good
Egeus
.
What’s
the
news
with
thee
?
Full
of
vexation
come
I
,
with
complaint
Against
my
child
,
my
daughter
Hermia
.
—
Stand
forth
,
Demetrius
.
—
My
noble
lord
,
This
man
hath
my
consent
to
marry
her
.
—
Stand
forth
,
Lysander
.
—
And
,
my
gracious
duke
,
This
man
hath
bewitched
the
bosom
of
my
child
.
—
Thou
,
thou
,
Lysander
,
thou
hast
given
her
rhymes
And
interchanged
love
tokens
with
my
child
.
Thou
hast
by
moonlight
at
her
window
sung
With
feigning
voice
verses
of
feigning
love
And
stol’n
the
impression
of
her
fantasy
With
bracelets
of
thy
hair
,
rings
,
gauds
,
conceits
,
Knacks
,
trifles
,
nosegays
,
sweetmeats
—
messengers
Of
strong
prevailment
in
unhardened
youth
.
With
cunning
hast
thou
filched
my
daughter’s
heart
,
Turned
her
obedience
(
which
is
due
to
me
)
To
stubborn
harshness
.
—
And
,
my
gracious
duke
,
Be
it
so
she
will
not
here
before
your
Grace
Consent
to
marry
with
Demetrius
,
I
beg
the
ancient
privilege
of
Athens
:
As
she
is
mine
,
I
may
dispose
of
her
,
Which
shall
be
either
to
this
gentleman
Or
to
her
death
,
according
to
our
law
Immediately
provided
in
that
case
.
What
say
you
,
Hermia
?
Be
advised
,
fair
maid
.
To
you
,
your
father
should
be
as
a
god
,
One
that
composed
your
beauties
,
yea
,
and
one
ACT 1. SC. 1
To
whom
you
are
but
as
a
form
in
wax
By
him
imprinted
,
and
within
his
power
To
leave
the
figure
or
disfigure
it
.
Demetrius
is
a
worthy
gentleman
.
So
is
Lysander
.
In
himself
he
is
,
But
in
this
kind
,
wanting
your
father’s
voice
,
The
other
must
be
held
the
worthier
.
I
would
my
father
looked
but
with
my
eyes
.
Rather
your
eyes
must
with
his
judgment
look
.
I
do
entreat
your
Grace
to
pardon
me
.
I
know
not
by
what
power
I
am
made
bold
,
Nor
how
it
may
concern
my
modesty
In
such
a
presence
here
to
plead
my
thoughts
;
But
I
beseech
your
Grace
that
I
may
know
The
worst
that
may
befall
me
in
this
case
If
I
refuse
to
wed
Demetrius
.
Either
to
die
the
death
,
or
to
abjure
Forever
the
society
of
men
.
Therefore
,
fair
Hermia
,
question
your
desires
,
Know
of
your
youth
,
examine
well
your
blood
,
Whether
(
if
you
yield
not
to
your
father’s
choice
)
You
can
endure
the
livery
of
a
nun
,
For
aye
to
be
in
shady
cloister
mewed
,
To
live
a
barren
sister
all
your
life
,
Chanting
faint
hymns
to
the
cold
fruitless
moon
.
Thrice-blessèd
they
that
master
so
their
blood
To
undergo
such
maiden
pilgrimage
,
But
earthlier
happy
is
the
rose
distilled
Than
that
which
,
withering
on
the
virgin
thorn
,
Grows
,
lives
,
and
dies
in
single
blessedness
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
So
will
I
grow
,
so
live
,
so
die
,
my
lord
,
Ere
I
will
yield
my
virgin
patent
up
Unto
his
Lordship
lordship
whose
unwishèd
yoke
My
soul
consents
not
to
give
sovereignty
.
Take
time
to
pause
,
and
by
the
next
new
moon
(
The
sealing
day
betwixt
my
love
and
me
For
everlasting
bond
of
fellowship
)
,
Upon
that
day
either
prepare
to
die
For
disobedience
to
your
father’s
will
,
Or
else
to
wed
Demetrius
,
as
he
would
,
Or
on
Diana’s
altar
to
protest
For
aye
austerity
and
single
life
.
Relent
,
sweet
Hermia
,
and
,
Lysander
,
yield
Thy
crazèd
title
to
my
certain
right
.
You
have
her
father’s
love
,
Demetrius
.
Let
me
have
Hermia’s
.
Do
you
marry
him
.
Scornful
Lysander
,
true
,
he
hath
my
love
;
And
what
is
mine
my
love
shall
render
him
.
And
she
is
mine
,
and
all
my
right
of
her
I
do
estate
unto
Demetrius
.
,
to
Theseus
I
am
,
my
lord
,
as
well
derived
as
he
,
As
well
possessed
.
My
love
is
more
than
his
;
My
fortunes
every
way
as
fairly
ranked
(
If
not
with
vantage
)
as
Demetrius’
;
And
(
which
is
more
than
all
these
boasts
can
be
)
I
am
beloved
of
beauteous
Hermia
.
Why
should
not
I
then
prosecute
my
right
?
Demetrius
,
I’ll
avouch
it
to
his
head
,
Made
love
to
Nedar’s
daughter
,
Helena
,
And
won
her
soul
;
and
she
,
sweet
lady
,
dotes
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
Devoutly
dotes
,
dotes
in
idolatry
,
Upon
this
spotted
and
inconstant
man
.
I
must
confess
that
I
have
heard
so
much
,
And
with
Demetrius
thought
to
have
spoke
thereof
;
But
,
being
overfull
of
self-affairs
,
My
mind
did
lose
it
.
—
But
,
Demetrius
,
come
,
And
come
,
Egeus
;
you
shall
go
with
me
.
I
have
some
private
schooling
for
you
both
.
—
For
you
,
fair
Hermia
,
look
you
arm
yourself
To
fit
your
fancies
to
your
father’s
will
,
Or
else
the
law
of
Athens
yields
you
up
(
Which
by
no
means
we
may
extenuate
)
To
death
or
to
a
vow
of
single
life
.
—
Come
,
my
Hippolyta
.
What
cheer
,
my
love
?
—
Demetrius
and
Egeus
,
go
along
.
I
must
employ
you
in
some
business
Against
our
nuptial
,
and
confer
with
you
Of
something
nearly
that
concerns
yourselves
.
With
duty
and
desire
we
follow
you
.
All
but
Hermia
and
Lysander
exit
.
How
now
,
my
love
?
Why
is
your
cheek
so
pale
?
How
chance
the
roses
there
do
fade
so
fast
?
Belike
for
want
of
rain
,
which
I
could
well
Beteem
them
from
the
tempest
of
my
eyes
.
Ay
me
!
For
aught
that
I
could
ever
read
,
Could
ever
hear
by
tale
or
history
,
The
course
of
true
love
never
did
run
smooth
.
But
either
it
was
different
in
blood
—
O
cross
!
Too
high
to
be
enthralled
to
low
.
Or
else
misgraffèd
in
respect
of
years
—
ACT 1. SC. 1
O
spite
!
Too
old
to
be
engaged
to
young
.
Or
else
it
stood
upon
the
choice
of
friends
—
O
hell
,
to
choose
love
by
another’s
eyes
!
Or
,
if
there
were
a
sympathy
in
choice
,
War
,
death
,
or
sickness
did
lay
siege
to
it
,
Making
it
momentany
as
a
sound
,
Swift
as
a
shadow
,
short
as
any
dream
,
Brief
as
the
lightning
in
the
collied
night
,
That
,
in
a
spleen
,
unfolds
both
heaven
and
Earth
earth
,
And
,
ere
a
man
hath
power
to
say
Behold
!
The
jaws
of
darkness
do
devour
it
up
.
So
quick
bright
things
come
to
confusion
.
If
then
true
lovers
have
been
ever
crossed
,
It
stands
as
an
edict
in
destiny
.
Then
let
us
teach
our
trial
patience
Because
it
is
a
customary
cross
,
As
due
to
love
as
thoughts
and
dreams
and
sighs
,
Wishes
and
tears
,
poor
fancy’s
followers
.
A
good
persuasion
.
Therefore
,
hear
me
,
Hermia
:
I
have
a
widow
aunt
,
a
dowager
Of
great
revenue
,
and
she
hath
no
child
.
From
Athens
is
her
house
remote
seven
leagues
,
And
she
respects
me
as
her
only
son
.
There
,
gentle
Hermia
,
may
I
marry
thee
;
And
to
that
place
the
sharp
Athenian
law
Cannot
pursue
us
.
If
thou
lovest
me
,
then
Steal
forth
thy
father’s
house
tomorrow
night
,
And
in
the
wood
a
league
without
the
town
(
Where
I
did
meet
thee
once
with
Helena
To
do
observance
to
a
morn
of
May
)
,
There
will
I
stay
for
thee
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
My
good
Lysander
,
I
swear
to
thee
by
Cupid’s
strongest
bow
,
By
his
best
arrow
with
the
golden
head
,
By
the
simplicity
of
Venus’
doves
,
By
that
which
knitteth
souls
and
prospers
loves
,
And
by
that
fire
which
burned
the
Carthage
queen
When
the
false
Trojan
under
sail
was
seen
,
By
all
the
vows
that
ever
men
have
broke
(
In
number
more
than
ever
women
spoke
)
,
In
that
same
place
thou
hast
appointed
me
,
Tomorrow
truly
will
I
meet
with
thee
.
Keep
promise
,
love
.
Look
,
here
comes
Helena
.
Enter
Helena
.
Godspeed
,
fair
Helena
.
Whither
away
?
Call
you
me
fair
?
That
fair
again
unsay
.
Demetrius
loves
your
fair
.
O
happy
fair
!
Your
eyes
are
lodestars
and
your
tongue’s
sweet
air
More
tunable
than
lark
to
shepherd’s
ear
When
wheat
is
green
,
when
hawthorn
buds
appear
.
Sickness
is
catching
.
O
,
were
favor
so
!
Yours
would
I
catch
,
fair
Hermia
,
ere
I
go
.
My
ear
should
catch
your
voice
,
my
eye
your
eye
;
My
tongue
should
catch
your
tongue’s
sweet
melody
.
Were
the
world
mine
,
Demetrius
being
bated
,
The
rest
I’d
give
to
be
to
you
translated
.
O
,
teach
me
how
you
look
and
with
what
art
You
sway
the
motion
of
Demetrius’
heart
!
I
frown
upon
him
,
yet
he
loves
me
still
.
O
,
that
your
frowns
would
teach
my
smiles
such
skill
!
ACT 1. SC. 1
I
give
him
curses
,
yet
he
gives
me
love
.
O
,
that
my
prayers
could
such
affection
move
!
The
more
I
hate
,
the
more
he
follows
me
.
The
more
I
love
,
the
more
he
hateth
me
.
His
folly
,
Helena
,
is
no
fault
of
mine
.
None
but
your
beauty
.
Would
that
fault
were
mine
!
Take
comfort
:
he
no
more
shall
see
my
face
.
Lysander
and
myself
will
fly
this
place
.
Before
the
time
I
did
Lysander
see
Seemed
Athens
as
a
paradise
to
me
.
O
,
then
,
what
graces
in
my
love
do
dwell
That
he
hath
turned
a
heaven
unto
a
hell
!
Helen
,
to
you
our
minds
we
will
unfold
.
Tomorrow
night
when
Phoebe
doth
behold
Her
silver
visage
in
the
wat’ry
glass
,
Decking
with
liquid
pearl
the
bladed
grass
(
A
time
that
lovers’
flights
doth
still
conceal
)
,
Through
Athens’
gates
have
we
devised
to
steal
.
And
in
the
wood
where
often
you
and
I
Upon
faint
primrose
beds
were
wont
to
lie
,
Emptying
our
bosoms
of
their
counsel
sweet
,
There
my
Lysander
and
myself
shall
meet
,
And
thence
from
Athens
turn
away
our
eyes
To
seek
new
friends
and
stranger
companies
.
Farewell
,
sweet
playfellow
.
Pray
thou
for
us
,
And
good
luck
grant
thee
thy
Demetrius
.
—
ACT 1. SC. 1
Keep
word
,
Lysander
.
We
must
starve
our
sight
From
lovers’
food
till
morrow
deep
midnight
.
I
will
,
my
Hermia
.
Hermia
exits
.
Helena
,
adieu
.
As
you
on
him
,
Demetrius
dote
on
you
!
Lysander
exits
.
How
happy
some
o’er
other
some
can
be
!
Through
Athens
I
am
thought
as
fair
as
she
.
But
what
of
that
?
Demetrius
thinks
not
so
.
He
will
not
know
what
all
but
he
do
know
.
And
,
as
he
errs
,
doting
on
Hermia’s
eyes
,
So
I
,
admiring
of
his
qualities
.
Things
base
and
vile
,
holding
no
quantity
,
Love
can
transpose
to
form
and
dignity
.
Love
looks
not
with
the
eyes
but
with
the
mind
;
And
therefore
is
winged
Cupid
painted
blind
.
Nor
hath
Love’s
mind
of
any
judgment
taste
.
Wings
,
and
no
eyes
,
figure
unheedy
haste
.
And
therefore
is
Love
said
to
be
a
child
Because
in
choice
he
is
so
oft
beguiled
.
As
waggish
boys
in
game
themselves
forswear
,
So
the
boy
Love
is
perjured
everywhere
.
For
,
ere
Demetrius
looked
on
Hermia’s
eyne
,
He
hailed
down
oaths
that
he
was
only
mine
;
And
when
this
hail
some
heat
from
Hermia
felt
,
So
he
dissolved
,
and
show’rs
of
oaths
did
melt
.
I
will
go
tell
him
of
fair
Hermia’s
flight
.
Then
to
the
wood
will
he
tomorrow
night
Pursue
her
.
And
,
for
this
intelligence
If
I
have
thanks
,
it
is
a
dear
expense
.
But
herein
mean
I
to
enrich
my
pain
,
To
have
his
sight
thither
and
back
again
.
She
exits
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Quince
the
carpenter
,
and
Snug
the
joiner
,
and
Bottom
the
weaver
,
and
Flute
the
bellows-mender
,
and
Snout
the
tinker
,
and
Starveling
the
tailor
.
Is
all
our
company
here
?
You
were
best
to
call
them
generally
,
man
by
man
,
according
to
the
scrip
.
Here
is
the
scroll
of
every
man’s
name
which
is
thought
fit
,
through
all
Athens
,
to
play
in
our
interlude
before
the
Duke
and
the
Duchess
on
his
wedding
day
at
night
.
First
,
good
Peter
Quince
,
say
what
the
play
treats
on
,
then
read
the
names
of
the
actors
,
and
so
grow
to
a
point
.
Marry
,
our
play
is
The
most
lamentable
comedy
and
most
cruel
death
of
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
.
A
very
good
piece
of
work
,
I
assure
you
,
and
a
merry
.
Now
,
good
Peter
Quince
,
call
forth
your
actors
by
the
scroll
.
Masters
,
spread
yourselves
.
Answer
as
I
call
you
.
Nick
Bottom
,
the
weaver
.
Ready
.
Name
what
part
I
am
for
,
and
proceed
.
You
,
Nick
Bottom
,
are
set
down
for
Pyramus
.
What
is
Pyramus
—
a
lover
or
a
tyrant
?
A
lover
that
kills
himself
most
gallant
for
love
.
That
will
ask
some
tears
in
the
true
performing
of
it
.
If
I
do
it
,
let
the
audience
look
to
their
eyes
.
I
will
move
storms
;
I
will
condole
in
some
measure
.
To
the
rest
.
—
Yet
my
chief
humor
is
for
a
tyrant
.
I
could
play
Ercles
rarely
,
or
a
part
to
tear
a
cat
in
,
to
make
all
split
:
The
raging
rocks
And
shivering
shocks
Shall
break
the
locks
ACT 1. SC. 2
Of
prison
gates
.
And
Phibbus’
car
Shall
shine
from
far
And
make
and
mar
The
foolish
Fates
.
This
was
lofty
.
Now
name
the
rest
of
the
players
.
This
is
Ercles’
vein
,
a
tyrant’s
vein
.
A
lover
is
more
condoling
.
Francis
Flute
,
the
bellows-mender
.
Here
,
Peter
Quince
.
Flute
,
you
must
take
Thisbe
on
you
.
What
is
Thisbe
—
a
wand’ring
knight
?
It
is
the
lady
that
Pyramus
must
love
.
Nay
,
faith
,
let
not
me
play
a
woman
.
I
have
a
beard
coming
.
That’s
all
one
.
You
shall
play
it
in
a
mask
,
and
you
may
speak
as
small
as
you
will
.
An
I
may
hide
my
face
,
let
me
play
Thisbe
too
.
I’ll
speak
in
a
monstrous
little
voice
:
Thisne
,
Thisne
!
—
Ah
Pyramus
,
my
lover
dear
!
Thy
Thisbe
dear
and
lady
dear
!
No
,
no
,
you
must
play
Pyramus
—
and
,
Flute
,
you
Thisbe
.
Well
,
proceed
.
Robin
Starveling
,
the
tailor
.
Here
,
Peter
Quince
.
Robin
Starveling
,
you
must
play
Thisbe’s
mother
.
—
Tom
Snout
,
the
tinker
.
Here
,
Peter
Quince
.
You
,
Pyramus’
father
.
—
Myself
,
Thisbe’s
father
.
—
Snug
the
joiner
,
you
the
lion’s
part
.
—
And
I
hope
here
is
a
play
fitted
.
Have
you
the
lion’s
part
written
?
Pray
you
,
if
it
be
,
give
it
me
,
for
I
am
slow
of
study
.
You
may
do
it
extempore
,
for
it
is
nothing
but
roaring
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Let
me
play
the
lion
too
.
I
will
roar
that
I
will
do
any
man’s
heart
good
to
hear
me
.
I
will
roar
that
I
will
make
the
Duke
say
Let
him
roar
again
.
Let
him
roar
again
!
An
you
should
do
it
too
terribly
,
you
would
fright
the
Duchess
and
the
ladies
that
they
would
shriek
,
and
that
were
enough
to
hang
us
all
.
That
would
hang
us
,
every
mother’s
son
.
I
grant
you
,
friends
,
if
you
should
fright
the
ladies
out
of
their
wits
,
they
would
have
no
more
discretion
but
to
hang
us
.
But
I
will
aggravate
my
voice
so
that
I
will
roar
you
as
gently
as
any
sucking
dove
.
I
will
roar
you
an
’twere
any
nightingale
.
You
can
play
no
part
but
Pyramus
,
for
Pyramus
is
a
sweet-faced
man
,
a
proper
man
as
one
shall
see
in
a
summer’s
day
,
a
most
lovely
gentlemanlike
man
.
Therefore
you
must
needs
play
Pyramus
.
Well
,
I
will
undertake
it
.
What
beard
were
I
best
to
play
it
in
?
Why
,
what
you
will
.
I
will
discharge
it
in
either
your
straw-color
beard
,
your
orange-tawny
beard
,
your
purple-in-grain
beard
,
or
your
French-crown-color
beard
,
your
perfit
yellow
.
Some
of
your
French
crowns
have
no
hair
at
all
,
and
then
you
will
play
barefaced
.
But
,
masters
,
here
are
your
parts
,
giving
out
the
parts
,
and
I
am
to
entreat
you
,
request
you
,
and
desire
you
,
to
con
them
by
tomorrow
night
and
meet
me
in
the
palace
wood
,
a
mile
without
the
town
,
by
moonlight
.
There
will
we
rehearse
,
for
if
we
meet
in
the
city
,
we
shall
be
dogged
with
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
.
We
will
meet
,
and
there
we
may
rehearse
ACT 1. SC. 2
most
obscenely
and
courageously
.
Take
pains
.
Be
perfit
.
Adieu
.
At
the
Duke’s
Oak
we
meet
.
Enough
.
Hold
,
or
cut
bowstrings
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
a
Fairy
at
one
door
and
Robin
Goodfellow
at
another
.
How
now
,
spirit
?
Whither
wander
you
?
Over
hill
,
over
dale
,
Thorough
bush
,
thorough
brier
,
Over
park
,
over
pale
,
Thorough
flood
,
thorough
fire
;
I
do
wander
everywhere
,
Swifter
than
the
moon’s
sphere
.
And
I
serve
the
Fairy
Queen
,
To
dew
her
orbs
upon
the
green
.
The
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
And
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
.
The
King
doth
keep
his
revels
here
tonight
.
Take
heed
the
Queen
come
not
within
his
sight
,
ACT 2. SC. 1
For
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
Knight
of
his
train
,
to
trace
the
forests
wild
.
But
she
perforce
withholds
the
lovèd
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
,
But
they
do
square
,
that
all
their
elves
for
fear
Creep
into
acorn
cups
and
hide
them
there
.
Either
I
mistake
your
shape
and
making
quite
,
Or
else
you
are
that
shrewd
and
knavish
sprite
Called
Robin
Goodfellow
.
Are
not
you
he
That
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
?
Those
that
Hobgoblin
call
you
,
and
sweet
Puck
,
You
do
their
work
,
and
they
shall
have
good
luck
.
Are
not
you
he
?
Thou
speakest
aright
.
I
am
that
merry
wanderer
of
the
night
.
I
jest
to
Oberon
and
make
him
smile
When
I
a
fat
and
bean-fed
horse
beguile
,
Neighing
in
likeness
of
a
filly
foal
.
And
sometime
lurk
I
in
a
gossip’s
bowl
In
very
likeness
of
a
roasted
crab
,
And
,
when
she
drinks
,
against
her
lips
I
bob
And
on
her
withered
dewlap
pour
the
ale
.
The
wisest
aunt
,
telling
the
saddest
tale
,
Sometime
for
three-foot
stool
mistaketh
me
;
ACT 2. SC. 1
Then
slip
I
from
her
bum
,
down
topples
she
,
And
Tailor
!
cries
,
and
falls
into
a
cough
,
And
then
the
whole
choir
hold
their
hips
and
loffe
And
waxen
in
their
mirth
and
neeze
and
swear
A
merrier
hour
was
never
wasted
there
.
But
room
,
fairy
.
Here
comes
Oberon
.
And
here
my
mistress
.
Would
that
he
were
gone
!
Enter
Oberon
the
King
of
Fairies
at
one
door
,
with
his
train
,
and
Titania
the
Queen
at
another
,
with
hers
.
Ill
met
by
moonlight
,
proud
Titania
.
What
,
jealous
Oberon
?
Fairies
,
skip
hence
.
I
have
forsworn
his
bed
and
company
.
Tarry
,
rash
wanton
.
Am
not
I
thy
lord
?
Then
I
must
be
thy
lady
.
But
I
know
When
thou
hast
stolen
away
from
Fairyland
And
in
the
shape
of
Corin
sat
all
day
Playing
on
pipes
of
corn
and
versing
love
To
amorous
Phillida
.
Why
art
thou
here
,
Come
from
the
farthest
steep
of
India
,
But
that
,
forsooth
,
the
bouncing
Amazon
,
Your
buskined
mistress
and
your
warrior
love
,
To
Theseus
must
be
wedded
,
and
you
come
To
give
their
bed
joy
and
prosperity
?
How
canst
thou
thus
for
shame
,
Titania
,
Glance
at
my
credit
with
Hippolyta
,
Knowing
I
know
thy
love
to
Theseus
?
Didst
not
thou
lead
him
through
the
glimmering
night
From
Perigouna
,
whom
he
ravishèd
,
ACT 2. SC. 1
And
make
him
with
fair
Aegles
break
his
faith
,
With
Ariadne
and
Antiopa
?
These
are
the
forgeries
of
jealousy
;
And
never
,
since
the
middle
summer’s
spring
,
Met
we
on
hill
,
in
dale
,
forest
,
or
mead
,
By
pavèd
fountain
or
by
rushy
brook
,
Or
in
the
beachèd
margent
of
the
sea
,
To
dance
our
ringlets
to
the
whistling
wind
,
But
with
thy
brawls
thou
hast
disturbed
our
sport
.
Therefore
the
winds
,
piping
to
us
in
vain
,
As
in
revenge
have
sucked
up
from
the
sea
Contagious
fogs
,
which
,
falling
in
the
land
,
Hath
every
pelting
river
made
so
proud
That
they
have
overborne
their
continents
.
The
ox
hath
therefore
stretched
his
yoke
in
vain
,
The
plowman
lost
his
sweat
,
and
the
green
corn
Hath
rotted
ere
his
youth
attained
a
beard
.
The
fold
stands
empty
in
the
drownèd
field
,
And
crows
are
fatted
with
the
murrain
flock
.
The
nine-men’s-morris
is
filled
up
with
mud
,
And
the
quaint
mazes
in
the
wanton
green
,
For
lack
of
tread
,
are
undistinguishable
.
The
human
mortals
want
their
winter
here
.
No
night
is
now
with
hymn
or
carol
blessed
.
Therefore
the
moon
,
the
governess
of
floods
,
Pale
in
her
anger
,
washes
all
the
air
,
That
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
An
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
mazèd
world
ACT 2. SC. 1
By
their
increase
now
knows
not
which
is
which
.
And
this
same
progeny
of
evils
comes
From
our
debate
,
from
our
dissension
;
We
are
their
parents
and
original
.
Do
you
amend
it
,
then
.
It
lies
in
you
.
Why
should
Titania
cross
her
Oberon
?
I
do
but
beg
a
little
changeling
boy
To
be
my
henchman
.
Set
your
heart
at
rest
:
The
Fairyland
buys
not
the
child
of
me
.
His
mother
was
a
vot’ress
of
my
order
,
And
in
the
spicèd
Indian
air
by
night
Full
often
hath
she
gossiped
by
my
side
And
sat
with
me
on
Neptune’s
yellow
sands
,
Marking
th’
embarkèd
traders
on
the
flood
,
When
we
have
laughed
to
see
the
sails
conceive
And
grow
big-bellied
with
the
wanton
wind
;
Which
she
,
with
pretty
and
with
swimming
gait
,
Following
(
her
womb
then
rich
with
my
young
squire
)
,
Would
imitate
and
sail
upon
the
land
To
fetch
me
trifles
and
return
again
,
As
from
a
voyage
,
rich
with
merchandise
.
But
she
,
being
mortal
,
of
that
boy
did
die
,
And
for
her
sake
do
I
rear
up
her
boy
,
And
for
her
sake
I
will
not
part
with
him
.
How
long
within
this
wood
intend
you
stay
?
Perchance
till
after
Theseus’
wedding
day
.
If
you
will
patiently
dance
in
our
round
And
see
our
moonlight
revels
,
go
with
us
.
If
not
,
shun
me
,
and
I
will
spare
your
haunts
.
Give
me
that
boy
and
I
will
go
with
thee
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Not
for
thy
fairy
kingdom
.
Fairies
,
away
.
We
shall
chide
downright
if
I
longer
stay
.
Titania
and
her
fairies
exit
.
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
And
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
.
I
remember
.
That
very
time
I
saw
(
but
thou
couldst
not
)
,
Flying
between
the
cold
moon
and
the
Earth
earth
,
Cupid
all
armed
.
A
certain
aim
he
took
At
a
fair
vestal
thronèd
by
the
west
,
And
loosed
his
love-shaft
smartly
from
his
bow
As
it
should
pierce
a
hundred
thousand
hearts
.
But
I
might
see
young
Cupid’s
fiery
shaft
Quenched
in
the
chaste
beams
of
the
wat’ry
moon
,
And
the
imperial
vot’ress
passèd
on
In
maiden
meditation
,
fancy-free
.
Yet
marked
I
where
the
bolt
of
Cupid
fell
.
It
fell
upon
a
little
western
flower
,
Before
,
milk-white
,
now
purple
with
love’s
wound
,
And
maidens
call
it
love-in-idleness
.
Fetch
me
that
flower
;
the
herb
I
showed
thee
once
.
The
juice
of
it
on
sleeping
eyelids
laid
Will
make
or
man
or
woman
madly
dote
Upon
the
next
live
creature
that
it
sees
.
Fetch
me
this
herb
,
and
be
thou
here
again
Ere
the
leviathan
can
swim
a
league
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
I’ll
put
a
girdle
round
about
the
Earth
earth
In
forty
minutes
.
He
exits
.
Having
once
this
juice
,
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
(
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
.
And
ere
I
take
this
charm
from
off
her
sight
(
As
I
can
take
it
with
another
herb
)
,
I’ll
make
her
render
up
her
page
to
me
.
But
who
comes
here
?
I
am
invisible
,
And
I
will
overhear
their
conference
.
Enter
Demetrius
,
Helena
following
him
.
I
love
thee
not
;
therefore
pursue
me
not
.
Where
is
Lysander
and
fair
Hermia
?
The
one
I’ll
stay
;
the
other
stayeth
me
.
Thou
told’st
me
they
were
stol’n
unto
this
wood
,
And
here
am
I
,
and
wood
within
this
wood
Because
I
cannot
meet
my
Hermia
.
Hence
,
get
thee
gone
,
and
follow
me
no
more
.
You
draw
me
,
you
hard-hearted
adamant
!
But
yet
you
draw
not
iron
,
for
my
heart
Is
true
as
steel
.
Leave
you
your
power
to
draw
,
And
I
shall
have
no
power
to
follow
you
.
Do
I
entice
you
?
Do
I
speak
you
fair
?
Or
rather
do
I
not
in
plainest
truth
Tell
you
I
do
not
,
nor
I
cannot
love
you
?
And
even
for
that
do
I
love
you
the
more
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
I
am
your
spaniel
,
and
,
Demetrius
,
The
more
you
beat
me
I
will
fawn
on
you
.
Use
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
)
Than
to
be
usèd
as
you
use
your
dog
?
Tempt
not
too
much
the
hatred
of
my
spirit
,
For
I
am
sick
when
I
do
look
on
thee
.
And
I
am
sick
when
I
look
not
on
you
.
You
do
impeach
your
modesty
too
much
To
leave
the
city
and
commit
yourself
Into
the
hands
of
one
that
loves
you
not
,
To
trust
the
opportunity
of
night
And
the
ill
counsel
of
a
desert
place
With
the
rich
worth
of
your
virginity
.
Your
virtue
is
my
privilege
.
For
that
It
is
not
night
when
I
do
see
your
face
,
Therefore
I
think
I
am
not
in
the
night
.
Nor
doth
this
wood
lack
worlds
of
company
,
For
you
,
in
my
respect
,
are
all
the
world
.
Then
,
how
can
it
be
said
I
am
alone
When
all
the
world
is
here
to
look
on
me
?
I’ll
run
from
thee
and
hide
me
in
the
brakes
And
leave
thee
to
the
mercy
of
wild
beasts
.
The
wildest
hath
not
such
a
heart
as
you
.
Run
when
you
will
.
The
story
shall
be
changed
:
Apollo
flies
and
Daphne
holds
the
chase
;
The
dove
pursues
the
griffin
;
the
mild
hind
ACT 2. SC. 1
Makes
speed
to
catch
the
tiger
.
Bootless
speed
When
cowardice
pursues
and
valor
flies
!
I
will
not
stay
thy
questions
.
Let
me
go
,
Or
if
thou
follow
me
,
do
not
believe
But
I
shall
do
thee
mischief
in
the
wood
.
Ay
,
in
the
temple
,
in
the
town
,
the
field
,
You
do
me
mischief
.
Fie
,
Demetrius
!
Your
wrongs
do
set
a
scandal
on
my
sex
.
We
cannot
fight
for
love
as
men
may
do
.
We
should
be
wooed
and
were
not
made
to
woo
.
Demetrius
exits
.
I’ll
follow
thee
and
make
a
heaven
of
hell
To
die
upon
the
hand
I
love
so
well
.
Helena
exits
.
Fare
thee
well
,
nymph
.
Ere
he
do
leave
this
grove
,
Thou
shalt
fly
him
,
and
he
shall
seek
thy
love
.
Enter
Robin
.
Hast
thou
the
flower
there
?
Welcome
,
wanderer
.
Ay
,
there
it
is
.
I
pray
thee
give
it
me
.
Robin
gives
him
the
flower
.
I
know
a
bank
where
the
wild
thyme
blows
,
Where
oxlips
and
the
nodding
violet
grows
,
Quite
overcanopied
with
luscious
woodbine
,
With
sweet
muskroses
,
and
with
eglantine
.
There
sleeps
Titania
sometime
of
the
night
,
Lulled
in
these
flowers
with
dances
and
delight
.
And
there
the
snake
throws
her
enameled
skin
,
Weed
wide
enough
to
wrap
a
fairy
in
.
And
with
the
juice
of
this
I’ll
streak
her
eyes
And
make
her
full
of
hateful
fantasies
.
Take
thou
some
of
it
,
and
seek
through
this
grove
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
He
gives
Robin
part
of
the
flower
.
A
sweet
Athenian
lady
is
in
love
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
.
Effect
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
.
Fear
not
,
my
lord
.
Your
servant
shall
do
so
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Titania
,
Queen
of
Fairies
,
with
her
train
.
Come
,
now
a
roundel
and
a
fairy
song
;
Then
,
for
the
third
part
of
a
minute
,
hence
—
Some
to
kill
cankers
in
the
muskrose
buds
,
Some
war
with
reremice
for
their
leathern
wings
To
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
.
She
lies
down
.
Fairies
sing
.
You
spotted
snakes
with
double
tongue
,
Thorny
hedgehogs
,
be
not
seen
.
Newts
and
blindworms
,
do
no
wrong
,
Come
not
near
our
Fairy
Queen
.
Philomel
,
with
melody
Sing
in
our
sweet
lullaby
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Lulla
,
lulla
,
lullaby
,
lulla
,
lulla
,
lullaby
.
Never
harm
Nor
spell
nor
charm
Come
our
lovely
lady
nigh
.
So
good
night
,
with
lullaby
.
Weaving
spiders
,
come
not
here
.
Hence
,
you
long-legged
spinners
,
hence
.
Beetles
black
,
approach
not
near
.
Worm
nor
snail
,
do
no
offence
.
Philomel
,
with
melody
Sing
in
our
sweet
lullaby
.
Lulla
,
lulla
,
lullaby
,
lulla
,
lulla
,
lullaby
.
Never
harm
Nor
spell
nor
charm
Come
our
lovely
lady
nigh
.
So
good
night
,
with
lullaby
.
Titania
sleeps
.
Hence
,
away
!
Now
all
is
well
.
One
aloof
stand
sentinel
.
Fairies
exit
.
Enter
Oberon
,
who
anoints
Titania’s
eyelids
with
the
nectar
.
What
thou
seest
when
thou
dost
wake
,
Do
it
for
thy
true
love
take
.
Love
and
languish
for
his
sake
.
Be
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
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Lysander
and
Hermia
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Fair
love
,
you
faint
with
wand’ring
in
the
wood
.
And
,
to
speak
troth
,
I
have
forgot
our
way
.
We’ll
rest
us
,
Hermia
,
if
you
think
it
good
,
And
tarry
for
the
comfort
of
the
day
.
Be
it
so
,
Lysander
.
Find
you
out
a
bed
,
For
I
upon
this
bank
will
rest
my
head
.
One
turf
shall
serve
as
pillow
for
us
both
;
One
heart
,
one
bed
,
two
bosoms
,
and
one
troth
.
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
interchainèd
with
an
oath
—
So
then
two
bosoms
and
a
single
troth
.
Then
by
your
side
no
bed-room
me
deny
,
For
lying
so
,
Hermia
,
I
do
not
lie
.
Lysander
riddles
very
prettily
.
Now
much
beshrew
my
manners
and
my
pride
If
Hermia
meant
to
say
Lysander
lied
.
But
,
gentle
friend
,
for
love
and
courtesy
,
Lie
further
off
in
human
modesty
.
Such
separation
,
as
may
well
be
said
,
Becomes
a
virtuous
bachelor
and
a
maid
.
So
far
be
distant
;
and
good
night
,
sweet
friend
.
Thy
love
ne’er
alter
till
thy
sweet
life
end
!
Amen
,
amen
to
that
fair
prayer
,
say
I
,
And
then
end
life
when
I
end
loyalty
!
Here
is
my
bed
.
Sleep
give
thee
all
his
rest
!
ACT 2. SC. 2
With
half
that
wish
the
wisher’s
eyes
be
pressed
!
They
sleep
.
Enter
Robin
.
Through
the
forest
have
I
gone
,
But
Athenian
found
I
none
On
whose
eyes
I
might
approve
This
flower’s
force
in
stirring
love
.
He
sees
Lysander
.
Night
and
silence
!
Who
is
here
?
Weeds
of
Athens
he
doth
wear
.
This
is
he
my
master
said
Despisèd
the
Athenian
maid
.
And
here
the
maiden
,
sleeping
sound
On
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
.
He
anoints
Lysander’s
eyelids
with
the
nectar
.
When
thou
wak’st
,
let
love
forbid
Sleep
his
seat
on
thy
eyelid
.
So
,
awake
when
I
am
gone
,
For
I
must
now
to
Oberon
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Demetrius
and
Helena
,
running
.
Stay
,
though
thou
kill
me
,
sweet
Demetrius
.
I
charge
thee
,
hence
,
and
do
not
haunt
me
thus
.
O
,
wilt
thou
darkling
leave
me
?
Do
not
so
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Stay
,
on
thy
peril
.
I
alone
will
go
.
Demetrius
exits
.
O
,
I
am
out
of
breath
in
this
fond
chase
.
The
more
my
prayer
,
the
lesser
is
my
grace
.
Happy
is
Hermia
,
wheresoe’er
she
lies
,
For
she
hath
blessèd
and
attractive
eyes
.
How
came
her
eyes
so
bright
?
Not
with
salt
tears
.
If
so
,
my
eyes
are
oftener
washed
than
hers
.
No
,
no
,
I
am
as
ugly
as
a
bear
,
For
beasts
that
meet
me
run
away
for
fear
.
Therefore
no
marvel
though
Demetrius
Do
as
a
monster
fly
my
presence
thus
.
What
wicked
and
dissembling
glass
of
mine
Made
me
compare
with
Hermia’s
sphery
eyne
?
But
who
is
here
?
Lysander
,
on
the
ground
!
Dead
or
asleep
?
I
see
no
blood
,
no
wound
.
—
Lysander
,
if
you
live
,
good
sir
,
awake
.
,
waking
up
And
run
through
fire
I
will
for
thy
sweet
sake
.
Transparent
Helena
!
Nature
shows
art
,
That
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
!
Do
not
say
so
.
Lysander
,
say
not
so
.
What
though
he
love
your
Hermia
?
Lord
,
what
though
?
Yet
Hermia
still
loves
you
.
Then
be
content
.
Content
with
Hermia
?
No
,
I
do
repent
The
tedious
minutes
I
with
her
have
spent
.
Not
Hermia
,
but
Helena
I
love
.
Who
will
not
change
a
raven
for
a
dove
?
The
will
of
man
is
by
his
reason
swayed
,
And
reason
says
you
are
the
worthier
maid
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
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
,
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
.
Wherefore
was
I
to
this
keen
mockery
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
insufficiency
?
Good
troth
,
you
do
me
wrong
,
good
sooth
,
you
do
,
In
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
refused
Should
of
another
therefore
be
abused
!
She
exits
.
She
sees
not
Hermia
.
—
Hermia
,
sleep
thou
there
,
And
never
mayst
thou
come
Lysander
near
.
For
,
as
a
surfeit
of
the
sweetest
things
The
deepest
loathing
to
the
stomach
brings
,
Or
as
the
heresies
that
men
do
leave
Are
hated
most
of
those
they
did
deceive
,
So
thou
,
my
surfeit
and
my
heresy
,
Of
all
be
hated
,
but
the
most
of
me
!
And
,
all
my
powers
,
address
your
love
and
might
To
honor
Helen
and
to
be
her
knight
.
He
exits
.
,
waking
up
Help
me
,
Lysander
,
help
me
!
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
ate
my
heart
away
,
ACT 2. SC. 2
And
you
sat
smiling
at
his
cruel
prey
.
Lysander
!
What
,
removed
?
Lysander
,
lord
!
What
,
out
of
hearing
?
Gone
?
No
sound
,
no
word
?
Alack
,
where
are
you
?
Speak
,
an
if
you
hear
.
Speak
,
of
all
loves
!
I
swoon
almost
with
fear
.
—
No
?
Then
I
well
perceive
you
are
not
nigh
.
Either
death
or
you
I’ll
find
immediately
.
She
exits
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
With
Titania
still
asleep
onstage
,
enter
the
Clowns
,
Bottom
,
Quince
,
Snout
,
Starveling
,
Snug
,
and
Flute
.
Are
we
all
met
?
Pat
,
pat
.
And
here’s
a
marvels
convenient
place
for
our
rehearsal
.
This
green
plot
shall
be
our
stage
,
this
hawthorn
brake
our
tiring-house
,
and
we
will
do
it
in
action
as
we
will
do
it
before
the
Duke
.
Peter
Quince
?
What
sayest
thou
,
bully
Bottom
?
There
are
things
in
this
comedy
of
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
that
will
never
please
.
First
,
Pyramus
must
draw
a
sword
to
kill
himself
,
which
the
ladies
cannot
abide
.
How
answer
you
that
?
By
’r
lakin
,
a
parlous
fear
.
I
believe
we
must
leave
the
killing
out
,
when
all
is
done
.
Not
a
whit
!
I
have
a
device
to
make
all
well
.
Write
me
a
prologue
,
and
let
the
prologue
seem
to
say
we
will
do
no
harm
with
our
swords
,
and
that
Pyramus
is
not
killed
indeed
.
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
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Well
,
we
will
have
such
a
prologue
,
and
it
shall
be
written
in
eight
and
six
.
No
,
make
it
two
more
.
Let
it
be
written
in
eight
and
eight
.
Will
not
the
ladies
be
afeard
of
the
lion
?
I
fear
it
,
I
promise
you
.
Masters
,
you
ought
to
consider
with
yourself
,
to
bring
in
(
God
shield
us
!
)
a
lion
among
ladies
is
a
most
dreadful
thing
.
For
there
is
not
a
more
fearful
wildfowl
than
your
lion
living
,
and
we
ought
to
look
to
’t
.
Therefore
another
prologue
must
tell
he
is
not
a
lion
.
Nay
,
you
must
name
his
name
,
and
half
his
face
must
be
seen
through
the
lion’s
neck
,
and
he
himself
must
speak
through
,
saying
thus
,
or
to
the
same
defect
:
Ladies
,
or
Fair
ladies
,
I
would
wish
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
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
.
Well
,
it
shall
be
so
.
But
there
is
two
hard
things
:
that
is
,
to
bring
the
moonlight
into
a
chamber
,
for
you
know
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
meet
by
moonlight
.
Doth
the
moon
shine
that
night
we
play
our
play
?
A
calendar
,
a
calendar
!
Look
in
the
almanac
.
Find
out
moonshine
,
find
out
moonshine
.
Quince
takes
out
a
book
.
Yes
,
it
doth
shine
that
night
.
Why
,
then
,
may
you
leave
a
casement
of
the
great
chamber
window
,
where
we
play
,
open
,
and
the
moon
may
shine
in
at
the
casement
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Ay
,
or
else
one
must
come
in
with
a
bush
of
thorns
and
a
lantern
and
say
he
comes
to
disfigure
or
to
present
the
person
of
Moonshine
.
Then
there
is
another
thing
:
we
must
have
a
wall
in
the
great
chamber
,
for
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
,
says
the
story
,
did
talk
through
the
chink
of
a
wall
.
You
can
never
bring
in
a
wall
.
What
say
you
,
Bottom
?
Some
man
or
other
must
present
Wall
.
And
let
him
have
some
plaster
,
or
some
loam
,
or
some
roughcast
about
him
to
signify
wall
,
or
let
him
hold
his
fingers
thus
,
and
through
that
cranny
shall
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
whisper
.
If
that
may
be
,
then
all
is
well
.
Come
,
sit
down
,
every
mother’s
son
,
and
rehearse
your
parts
.
Pyramus
,
you
begin
.
When
you
have
spoken
your
speech
,
enter
into
that
brake
,
and
so
everyone
according
to
his
cue
.
Enter
Robin
invisible
to
those
onstage
.
,
aside
What
hempen
homespuns
have
we
swagg’ring
here
So
near
the
cradle
of
the
Fairy
Queen
?
What
,
a
play
toward
?
I’ll
be
an
auditor
—
An
actor
too
perhaps
,
if
I
see
cause
.
Speak
,
Pyramus
.
—
Thisbe
,
stand
forth
.
,
as
Pyramus
Thisbe
,
the
flowers
of
odious
savors
sweet
—
Odors
,
odors
!
,
as
Pyramus
…
odors
savors
sweet
.
So
hath
thy
breath
,
my
dearest
Thisbe
dear
.
—
But
hark
,
a
voice
!
Stay
thou
but
here
awhile
,
And
by
and
by
I
will
to
thee
appear
.
He
exits
.
,
aside
A
stranger
Pyramus
than
e’er
played
here
.
He
exits
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Must
I
speak
now
?
Ay
,
marry
,
must
you
,
for
you
must
understand
he
goes
but
to
see
a
noise
that
he
heard
and
is
to
come
again
.
,
as
Thisbe
Most
radiant
Pyramus
,
most
lily-white
of
hue
,
Of
color
like
the
red
rose
on
triumphant
brier
,
Most
brisky
juvenal
and
eke
most
lovely
Jew
,
As
true
as
truest
horse
,
that
yet
would
never
tire
.
I’ll
meet
thee
,
Pyramus
,
at
Ninny’s
tomb
.
Ninus’
tomb
,
man
!
Why
,
you
must
not
speak
that
yet
.
That
you
answer
to
Pyramus
.
You
speak
all
your
part
at
once
,
cues
and
all
.
—
Pyramus
,
enter
.
Your
cue
is
past
.
It
is
never
tire
.
O
!
As
Thisbe
.
As
true
as
truest
horse
,
that
yet
would
never
tire
.
Enter
Robin
,
and
Bottom
as
Pyramus
with
the
ass-head
.
,
as
Pyramus
If
I
were
fair
,
fair
Thisbe
,
I
were
only
thine
.
O
monstrous
!
O
strange
!
We
are
haunted
.
Pray
,
masters
,
fly
,
masters
!
Help
!
Quince
,
Flute
,
Snout
,
Snug
,
and
Starveling
exit
.
I’ll
follow
you
.
I’ll
lead
you
about
a
round
,
Through
bog
,
through
bush
,
through
brake
,
through
brier
.
Sometime
a
horse
I’ll
be
,
sometime
a
hound
,
A
hog
,
a
headless
bear
,
sometime
a
fire
,
And
neigh
,
and
bark
,
and
grunt
,
and
roar
,
and
burn
,
Like
horse
,
hound
,
hog
,
bear
,
fire
,
at
every
turn
.
He
exits
.
Why
do
they
run
away
?
This
is
a
knavery
of
them
to
make
me
afeard
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Enter
Snout
.
O
Bottom
,
thou
art
changed
!
What
do
I
see
on
thee
?
What
do
you
see
?
You
see
an
ass-head
of
your
own
,
do
you
?
Snout
exits
.
Enter
Quince
.
Bless
thee
,
Bottom
,
bless
thee
!
Thou
art
translated
!
He
exits
.
I
see
their
knavery
.
This
is
to
make
an
ass
of
me
,
to
fright
me
,
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
.
He
sings
.
The
ouzel
cock
,
so
black
of
hue
,
With
orange-tawny
bill
,
The
throstle
with
his
note
so
true
,
The
wren
with
little
quill
—
,
waking
up
What
angel
wakes
me
from
my
flow’ry
bed
?
sings
The
finch
,
the
sparrow
,
and
the
lark
,
The
plainsong
cuckoo
gray
,
Whose
note
full
many
a
man
doth
mark
And
dares
not
answer
nay
—
for
,
indeed
,
who
would
set
his
wit
to
so
foolish
a
bird
?
Who
would
give
a
bird
the
lie
though
he
cry
cuckoo
never
so
?
I
pray
thee
,
gentle
mortal
,
sing
again
.
Mine
ear
is
much
enamored
of
thy
note
,
So
is
mine
eye
enthrallèd
to
thy
shape
,
And
thy
fair
virtue’s
force
perforce
doth
move
me
On
the
first
view
to
say
,
to
swear
,
I
love
thee
.
Methinks
,
mistress
,
you
should
have
little
ACT 3. SC. 1
reason
for
that
.
And
yet
,
to
say
the
truth
,
reason
and
love
keep
little
company
together
nowadays
.
The
more
the
pity
that
some
honest
neighbors
will
not
make
them
friends
.
Nay
,
I
can
gleek
upon
occasion
.
Thou
art
as
wise
as
thou
art
beautiful
.
Not
so
neither
;
but
if
I
had
wit
enough
to
get
out
of
this
wood
,
I
have
enough
to
serve
mine
own
turn
.
Out
of
this
wood
do
not
desire
to
go
.
Thou
shalt
remain
here
whether
thou
wilt
or
no
.
I
am
a
spirit
of
no
common
rate
.
The
summer
still
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
shall
fetch
thee
jewels
from
the
deep
And
sing
while
thou
on
pressèd
flowers
dost
sleep
.
And
I
will
purge
thy
mortal
grossness
so
That
thou
shalt
like
an
airy
spirit
go
.
—
Peaseblossom
,
Cobweb
,
Mote
,
and
Mustardseed
!
Enter
four
Fairies
:
Peaseblossom
,
Cobweb
,
Mote
,
and
Mustardseed
.
Ready
.
And
I
.
And
I
.
And
I
.
Where
shall
we
go
?
Be
kind
and
courteous
to
this
gentleman
.
Hop
in
his
walks
and
gambol
in
his
eyes
;
Feed
him
with
apricocks
and
dewberries
,
With
purple
grapes
,
green
figs
,
and
mulberries
;
The
honey-bags
steal
from
the
humble-bees
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
And
for
night-tapers
crop
their
waxen
thighs
And
light
them
at
the
fiery
glowworms’
eyes
To
have
my
love
to
bed
and
to
arise
;
And
pluck
the
wings
from
painted
butterflies
To
fan
the
moonbeams
from
his
sleeping
eyes
.
Nod
to
him
,
elves
,
and
do
him
courtesies
.
Hail
,
mortal
!
Hail
!
Hail
!
Hail
!
I
cry
your
Worships
mercy
,
heartily
.
—
I
beseech
your
Worship’s
name
.
Cobweb
.
I
shall
desire
you
of
more
acquaintance
,
good
Master
Cobweb
.
If
I
cut
my
finger
,
I
shall
make
bold
with
you
.
—
Your
name
,
honest
gentleman
?
Peaseblossom
.
I
pray
you
,
commend
me
to
Mistress
Squash
,
your
mother
,
and
to
Master
Peascod
,
your
father
.
Good
Master
Peaseblossom
,
I
shall
desire
you
of
more
acquaintance
,
too
.
—
Your
name
,
I
beseech
you
,
sir
?
Mustardseed
.
Good
Master
Mustardseed
,
I
know
your
patience
well
.
That
same
cowardly
,
giantlike
ox-beef
hath
devoured
many
a
gentleman
of
your
house
.
I
promise
you
,
your
kindred
hath
made
my
eyes
water
ere
now
.
I
desire
you
of
more
acquaintance
,
good
Master
Mustardseed
.
Come
,
wait
upon
him
.
Lead
him
to
my
bower
.
The
moon
,
methinks
,
looks
with
a
wat’ry
eye
,
And
when
she
weeps
,
weeps
every
little
flower
,
Lamenting
some
enforcèd
chastity
.
Tie
up
my
lover’s
tongue
.
Bring
him
silently
.
They
exit
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Oberon
,
King
of
Fairies
.
I
wonder
if
Titania
be
awaked
;
Then
what
it
was
that
next
came
in
her
eye
,
Which
she
must
dote
on
in
extremity
.
Enter
Robin
Goodfellow
.
Here
comes
my
messenger
.
How
now
,
mad
spirit
?
What
night-rule
now
about
this
haunted
grove
?
My
mistress
with
a
monster
is
in
love
.
Near
to
her
close
and
consecrated
bower
,
While
she
was
in
her
dull
and
sleeping
hour
,
A
crew
of
patches
,
rude
mechanicals
,
That
work
for
bread
upon
Athenian
stalls
,
Were
met
together
to
rehearse
a
play
Intended
for
great
Theseus’
nuptial
day
.
The
shallowest
thick-skin
of
that
barren
sort
,
Who
Pyramus
presented
in
their
sport
,
Forsook
his
scene
and
entered
in
a
brake
.
When
I
did
him
at
this
advantage
take
,
An
ass’s
noll
I
fixèd
on
his
head
.
Anon
his
Thisbe
must
be
answerèd
,
And
forth
my
mimic
comes
.
When
they
him
spy
,
As
wild
geese
that
the
creeping
fowler
eye
,
Or
russet-pated
choughs
,
many
in
sort
,
Rising
and
cawing
at
the
gun’s
report
,
Sever
themselves
and
madly
sweep
the
sky
,
So
at
his
sight
away
his
fellows
fly
,
And
,
at
our
stamp
,
here
o’er
and
o’er
one
falls
.
He
Murder
cries
and
help
from
Athens
calls
.
Their
sense
thus
weak
,
lost
with
their
fears
thus
strong
,
Made
senseless
things
begin
to
do
them
wrong
;
ACT 3. SC. 2
For
briers
and
thorns
at
their
apparel
snatch
,
Some
sleeves
,
some
hats
,
from
yielders
all
things
catch
.
I
led
them
on
in
this
distracted
fear
And
left
sweet
Pyramus
translated
there
.
When
in
that
moment
,
so
it
came
to
pass
,
Titania
waked
and
straightway
loved
an
ass
.
This
falls
out
better
than
I
could
devise
.
But
hast
thou
yet
latched
the
Athenian’s
eyes
With
the
love
juice
,
as
I
did
bid
thee
do
?
I
took
him
sleeping
—
that
is
finished
,
too
—
And
the
Athenian
woman
by
his
side
,
That
,
when
he
waked
,
of
force
she
must
be
eyed
.
Enter
Demetrius
and
Hermia
.
Stand
close
.
This
is
the
same
Athenian
.
This
is
the
woman
,
but
not
this
the
man
.
They
step
aside
.
O
,
why
rebuke
you
him
that
loves
you
so
?
Lay
breath
so
bitter
on
your
bitter
foe
!
Now
I
but
chide
,
but
I
should
use
thee
worse
,
For
thou
,
I
fear
,
hast
given
me
cause
to
curse
.
If
thou
hast
slain
Lysander
in
his
sleep
,
Being
o’er
shoes
in
blood
,
plunge
in
the
deep
And
kill
me
too
.
The
sun
was
not
so
true
unto
the
day
As
he
to
me
.
Would
he
have
stolen
away
From
sleeping
Hermia
?
I’ll
believe
as
soon
This
whole
Earth
earth
may
be
bored
,
and
that
the
moon
May
through
the
center
creep
and
so
displease
ACT 3. SC. 2
Her
brother’s
noontide
with
th’
Antipodes
.
It
cannot
be
but
thou
hast
murdered
him
.
So
should
a
murderer
look
,
so
dead
,
so
grim
.
So
should
the
murdered
look
,
and
so
should
I
,
Pierced
through
the
heart
with
your
stern
cruelty
.
Yet
you
,
the
murderer
,
look
as
bright
,
as
clear
,
As
yonder
Venus
in
her
glimmering
sphere
.
What’s
this
to
my
Lysander
?
Where
is
he
?
Ah
,
good
Demetrius
,
wilt
thou
give
him
me
?
I
had
rather
give
his
carcass
to
my
hounds
.
Out
,
dog
!
Out
,
cur
!
Thou
driv’st
me
past
the
bounds
Of
maiden’s
patience
.
Hast
thou
slain
him
,
then
?
Henceforth
be
never
numbered
among
men
.
O
,
once
tell
true
!
Tell
true
,
even
for
my
sake
!
Durst
thou
have
looked
upon
him
,
being
awake
?
And
hast
thou
killed
him
sleeping
?
O
brave
touch
!
Could
not
a
worm
,
an
adder
,
do
so
much
?
An
adder
did
it
,
for
with
doubler
tongue
Than
thine
,
thou
serpent
,
never
adder
stung
.
You
spend
your
passion
on
a
misprised
mood
.
I
am
not
guilty
of
Lysander’s
blood
,
Nor
is
he
dead
,
for
aught
that
I
can
tell
.
I
pray
thee
,
tell
me
then
that
he
is
well
.
An
if
I
could
,
what
should
I
get
therefor
?
A
privilege
never
to
see
me
more
.
And
from
thy
hated
presence
part
I
so
.
See
me
no
more
,
whether
he
be
dead
or
no
.
She
exits
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
There
is
no
following
her
in
this
fierce
vein
.
Here
,
therefore
,
for
a
while
I
will
remain
.
So
sorrow’s
heaviness
doth
heavier
grow
For
debt
that
bankrout
sleep
doth
sorrow
owe
,
Which
now
in
some
slight
measure
it
will
pay
,
If
for
his
tender
here
I
make
some
stay
.
He
lies
down
and
falls
asleep
.
,
to
Robin
What
hast
thou
done
?
Thou
hast
mistaken
quite
And
laid
the
love
juice
on
some
true-love’s
sight
.
Of
thy
misprision
must
perforce
ensue
Some
true-love
turned
,
and
not
a
false
turned
true
.
Then
fate
o’errules
,
that
,
one
man
holding
troth
,
A
million
fail
,
confounding
oath
on
oath
.
About
the
wood
go
swifter
than
the
wind
,
And
Helena
of
Athens
look
thou
find
.
All
fancy-sick
she
is
and
pale
of
cheer
With
sighs
of
love
that
costs
the
fresh
blood
dear
.
By
some
illusion
see
thou
bring
her
here
.
I’ll
charm
his
eyes
against
she
do
appear
.
I
go
,
I
go
,
look
how
I
go
,
Swifter
than
arrow
from
the
Tartar’s
bow
.
He
exits
.
,
applying
the
nectar
to
Demetrius’
eyes
Flower
of
this
purple
dye
,
Hit
with
Cupid’s
archery
,
Sink
in
apple
of
his
eye
.
When
his
love
he
doth
espy
,
Let
her
shine
as
gloriously
As
the
Venus
of
the
sky
.
—
When
thou
wak’st
,
if
she
be
by
,
Beg
of
her
for
remedy
.
Enter
Robin
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
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
see
?
Lord
,
what
fools
these
mortals
be
!
Stand
aside
.
The
noise
they
make
Will
cause
Demetrius
to
awake
.
Then
will
two
at
once
woo
one
.
That
must
needs
be
sport
alone
.
And
those
things
do
best
please
me
That
befall
prepost’rously
.
They
step
aside
.
Enter
Lysander
and
Helena
.
Why
should
you
think
that
I
should
woo
in
scorn
?
Scorn
and
derision
never
come
in
tears
.
Look
when
I
vow
,
I
weep
;
and
vows
so
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
?
You
do
advance
your
cunning
more
and
more
.
When
truth
kills
truth
,
O
devilish
holy
fray
!
These
vows
are
Hermia’s
.
Will
you
give
her
o’er
?
Weigh
oath
with
oath
,
and
you
will
nothing
weigh
.
Your
vows
to
her
and
me
,
put
in
two
scales
,
Will
even
weigh
,
and
both
as
light
as
tales
.
I
had
no
judgment
when
to
her
I
swore
.
Nor
none
,
in
my
mind
,
now
you
give
her
o’er
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Demetrius
loves
her
,
and
he
loves
not
you
.
,
waking
up
O
Helen
,
goddess
,
nymph
,
perfect
,
divine
!
To
what
,
my
love
,
shall
I
compare
thine
eyne
?
Crystal
is
muddy
.
O
,
how
ripe
in
show
Thy
lips
,
those
kissing
cherries
,
tempting
grow
!
That
pure
congealèd
white
,
high
Taurus’
snow
,
Fanned
with
the
eastern
wind
,
turns
to
a
crow
When
thou
hold’st
up
thy
hand
.
O
,
let
me
kiss
This
princess
of
pure
white
,
this
seal
of
bliss
!
O
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
,
But
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
.
You
both
are
rivals
and
love
Hermia
,
And
now
both
rivals
to
mock
Helena
.
A
trim
exploit
,
a
manly
enterprise
,
To
conjure
tears
up
in
a
poor
maid’s
eyes
With
your
derision
!
None
of
noble
sort
Would
so
offend
a
virgin
and
extort
A
poor
soul’s
patience
,
all
to
make
you
sport
.
You
are
unkind
,
Demetrius
.
Be
not
so
,
For
you
love
Hermia
;
this
you
know
I
know
.
And
here
with
all
goodwill
,
with
all
my
heart
,
In
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
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Never
did
mockers
waste
more
idle
breath
.
Lysander
,
keep
thy
Hermia
.
I
will
none
.
If
e’er
I
loved
her
,
all
that
love
is
gone
.
My
heart
to
her
but
as
guest-wise
sojourned
,
And
now
to
Helen
is
it
home
returned
,
There
to
remain
.
Helen
,
it
is
not
so
.
Disparage
not
the
faith
thou
dost
not
know
,
Lest
to
thy
peril
thou
aby
it
dear
.
Look
where
thy
love
comes
.
Yonder
is
thy
dear
.
Enter
Hermia
.
,
to
Lysander
Dark
night
,
that
from
the
eye
his
function
takes
,
The
ear
more
quick
of
apprehension
makes
;
Wherein
it
doth
impair
the
seeing
sense
,
It
pays
the
hearing
double
recompense
.
Thou
art
not
by
mine
eye
,
Lysander
,
found
;
Mine
ear
,
I
thank
it
,
brought
me
to
thy
sound
.
But
why
unkindly
didst
thou
leave
me
so
?
Why
should
he
stay
whom
love
doth
press
to
go
?
What
love
could
press
Lysander
from
my
side
?
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
The
hate
I
bear
thee
made
me
leave
thee
so
?
You
speak
not
as
you
think
.
It
cannot
be
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Lo
,
she
is
one
of
this
confederacy
!
Now
I
perceive
they
have
conjoined
all
three
To
fashion
this
false
sport
in
spite
of
me
.
—
Injurious
Hermia
,
most
ungrateful
maid
,
Have
you
conspired
,
have
you
with
these
contrived
,
To
bait
me
with
this
foul
derision
?
Is
all
the
counsel
that
we
two
have
shared
,
The
sisters’
vows
,
the
hours
that
we
have
spent
When
we
have
chid
the
hasty-footed
time
For
parting
us
—
O
,
is
all
forgot
?
All
schooldays’
friendship
,
childhood
innocence
?
We
,
Hermia
,
like
two
artificial
gods
,
Have
with
our
needles
created
both
one
flower
,
Both
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
,
But
yet
an
union
in
partition
,
Two
lovely
berries
molded
on
one
stem
;
So
with
two
seeming
bodies
but
one
heart
,
Two
of
the
first
,
like
coats
in
heraldry
,
Due
but
to
one
,
and
crownèd
with
one
crest
.
And
will
you
rent
our
ancient
love
asunder
,
To
join
with
men
in
scorning
your
poor
friend
?
It
is
not
friendly
;
’tis
not
maidenly
.
Our
sex
,
as
well
as
I
,
may
chide
you
for
it
,
Though
I
alone
do
feel
the
injury
.
I
am
amazèd
at
your
words
.
I
scorn
you
not
.
It
seems
that
you
scorn
me
.
Have
you
not
set
Lysander
,
as
in
scorn
,
To
follow
me
and
praise
my
eyes
and
face
,
And
made
your
other
love
,
Demetrius
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
Who
even
but
now
did
spurn
me
with
his
foot
,
To
call
me
goddess
,
nymph
,
divine
and
rare
,
Precious
,
celestial
?
Wherefore
speaks
he
this
To
her
he
hates
?
And
wherefore
doth
Lysander
Deny
your
love
(
so
rich
within
his
soul
)
And
tender
me
,
forsooth
,
affection
,
But
by
your
setting
on
,
by
your
consent
?
What
though
I
be
not
so
in
grace
as
you
,
So
hung
upon
with
love
,
so
fortunate
,
But
miserable
most
,
to
love
unloved
?
This
you
should
pity
rather
than
despise
.
I
understand
not
what
you
mean
by
this
.
Ay
,
do
.
Persever
,
counterfeit
sad
looks
,
Make
mouths
upon
me
when
I
turn
my
back
,
Wink
each
at
other
,
hold
the
sweet
jest
up
.
This
sport
,
well
carried
,
shall
be
chronicled
.
If
you
have
any
pity
,
grace
,
or
manners
,
You
would
not
make
me
such
an
argument
.
But
fare
you
well
.
’Tis
partly
my
own
fault
,
Which
death
or
absence
soon
shall
remedy
.
Stay
,
gentle
Helena
.
Hear
my
excuse
,
My
love
,
my
life
,
my
soul
,
fair
Helena
.
O
excellent
!
,
to
Lysander
Sweet
,
do
not
scorn
her
so
.
,
to
Lysander
If
she
cannot
entreat
,
I
can
compel
.
Thou
canst
compel
no
more
than
she
entreat
.
Thy
threats
have
no
more
strength
than
her
weak
prayers
.
—
Helen
,
I
love
thee
.
By
my
life
,
I
do
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
I
swear
by
that
which
I
will
lose
for
thee
,
To
prove
him
false
that
says
I
love
thee
not
.
I
say
I
love
thee
more
than
he
can
do
.
If
thou
say
so
,
withdraw
and
prove
it
too
.
Quick
,
come
.
Lysander
,
whereto
tends
all
this
?
She
takes
hold
of
Lysander
.
Away
,
you
Ethiop
!
,
to
Hermia
No
,
no
.
He’ll
Seem
to
break
loose
.
To
Lysander
.
Take
on
as
you
would
follow
,
But
yet
come
not
.
You
are
a
tame
man
,
go
!
,
to
Hermia
Hang
off
,
thou
cat
,
thou
burr
!
Vile
thing
,
let
loose
,
Or
I
will
shake
thee
from
me
like
a
serpent
.
Why
are
you
grown
so
rude
?
What
change
is
this
,
Sweet
love
?
Thy
love
?
Out
,
tawny
Tartar
,
out
!
Out
,
loathèd
med’cine
!
O
,
hated
potion
,
hence
!
Do
you
not
jest
?
Yes
,
sooth
,
and
so
do
you
.
Demetrius
,
I
will
keep
my
word
with
thee
.
I
would
I
had
your
bond
.
For
I
perceive
A
weak
bond
holds
you
.
I’ll
not
trust
your
word
.
What
?
Should
I
hurt
her
,
strike
her
,
kill
her
dead
?
Although
I
hate
her
,
I’ll
not
harm
her
so
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
What
,
can
you
do
me
greater
harm
than
hate
?
Hate
me
?
Wherefore
?
O
me
,
what
news
,
my
love
?
Am
not
I
Hermia
?
Are
not
you
Lysander
?
I
am
as
fair
now
as
I
was
erewhile
.
Since
night
you
loved
me
;
yet
since
night
you
left
me
.
Why
,
then
,
you
left
me
—
O
,
the
gods
forbid
!
—
In
earnest
,
shall
I
say
?
Ay
,
by
my
life
,
And
never
did
desire
to
see
thee
more
.
Therefore
be
out
of
hope
,
of
question
,
of
doubt
.
Be
certain
,
nothing
truer
,
’tis
no
jest
That
I
do
hate
thee
and
love
Helena
.
Hermia
turns
him
loose
.
O
me
!
To
Helena
.
You
juggler
,
you
cankerblossom
,
You
thief
of
love
!
What
,
have
you
come
by
night
And
stol’n
my
love’s
heart
from
him
?
Fine
,
i’
faith
.
Have
you
no
modesty
,
no
maiden
shame
,
No
touch
of
bashfulness
?
What
,
will
you
tear
Impatient
answers
from
my
gentle
tongue
?
Fie
,
fie
,
you
counterfeit
,
you
puppet
,
you
!
Puppet
?
Why
so
?
Ay
,
that
way
goes
the
game
.
Now
I
perceive
that
she
hath
made
compare
Between
our
statures
;
she
hath
urged
her
height
,
And
with
her
personage
,
her
tall
personage
,
Her
height
,
forsooth
,
she
hath
prevailed
with
him
.
And
are
you
grown
so
high
in
his
esteem
Because
I
am
so
dwarfish
and
so
low
?
How
low
am
I
,
thou
painted
maypole
?
Speak
!
How
low
am
I
?
I
am
not
yet
so
low
But
that
my
nails
can
reach
unto
thine
eyes
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
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
.
Let
her
not
strike
me
.
You
perhaps
may
think
,
Because
she
is
something
lower
than
myself
,
That
I
can
match
her
.
Lower
?
Hark
,
again
!
Good
Hermia
,
do
not
be
so
bitter
with
me
.
I
evermore
did
love
you
,
Hermia
,
Did
ever
keep
your
counsels
,
never
wronged
you
—
Save
that
,
in
love
unto
Demetrius
,
I
told
him
of
your
stealth
unto
this
wood
.
He
followed
you
;
for
love
,
I
followed
him
.
But
he
hath
chid
me
hence
and
threatened
me
To
strike
me
,
spurn
me
,
nay
,
to
kill
me
too
.
And
now
,
so
you
will
let
me
quiet
go
,
To
Athens
will
I
bear
my
folly
back
And
follow
you
no
further
.
Let
me
go
.
You
see
how
simple
and
how
fond
I
am
.
Why
,
get
you
gone
.
Who
is
’t
that
hinders
you
?
A
foolish
heart
that
I
leave
here
behind
.
What
,
with
Lysander
?
With
Demetrius
.
Be
not
afraid
.
She
shall
not
harm
thee
,
Helena
.
No
,
sir
,
she
shall
not
,
though
you
take
her
part
.
O
,
when
she
is
angry
,
she
is
keen
and
shrewd
.
She
was
a
vixen
when
she
went
to
school
,
And
though
she
be
but
little
,
she
is
fierce
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Little
again
?
Nothing
but
low
and
little
?
Why
will
you
suffer
her
to
flout
me
thus
?
Let
me
come
to
her
.
Get
you
gone
,
you
dwarf
,
You
minimus
of
hind’ring
knotgrass
made
,
You
bead
,
you
acorn
—
You
are
too
officious
In
her
behalf
that
scorns
your
services
.
Let
her
alone
.
Speak
not
of
Helena
.
Take
not
her
part
.
For
if
thou
dost
intend
Never
so
little
show
of
love
to
her
,
Thou
shalt
aby
it
.
Now
she
holds
me
not
.
Now
follow
,
if
thou
dar’st
,
to
try
whose
right
,
Of
thine
or
mine
,
is
most
in
Helena
.
Follow
?
Nay
,
I’ll
go
with
thee
,
cheek
by
jowl
.
Demetrius
and
Lysander
exit
.
You
,
mistress
,
all
this
coil
is
long
of
you
.
Helena
retreats
.
Nay
,
go
not
back
.
I
will
not
trust
you
,
I
,
Nor
longer
stay
in
your
curst
company
.
Your
hands
than
mine
are
quicker
for
a
fray
.
My
legs
are
longer
though
,
to
run
away
.
She
exits
.
I
am
amazed
and
know
not
what
to
say
.
She
exits
.
,
to
Robin
This
is
thy
negligence
.
Still
thou
mistak’st
,
Or
else
committ’st
thy
knaveries
willfully
.
Believe
me
,
king
of
shadows
,
I
mistook
.
Did
not
you
tell
me
I
should
know
the
man
By
the
Athenian
garments
he
had
on
?
ACT 3. SC. 2
And
so
far
blameless
proves
my
enterprise
That
I
have
’nointed
an
Athenian’s
eyes
;
And
so
far
am
I
glad
it
so
did
sort
,
As
this
their
jangling
I
esteem
a
sport
.
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
,
And
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
.
And
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
,
He
gives
a
the
flower
to
Robin
.
Whose
liquor
hath
this
virtuous
property
,
To
take
from
thence
all
error
with
his
might
And
make
his
eyeballs
roll
with
wonted
sight
.
When
they
next
wake
,
all
this
derision
Shall
seem
a
dream
and
fruitless
vision
.
And
back
to
Athens
shall
the
lovers
wend
,
With
league
whose
date
till
death
shall
never
end
.
Whiles
I
in
this
affair
do
thee
employ
,
I’ll
to
my
queen
and
beg
her
Indian
boy
;
And
then
I
will
her
charmèd
eye
release
From
monster’s
view
,
and
all
things
shall
be
peace
.
My
fairy
lord
,
this
must
be
done
with
haste
,
For
night’s
swift
dragons
cut
the
clouds
full
fast
,
And
yonder
shines
Aurora’s
harbinger
,
At
whose
approach
,
ghosts
wand’ring
here
and
there
ACT 3. SC. 2
Troop
home
to
churchyards
.
Damnèd
spirits
all
,
That
in
crossways
and
floods
have
burial
,
Already
to
their
wormy
beds
are
gone
.
For
fear
lest
day
should
look
their
shames
upon
,
They
willfully
themselves
exile
from
light
And
must
for
aye
consort
with
black-browed
night
.
But
we
are
spirits
of
another
sort
.
I
with
the
Morning’s
love
have
oft
made
sport
And
,
like
a
forester
,
the
groves
may
tread
Even
till
the
eastern
gate
,
all
fiery
red
,
Opening
on
Neptune
with
fair
blessèd
beams
,
Turns
into
yellow
gold
his
salt-green
streams
.
But
notwithstanding
,
haste
!
Make
no
delay
.
We
may
effect
this
business
yet
ere
day
.
He
exits
.
Up
and
down
,
up
and
down
,
I
will
lead
them
up
and
down
.
I
am
feared
in
field
and
town
.
Goblin
,
lead
them
up
and
down
.
Here
comes
one
.
Enter
Lysander
.
Where
art
thou
,
proud
Demetrius
?
Speak
thou
now
.
,
in
Demetrius’
voice
Here
,
villain
,
drawn
and
ready
.
Where
art
thou
?
I
will
be
with
thee
straight
.
,
in
Demetrius’
voice
Follow
me
,
then
,
to
plainer
ground
.
Lysander
exits
.
Enter
Demetrius
.
Lysander
,
speak
again
.
Thou
runaway
,
thou
coward
,
art
thou
fled
?
Speak
!
In
some
bush
?
Where
dost
thou
hide
thy
head
?
ACT 3. SC. 2
,
in
Lysander’s
voice
Thou
coward
,
art
thou
bragging
to
the
stars
,
Telling
the
bushes
that
thou
look’st
for
wars
,
And
wilt
not
come
?
Come
,
recreant
!
Come
,
thou
child
!
I’ll
whip
thee
with
a
rod
.
He
is
defiled
That
draws
a
sword
on
thee
.
Yea
,
art
thou
there
?
,
in
Lysander’s
voice
Follow
my
voice
.
We’ll
try
no
manhood
here
.
They
exit
.
Enter
Lysander
.
He
goes
before
me
and
still
dares
me
on
.
When
I
come
where
he
calls
,
then
he
is
gone
.
The
villain
is
much
lighter-heeled
than
I
.
I
followed
fast
,
but
faster
he
did
fly
,
That
fallen
am
I
in
dark
uneven
way
,
And
here
will
rest
me
.
Come
,
thou
gentle
day
,
For
if
but
once
thou
show
me
thy
gray
light
,
I’ll
find
Demetrius
and
revenge
this
spite
.
He
lies
down
and
sleeps
.
Enter
Robin
and
Demetrius
.
,
in
Lysander’s
voice
Ho
,
ho
,
ho
!
Coward
,
why
com’st
thou
not
?
Abide
me
,
if
thou
dar’st
,
for
well
I
wot
Thou
runn’st
before
me
,
shifting
every
place
,
And
dar’st
not
stand
nor
look
me
in
the
face
.
Where
art
thou
now
?
,
in
Lysander’s
voice
Come
hither
.
I
am
here
.
Nay
,
then
,
thou
mock’st
me
.
Thou
shalt
buy
this
dear
ACT 3. SC. 2
If
ever
I
thy
face
by
daylight
see
.
Now
go
thy
way
.
Faintness
constraineth
me
To
measure
out
my
length
on
this
cold
bed
.
By
day’s
approach
look
to
be
visited
.
He
lies
down
and
sleeps
.
Enter
Helena
.
O
weary
night
,
O
long
and
tedious
night
,
Abate
thy
hours
!
Shine
,
comforts
,
from
the
east
,
That
I
may
back
to
Athens
by
daylight
From
these
that
my
poor
company
detest
.
And
sleep
,
that
sometimes
shuts
up
sorrow’s
eye
,
Steal
me
awhile
from
mine
own
company
.
She
lies
down
and
sleeps
.
Yet
but
three
?
Come
one
more
.
Two
of
both
kinds
makes
up
four
.
Here
she
comes
,
curst
and
sad
.
Cupid
is
a
knavish
lad
Thus
to
make
poor
females
mad
.
Enter
Hermia
.
Never
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
.
Heavens
shield
Lysander
if
they
mean
a
fray
!
She
lies
down
and
sleeps
.
On
the
ground
Sleep
sound
.
I’ll
apply
To
your
eye
,
Gentle
lover
,
remedy
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Robin
applies
the
nectar
to
Lysander’s
eyes
.
When
thou
wak’st
,
Thou
tak’st
True
delight
In
the
sight
Of
thy
former
lady’s
eye
.
And
the
country
proverb
known
,
That
every
man
should
take
his
own
,
In
your
waking
shall
be
shown
.
Jack
shall
have
Jill
;
Naught
shall
go
ill
;
The
man
shall
have
his
mare
again
,
and
all
shall
be
well
.
He
exits
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
With
the
four
lovers
still
asleep
onstage
,
enter
Titania
,
Queen
of
Fairies
,
and
Bottom
and
Fairies
,
and
Oberon
,
the
King
,
behind
them
unseen
by
those
onstage
.
Come
,
sit
thee
down
upon
this
flow’ry
bed
,
While
I
thy
amiable
cheeks
do
coy
,
And
stick
muskroses
in
thy
sleek
smooth
head
,
And
kiss
thy
fair
large
ears
,
my
gentle
joy
.
Where’s
Peaseblossom
?
Ready
.
Scratch
my
head
,
Peaseblossom
.
Where’s
Monsieur
Cobweb
?
Ready
.
Monsieur
Cobweb
,
good
monsieur
,
get
you
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
loath
to
have
you
overflown
with
a
honey-bag
,
signior
.
Cobweb
exits
.
Where’s
Monsieur
Mustardseed
?
Ready
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Give
me
your
neaf
,
Monsieur
Mustardseed
.
Pray
you
,
leave
your
courtesy
,
good
monsieur
.
What’s
your
will
?
Nothing
,
good
monsieur
,
but
to
help
Cavalery
Cobweb
to
scratch
.
I
must
to
the
barber’s
,
monsieur
,
for
methinks
I
am
marvels
hairy
about
the
face
.
And
I
am
such
a
tender
ass
,
if
my
hair
do
but
tickle
me
,
I
must
scratch
.
What
,
wilt
thou
hear
some
music
,
my
sweet
love
?
I
have
a
reasonable
good
ear
in
music
.
Let’s
have
the
tongs
and
the
bones
.
Or
say
,
sweet
love
,
what
thou
desirest
to
eat
.
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
.
I
have
a
venturous
fairy
that
shall
seek
The
squirrel’s
hoard
and
fetch
thee
new
nuts
.
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
me
.
Sleep
thou
,
and
I
will
wind
thee
in
my
arms
.
—
Fairies
,
begone
,
and
be
all
ways
away
.
Fairies
exit
.
So
doth
the
woodbine
the
sweet
honeysuckle
Gently
entwist
;
the
female
ivy
so
Enrings
the
barky
fingers
of
the
elm
.
O
,
how
I
love
thee
!
How
I
dote
on
thee
!
Bottom
and
Titania
sleep
.
Enter
Robin
Goodfellow
.
Welcome
,
good
Robin
.
Seest
thou
this
sweet
sight
?
ACT 4. SC. 1
Her
dotage
now
I
do
begin
to
pity
.
For
,
meeting
her
of
late
behind
the
wood
,
Seeking
sweet
favors
for
this
hateful
fool
,
I
did
upbraid
her
and
fall
out
with
her
.
For
she
his
hairy
temples
then
had
rounded
With
coronet
of
fresh
and
fragrant
flowers
;
And
that
same
dew
,
which
sometime
on
the
buds
Was
wont
to
swell
like
round
and
orient
pearls
,
Stood
now
within
the
pretty
flouriets’
eyes
,
Like
tears
that
did
their
own
disgrace
bewail
.
When
I
had
at
my
pleasure
taunted
her
,
And
she
in
mild
terms
begged
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
Fairyland
.
And
now
I
have
the
boy
,
I
will
undo
This
hateful
imperfection
of
her
eyes
.
And
,
gentle
Puck
,
take
this
transformèd
scalp
From
off
the
head
of
this
Athenian
swain
,
That
he
,
awaking
when
the
other
do
,
May
all
to
Athens
back
again
repair
And
think
no
more
of
this
night’s
accidents
But
as
the
fierce
vexation
of
a
dream
.
But
first
I
will
release
the
Fairy
Queen
.
He
applies
the
nectar
to
her
eyes
.
Be
as
thou
wast
wont
to
be
.
See
as
thou
wast
wont
to
see
.
Dian’s
bud
o’er
Cupid’s
flower
Hath
such
force
and
blessèd
power
.
Now
,
my
Titania
,
wake
you
,
my
sweet
queen
.
,
waking
My
Oberon
,
what
visions
have
I
seen
!
Methought
I
was
enamored
of
an
ass
.
There
lies
your
love
.
How
came
these
things
to
pass
?
O
,
how
mine
eyes
do
loathe
his
visage
now
!
ACT 4. SC. 1
Silence
awhile
.
—
Robin
,
take
off
this
head
.
—
Titania
,
music
call
;
and
strike
more
dead
Than
common
sleep
of
all
these
five
the
sense
.
Music
,
ho
,
music
such
as
charmeth
sleep
!
,
removing
the
ass-head
from
Bottom
Now
,
when
thou
wak’st
,
with
thine
own
fool’s
eyes
peep
.
Sound
music
.
Music
.
Come
,
my
queen
,
take
hands
with
me
,
And
rock
the
ground
whereon
these
sleepers
be
.
Titania
and
Oberon
dance
.
Now
thou
and
I
are
new
in
amity
,
And
will
tomorrow
midnight
solemnly
Dance
in
Duke
Theseus’
house
triumphantly
,
And
bless
it
to
all
fair
prosperity
.
There
shall
the
pairs
of
faithful
lovers
be
Wedded
,
with
Theseus
,
all
in
jollity
.
Fairy
king
,
attend
and
mark
.
I
do
hear
the
morning
lark
.
Then
,
my
queen
,
in
silence
sad
Trip
we
after
night’s
shade
.
We
the
globe
can
compass
soon
,
Swifter
than
the
wand’ring
moon
.
Come
,
my
lord
,
and
in
our
flight
Tell
me
how
it
came
this
night
That
I
sleeping
here
was
found
With
these
mortals
on
the
ground
.
Oberon
,
Robin
,
and
Titania
exit
.
Wind
horn
.
Enter
Theseus
and
all
his
train
,
Hippolyta
,
Egeus
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Go
,
one
of
you
,
find
out
the
Forester
.
For
now
our
observation
is
performed
,
And
,
since
we
have
the
vaward
of
the
day
,
My
love
shall
hear
the
music
of
my
hounds
.
Uncouple
in
the
western
valley
;
let
them
go
.
Dispatch
,
I
say
,
and
find
the
Forester
.
A
Servant
exits
.
We
will
,
fair
queen
,
up
to
the
mountain’s
top
And
mark
the
musical
confusion
Of
hounds
and
echo
in
conjunction
.
I
was
with
Hercules
and
Cadmus
once
,
When
in
a
wood
of
Crete
they
bayed
the
bear
With
hounds
of
Sparta
.
Never
did
I
hear
Such
gallant
chiding
,
for
,
besides
the
groves
,
The
skies
,
the
fountains
,
every
region
near
Seemed
all
one
mutual
cry
.
I
never
heard
So
musical
a
discord
,
such
sweet
thunder
.
My
hounds
are
bred
out
of
the
Spartan
kind
,
So
flewed
,
so
sanded
;
and
their
heads
are
hung
With
ears
that
sweep
away
the
morning
dew
;
Crook-kneed
,
and
dewlapped
like
Thessalian
bulls
;
Slow
in
pursuit
,
but
matched
in
mouth
like
bells
,
Each
under
each
.
A
cry
more
tunable
Was
never
holloed
to
,
nor
cheered
with
horn
,
In
Crete
,
in
Sparta
,
nor
in
Thessaly
.
Judge
when
you
hear
.
—
But
soft
!
What
nymphs
are
these
?
My
lord
,
this
is
my
daughter
here
asleep
,
And
this
Lysander
;
this
Demetrius
is
,
This
Helena
,
old
Nedar’s
Helena
.
I
wonder
of
their
being
here
together
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
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
?
It
is
,
my
lord
.
Go
,
bid
the
huntsmen
wake
them
with
their
horns
.
A
Servant
exits
.
Shout
within
.
Wind
horns
.
They
all
start
up
.
Good
morrow
,
friends
.
Saint
Valentine
is
past
.
Begin
these
woodbirds
but
to
couple
now
?
Demetrius
,
Helena
,
Hermia
,
and
Lysander
kneel
.
Pardon
,
my
lord
.
I
pray
you
all
,
stand
up
.
They
rise
.
I
know
you
two
are
rival
enemies
.
How
comes
this
gentle
concord
in
the
world
,
That
hatred
is
so
far
from
jealousy
To
sleep
by
hate
and
fear
no
enmity
?
My
lord
,
I
shall
reply
amazèdly
,
Half
sleep
,
half
waking
.
But
as
yet
,
I
swear
,
I
cannot
truly
say
how
I
came
here
.
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
Was
to
be
gone
from
Athens
,
where
we
might
,
Without
the
peril
of
the
Athenian
law
—
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
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
Thereby
to
have
defeated
you
and
me
:
You
of
your
wife
and
me
of
my
consent
,
Of
my
consent
that
she
should
be
your
wife
.
My
lord
,
fair
Helen
told
me
of
their
stealth
,
Of
this
their
purpose
hither
to
this
wood
,
And
I
in
fury
hither
followed
them
,
Fair
Helena
in
fancy
following
me
.
But
,
my
good
lord
,
I
wot
not
by
what
power
(
But
by
some
power
it
is
)
my
love
to
Hermia
,
Melted
as
the
snow
,
seems
to
me
now
As
the
remembrance
of
an
idle
gaud
Which
in
my
childhood
I
did
dote
upon
,
And
all
the
faith
,
the
virtue
of
my
heart
,
The
object
and
the
pleasure
of
mine
eye
,
Is
only
Helena
.
To
her
,
my
lord
,
Was
I
betrothed
ere
I
saw
Hermia
.
But
like
a
sickness
did
I
loathe
this
food
.
But
,
as
in
health
,
come
to
my
natural
taste
,
Now
I
do
wish
it
,
love
it
,
long
for
it
,
And
will
forevermore
be
true
to
it
.
Fair
lovers
,
you
are
fortunately
met
.
Of
this
discourse
we
more
will
hear
anon
.
—
Egeus
,
I
will
overbear
your
will
,
For
in
the
temple
by
and
by
,
with
us
,
These
couples
shall
eternally
be
knit
.
—
And
,
for
the
morning
now
is
something
worn
,
Our
purposed
hunting
shall
be
set
aside
.
Away
with
us
to
Athens
.
Three
and
three
,
We’ll
hold
a
feast
in
great
solemnity
.
Come
,
Hippolyta
.
Theseus
and
his
train
,
including
Hippolyta
and
Egeus
,
exit
.
These
things
seem
small
and
undistinguishable
,
Like
far-off
mountains
turnèd
into
clouds
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Methinks
I
see
these
things
with
parted
eye
,
When
everything
seems
double
.
So
methinks
.
And
I
have
found
Demetrius
like
a
jewel
,
Mine
own
and
not
mine
own
.
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
?
Yea
,
and
my
father
.
And
Hippolyta
.
And
he
did
bid
us
follow
to
the
temple
.
Why
,
then
,
we
are
awake
.
Let’s
follow
him
,
And
by
the
way
let
us
recount
our
dreams
.
Lovers
exit
.
,
waking
up
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
ACT 4. SC. 2
latter
end
of
a
play
,
before
the
Duke
.
Peradventure
,
to
make
it
the
more
gracious
,
I
shall
sing
it
at
her
death
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Quince
,
Flute
,
Snout
,
and
Starveling
.
Have
you
sent
to
Bottom’s
house
?
Is
he
come
home
yet
?
He
cannot
be
heard
of
.
Out
of
doubt
he
is
transported
.
If
he
come
not
,
then
the
play
is
marred
.
It
goes
not
forward
,
doth
it
?
It
is
not
possible
.
You
have
not
a
man
in
all
Athens
able
to
discharge
Pyramus
but
he
.
No
,
he
hath
simply
the
best
wit
of
any
handicraftman
in
Athens
.
Yea
,
and
the
best
person
too
,
and
he
is
a
very
paramour
for
a
sweet
voice
.
You
must
say
paragon
.
A
paramour
is
(
God
bless
us
)
a
thing
of
naught
.
Enter
Snug
the
joiner
.
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
.
O
,
sweet
bully
Bottom
!
Thus
hath
he
lost
sixpence
six
pence
a
day
during
his
life
.
He
could
not
have
’scaped
sixpence
six
pence
a
day
.
An
the
Duke
had
not
given
him
sixpence
six
pence
a
day
for
playing
Pyramus
,
I’ll
be
hanged
.
He
would
have
deserved
it
.
Sixpence
Six
pence
a
day
in
Pyramus
,
or
nothing
!
Enter
Bottom
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
Where
are
these
lads
?
Where
are
these
hearts
?
Bottom
!
O
most
courageous
day
!
O
most
happy
hour
!
Masters
,
I
am
to
discourse
wonders
.
But
ask
me
not
what
;
for
,
if
I
tell
you
,
I
am
not
true
Athenian
.
I
will
tell
you
everything
right
as
it
fell
out
.
Let
us
hear
,
sweet
Bottom
.
Not
a
word
of
me
.
All
that
I
will
tell
you
is
that
the
Duke
hath
dined
.
Get
your
apparel
together
,
good
strings
to
your
beards
,
new
ribbons
to
your
pumps
.
Meet
presently
at
the
palace
.
Every
man
look
o’er
his
part
.
For
the
short
and
the
long
is
,
our
play
is
preferred
.
In
any
case
,
let
Thisbe
have
clean
linen
,
and
let
not
him
that
plays
the
lion
pare
his
nails
,
for
they
shall
hang
out
for
the
lion’s
claws
.
And
,
most
dear
actors
,
eat
no
onions
nor
garlic
,
for
we
are
to
utter
sweet
breath
,
and
I
do
not
doubt
but
to
hear
them
say
it
is
a
sweet
comedy
.
No
more
words
.
Away
!
Go
,
away
!
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
Theseus
,
Hippolyta
,
and
Philostrate
,
Lords
,
and
Attendants
.
’Tis
strange
,
my
Theseus
,
that
these
lovers
speak
of
.
More
strange
than
true
.
I
never
may
believe
These
antique
fables
,
nor
these
fairy
toys
.
Lovers
and
madmen
have
such
seething
brains
,
Such
shaping
fantasies
,
that
apprehend
More
than
cool
reason
ever
comprehends
.
The
lunatic
,
the
lover
,
and
the
poet
Are
of
imagination
all
compact
.
One
sees
more
devils
than
vast
hell
can
hold
:
That
is
the
madman
.
The
lover
,
all
as
frantic
,
Sees
Helen’s
beauty
in
a
brow
of
Egypt
.
The
poet’s
eye
,
in
a
fine
frenzy
rolling
,
Doth
glance
from
heaven
to
Earth
earth
,
from
Earth
earth
to
heaven
,
And
as
imagination
bodies
forth
The
forms
of
things
unknown
,
the
poet’s
pen
Turns
them
to
shapes
and
gives
to
airy
nothing
A
local
habitation
and
a
name
.
Such
tricks
hath
strong
imagination
That
,
if
it
would
but
apprehend
some
joy
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
It
comprehends
some
bringer
of
that
joy
.
Or
in
the
night
,
imagining
some
fear
,
How
easy
is
a
bush
supposed
a
bear
!
But
all
the
story
of
the
night
told
over
,
And
all
their
minds
transfigured
so
together
,
More
witnesseth
than
fancy’s
images
And
grows
to
something
of
great
constancy
,
But
,
howsoever
,
strange
and
admirable
.
Enter
Lovers
:
Lysander
,
Demetrius
,
Hermia
,
and
Helena
.
Here
come
the
lovers
full
of
joy
and
mirth
.
—
Joy
,
gentle
friends
!
Joy
and
fresh
days
of
love
Accompany
your
hearts
!
More
than
to
us
Wait
in
your
royal
walks
,
your
board
,
your
bed
!
Come
now
,
what
masques
,
what
dances
shall
we
have
To
wear
away
this
long
age
of
three
hours
Between
our
after-supper
and
bedtime
?
Where
is
our
usual
manager
of
mirth
?
What
revels
are
in
hand
?
Is
there
no
play
To
ease
the
anguish
of
a
torturing
hour
?
Call
Philostrate
.
,
coming
forward
Here
,
mighty
Theseus
.
Say
what
abridgment
have
you
for
this
evening
,
What
masque
,
what
music
?
How
shall
we
beguile
The
lazy
time
if
not
with
some
delight
?
,
giving
Theseus
a
paper
There
is
a
brief
how
many
sports
are
ripe
.
Make
choice
of
which
your
Highness
will
see
first
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
The
battle
with
the
Centaurs
,
to
be
sung
By
an
Athenian
eunuch
to
the
harp
.
We’ll
none
of
that
.
That
have
I
told
my
love
In
glory
of
my
kinsman
Hercules
.
The
riot
of
the
tipsy
Bacchanals
,
Tearing
the
Thracian
singer
in
their
rage
.
That
is
an
old
device
,
and
it
was
played
When
I
from
Thebes
came
last
a
conqueror
.
The
thrice-three
Muses
mourning
for
the
death
Of
learning
,
late
deceased
in
beggary
.
That
is
some
satire
,
keen
and
critical
,
Not
sorting
with
a
nuptial
ceremony
.
A
tedious
brief
scene
of
young
Pyramus
And
his
love
Thisbe
,
very
tragical
mirth
.
Merry
and
tragical
?
Tedious
and
brief
?
That
is
hot
ice
and
wondrous
strange
snow
!
How
shall
we
find
the
concord
of
this
discord
?
A
play
there
is
,
my
lord
,
some
ten
words
long
(
Which
is
as
brief
as
I
have
known
a
play
)
,
But
by
ten
words
,
my
lord
,
it
is
too
long
,
Which
makes
it
tedious
;
for
in
all
the
play
,
There
is
not
one
word
apt
,
one
player
fitted
.
And
tragical
,
my
noble
lord
,
it
is
.
For
Pyramus
therein
doth
kill
himself
,
Which
,
when
I
saw
rehearsed
,
I
must
confess
,
Made
mine
eyes
water
;
but
more
merry
tears
The
passion
of
loud
laughter
never
shed
.
What
are
they
that
do
play
it
?
Hard-handed
men
that
work
in
Athens
here
,
Which
never
labored
in
their
minds
till
now
,
And
now
have
toiled
their
unbreathed
memories
With
this
same
play
,
against
your
nuptial
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
And
we
will
hear
it
.
No
,
my
noble
lord
,
It
is
not
for
you
.
I
have
heard
it
over
,
And
it
is
nothing
,
nothing
in
the
world
,
Unless
you
can
find
sport
in
their
intents
,
Extremely
stretched
and
conned
with
cruel
pain
To
do
you
service
.
I
will
hear
that
play
,
For
never
anything
can
be
amiss
When
simpleness
and
duty
tender
it
.
Go
,
bring
them
in
—
and
take
your
places
,
ladies
.
Philostrate
exits
.
I
love
not
to
see
wretchedness
o’ercharged
,
And
duty
in
his
service
perishing
.
Why
,
gentle
sweet
,
you
shall
see
no
such
thing
.
He
says
they
can
do
nothing
in
this
kind
.
The
kinder
we
,
to
give
them
thanks
for
nothing
.
Our
sport
shall
be
to
take
what
they
mistake
;
And
what
poor
duty
cannot
do
,
noble
respect
Takes
it
in
might
,
not
merit
.
Where
I
have
come
,
great
clerks
have
purposèd
To
greet
me
with
premeditated
welcomes
,
Where
I
have
seen
them
shiver
and
look
pale
,
Make
periods
in
the
midst
of
sentences
,
Throttle
their
practiced
accent
in
their
fears
,
And
in
conclusion
dumbly
have
broke
off
,
Not
paying
me
a
welcome
.
Trust
me
,
sweet
,
Out
of
this
silence
yet
I
picked
a
welcome
,
And
in
the
modesty
of
fearful
duty
,
I
read
as
much
as
from
the
rattling
tongue
Of
saucy
and
audacious
eloquence
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Love
,
therefore
,
and
tongue-tied
simplicity
In
least
speak
most
,
to
my
capacity
.
Enter
Philostrate
.
So
please
your
Grace
,
the
Prologue
is
addressed
.
Let
him
approach
.
Enter
the
Prologue
.
If
we
offend
,
it
is
with
our
goodwill
.
That
you
should
think
we
come
not
to
offend
,
But
with
goodwill
.
To
show
our
simple
skill
,
That
is
the
true
beginning
of
our
end
.
Consider
,
then
,
we
come
but
in
despite
.
We
do
not
come
,
as
minding
to
content
you
,
Our
true
intent
is
.
All
for
your
delight
We
are
not
here
.
That
you
should
here
repent
you
,
The
actors
are
at
hand
,
and
,
by
their
show
,
You
shall
know
all
that
you
are
like
to
know
.
Prologue
exits
.
This
fellow
doth
not
stand
upon
points
.
He
hath
rid
his
prologue
like
a
rough
colt
;
he
knows
not
the
stop
.
A
good
moral
,
my
lord
:
it
is
not
enough
to
speak
,
but
to
speak
true
.
Indeed
he
hath
played
on
this
prologue
like
a
child
on
a
recorder
—
a
sound
,
but
not
in
government
.
His
speech
was
like
a
tangled
chain
—
nothing
impaired
,
but
all
disordered
.
Who
is
next
?
Enter
Pyramus
(
Bottom
)
,
and
Thisbe
(
Flute
)
,
and
Wall
(
Snout
)
,
and
Moonshine
(
Starveling
)
,
and
Lion
(
Snug
)
,
and
Prologue
(
Quince
)
.
,
as
Prologue
Gentles
,
perchance
you
wonder
at
this
show
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
But
wonder
on
,
till
truth
make
all
things
plain
.
This
man
is
Pyramus
,
if
you
would
know
.
This
beauteous
lady
Thisbe
is
certain
.
This
man
with
lime
and
roughcast
doth
present
Wall
,
that
vile
wall
which
did
these
lovers
sunder
;
And
through
Wall’s
chink
,
poor
souls
,
they
are
content
To
whisper
,
at
the
which
let
no
man
wonder
.
This
man
,
with
lantern
,
dog
,
and
bush
of
thorn
,
Presenteth
Moonshine
,
for
,
if
you
will
know
,
By
moonshine
did
these
lovers
think
no
scorn
To
meet
at
Ninus’
tomb
,
there
,
there
to
woo
.
This
grisly
beast
(
which
Lion
hight
by
name
)
The
trusty
Thisbe
coming
first
by
night
Did
scare
away
,
or
rather
did
affright
;
And
,
as
she
fled
,
her
mantle
she
did
fall
,
Which
Lion
vile
with
bloody
mouth
did
stain
.
Anon
comes
Pyramus
,
sweet
youth
and
tall
,
And
finds
his
trusty
Thisbe’s
mantle
slain
.
Whereat
,
with
blade
,
with
bloody
blameful
blade
,
He
bravely
broached
his
boiling
bloody
breast
.
And
Thisbe
,
tarrying
in
mulberry
shade
,
His
dagger
drew
,
and
died
.
For
all
the
rest
,
Let
Lion
,
Moonshine
,
Wall
,
and
lovers
twain
At
large
discourse
,
while
here
they
do
remain
.
I
wonder
if
the
lion
be
to
speak
.
No
wonder
,
my
lord
.
One
lion
may
when
many
asses
do
.
Lion
,
Thisbe
,
Moonshine
,
and
Prologue
exit
.
,
as
Wall
In
this
same
interlude
it
doth
befall
That
I
,
one
Snout
by
name
,
present
a
wall
;
And
such
a
wall
as
I
would
have
you
think
That
had
in
it
a
crannied
hole
or
chink
,
Through
which
the
lovers
,
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
Did
whisper
often
,
very
secretly
.
This
loam
,
this
roughcast
,
and
this
stone
doth
show
That
I
am
that
same
wall
.
The
truth
is
so
.
And
this
the
cranny
is
,
right
and
sinister
,
Through
which
the
fearful
lovers
are
to
whisper
.
Would
you
desire
lime
and
hair
to
speak
better
?
It
is
the
wittiest
partition
that
ever
I
heard
discourse
,
my
lord
.
Pyramus
draws
near
the
wall
.
Silence
.
,
as
Pyramus
O
grim-looked
night
!
O
night
with
hue
so
black
!
O
night
,
which
ever
art
when
day
is
not
!
O
night
!
O
night
!
Alack
,
alack
,
alack
!
I
fear
my
Thisbe’s
promise
is
forgot
.
And
thou
,
O
wall
,
O
sweet
,
O
lovely
wall
,
That
stand’st
between
her
father’s
ground
and
mine
,
Thou
wall
,
O
wall
,
O
sweet
and
lovely
wall
,
Show
me
thy
chink
to
blink
through
with
mine
eyne
.
Thanks
,
courteous
wall
.
Jove
shield
thee
well
for
this
.
But
what
see
I
?
No
Thisbe
do
I
see
.
O
wicked
wall
,
through
whom
I
see
no
bliss
,
Cursed
be
thy
stones
for
thus
deceiving
me
!
The
wall
,
methinks
,
being
sensible
,
should
curse
again
.
No
,
in
truth
,
sir
,
he
should
not
.
Deceiving
me
is
Thisbe’s
cue
.
She
is
to
enter
now
,
and
I
am
to
spy
her
through
the
wall
.
You
shall
see
it
will
fall
pat
as
I
told
you
.
Yonder
she
comes
.
Enter
Thisbe
(
Flute
)
.
,
as
Thisbe
O
wall
,
full
often
hast
thou
heard
my
moans
ACT 5. SC. 1
For
parting
my
fair
Pyramus
and
me
.
My
cherry
lips
have
often
kissed
thy
stones
,
Thy
stones
with
lime
and
hair
knit
up
in
thee
.
,
as
Pyramus
I
see
a
voice
!
Now
will
I
to
the
chink
To
spy
an
I
can
hear
my
Thisbe’s
face
.
Thisbe
?
,
as
Thisbe
My
love
!
Thou
art
my
love
,
I
think
.
,
as
Pyramus
Think
what
thou
wilt
,
I
am
thy
lover’s
grace
,
And
,
like
Limander
,
am
I
trusty
still
.
,
as
Thisbe
And
I
like
Helen
,
till
the
Fates
me
kill
.
,
as
Pyramus
Not
Shafalus
to
Procrus
was
so
true
.
,
as
Thisbe
As
Shafalus
to
Procrus
,
I
to
you
.
,
as
Pyramus
O
kiss
me
through
the
hole
of
this
vile
wall
.
,
as
Thisbe
I
kiss
the
wall’s
hole
,
not
your
lips
at
all
.
,
as
Pyramus
Wilt
thou
at
Ninny’s
tomb
meet
me
straightway
?
,
as
Thisbe
’Tide
life
,
’tide
death
,
I
come
without
delay
.
Bottom
and
Flute
exit
.
,
as
Wall
Thus
have
I
,
Wall
,
my
part
dischargèd
so
,
And
,
being
done
,
thus
Wall
away
doth
go
.
He
exits
.
Now
is
the
wall
down
between
the
two
neighbors
.
No
remedy
,
my
lord
,
when
walls
are
so
willful
to
hear
without
warning
.
This
is
the
silliest
stuff
that
ever
I
heard
.
The
best
in
this
kind
are
but
shadows
,
and
ACT 5. SC. 1
the
worst
are
no
worse
,
if
imagination
amend
them
.
It
must
be
your
imagination
,
then
,
and
not
theirs
.
If
we
imagine
no
worse
of
them
than
they
of
themselves
,
they
may
pass
for
excellent
men
.
Here
come
two
noble
beasts
in
,
a
man
and
a
lion
.
Enter
Lion
(
Snug
)
and
Moonshine
(
Starveling
)
.
,
as
Lion
You
ladies
,
you
whose
gentle
hearts
do
fear
The
smallest
monstrous
mouse
that
creeps
on
floor
,
May
now
perchance
both
quake
and
tremble
here
,
When
lion
rough
in
wildest
rage
doth
roar
.
Then
know
that
I
,
as
Snug
the
joiner
,
am
A
lion
fell
,
nor
else
no
lion’s
dam
;
For
if
I
should
as
lion
come
in
strife
Into
this
place
,
’twere
pity
on
my
life
.
A
very
gentle
beast
,
and
of
a
good
conscience
.
The
very
best
at
a
beast
,
my
lord
,
that
e’er
I
saw
.
This
lion
is
a
very
fox
for
his
valor
.
True
,
and
a
goose
for
his
discretion
.
Not
so
,
my
lord
,
for
his
valor
cannot
carry
his
discretion
,
and
the
fox
carries
the
goose
.
His
discretion
,
I
am
sure
,
cannot
carry
his
valor
,
for
the
goose
carries
not
the
fox
.
It
is
well
.
Leave
it
to
his
discretion
,
and
let
us
listen
to
the
Moon
.
,
as
Moonshine
This
lanthorn
doth
the
hornèd
moon
present
.
He
should
have
worn
the
horns
on
his
head
.
He
is
no
crescent
,
and
his
horns
are
invisible
within
the
circumference
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
,
as
Moonshine
This
lanthorn
doth
the
hornèd
moon
present
.
Myself
the
man
i’
th’
moon
do
seem
to
be
.
This
is
the
greatest
error
of
all
the
rest
;
the
man
should
be
put
into
the
lanthorn
.
How
is
it
else
the
man
i’
th’
moon
?
He
dares
not
come
there
for
the
candle
,
for
you
see
,
it
is
already
in
snuff
.
I
am
aweary
of
this
moon
.
Would
he
would
change
.
It
appears
by
his
small
light
of
discretion
that
he
is
in
the
wane
;
but
yet
,
in
courtesy
,
in
all
reason
,
we
must
stay
the
time
.
Proceed
,
Moon
.
,
as
Moonshine
All
that
I
have
to
say
is
to
tell
you
that
the
lanthorn
is
the
moon
,
I
the
man
i’
th’
moon
,
this
thornbush
my
thornbush
,
and
this
dog
my
dog
.
Why
,
all
these
should
be
in
the
lanthorn
,
for
all
these
are
in
the
moon
.
But
silence
.
Here
comes
Thisbe
.
Enter
Thisbe
(
Flute
)
.
,
as
Thisbe
This
is
old
Ninny’s
tomb
.
Where
is
my
love
?
,
as
Lion
O
!
The
Lion
roars
.
Thisbe
runs
off
,
dropping
her
mantle
.
Well
roared
,
Lion
.
Well
run
,
Thisbe
.
Well
shone
,
Moon
.
Truly
,
the
Moon
shines
with
a
good
grace
.
Lion
worries
the
mantle
.
Well
moused
,
Lion
.
Enter
Pyramus
(
Bottom
)
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
And
then
came
Pyramus
.
Lion
exits
.
And
so
the
lion
vanished
.
,
as
Pyramus
Sweet
Moon
,
I
thank
thee
for
thy
sunny
beams
.
I
thank
thee
,
Moon
,
for
shining
now
so
bright
,
For
by
thy
gracious
,
golden
,
glittering
gleams
,
I
trust
to
take
of
truest
Thisbe
sight
.
—
But
stay
!
O
spite
!
But
mark
,
poor
knight
,
What
dreadful
dole
is
here
!
Eyes
,
do
you
see
!
How
can
it
be
!
O
dainty
duck
!
O
dear
!
Thy
mantle
good
—
What
,
stained
with
blood
?
Approach
,
ye
Furies
fell
!
O
Fates
,
come
,
come
,
Cut
thread
and
thrum
,
Quail
,
crush
,
conclude
,
and
quell
!
This
passion
,
and
the
death
of
a
dear
friend
,
would
go
near
to
make
a
man
look
sad
.
Beshrew
my
heart
but
I
pity
the
man
.
,
as
Pyramus
O
,
wherefore
,
Nature
,
didst
thou
lions
frame
,
Since
lion
vile
hath
here
deflowered
my
dear
,
Which
is
—
no
,
no
—
which
was
the
fairest
dame
That
lived
,
that
loved
,
that
liked
,
that
looked
with
cheer
?
Come
,
tears
,
confound
!
Out
,
sword
,
and
wound
The
pap
of
Pyramus
;
Ay
,
that
left
pap
,
Where
heart
doth
hop
.
Pyramus
stabs
himself
.
Thus
die
I
,
thus
,
thus
,
thus
.
Now
am
I
dead
;
ACT 5. SC. 1
Now
am
I
fled
;
My
soul
is
in
the
sky
.
Tongue
,
lose
thy
light
!
Moon
,
take
thy
flight
!
Moonshine
exits
.
Now
die
,
die
,
die
,
die
,
die
.
Pyramus
falls
.
No
die
,
but
an
ace
,
for
him
,
for
he
is
but
one
.
Less
than
an
ace
,
man
,
for
he
is
dead
,
he
is
nothing
.
With
the
help
of
a
surgeon
he
might
yet
recover
and
yet
prove
an
ass
.
How
chance
Moonshine
is
gone
before
Thisbe
comes
back
and
finds
her
lover
?
She
will
find
him
by
starlight
.
Enter
Thisbe
(
Flute
)
.
Here
she
comes
,
and
her
passion
ends
the
play
.
Methinks
she
should
not
use
a
long
one
for
such
a
Pyramus
.
I
hope
she
will
be
brief
.
A
mote
will
turn
the
balance
,
which
Pyramus
,
which
Thisbe
,
is
the
better
:
he
for
a
man
,
God
warrant
us
;
she
for
a
woman
,
God
bless
us
.
She
hath
spied
him
already
with
those
sweet
eyes
.
And
thus
she
means
,
videlicet
—
,
as
Thisbe
Asleep
,
my
love
?
What
,
dead
,
my
dove
?
O
Pyramus
,
arise
!
Speak
,
speak
.
Quite
dumb
?
Dead
?
Dead
?
A
tomb
Must
cover
thy
sweet
eyes
.
These
lily
lips
,
This
cherry
nose
,
These
yellow
cowslip
cheeks
Are
gone
,
are
gone
!
ACT 5. SC. 1
Lovers
,
make
moan
;
His
eyes
were
green
as
leeks
.
O
Sisters
Three
,
Come
,
come
to
me
With
hands
as
pale
as
milk
.
Lay
them
in
gore
,
Since
you
have
shore
With
shears
his
thread
of
silk
.
Tongue
,
not
a
word
!
Come
,
trusty
sword
,
Come
,
blade
,
my
breast
imbrue
!
Thisbe
stabs
herself
.
And
farewell
,
friends
.
Thus
Thisbe
ends
.
Adieu
,
adieu
,
adieu
.
Thisbe
falls
.
Moonshine
and
Lion
are
left
to
bury
the
dead
.
Ay
,
and
Wall
too
.
Bottom
and
Flute
arise
.
No
,
I
assure
you
,
the
wall
is
down
that
parted
their
fathers
.
Will
it
please
you
to
see
the
Epilogue
or
to
hear
a
Bergomask
dance
between
two
of
our
company
?
No
epilogue
,
I
pray
you
.
For
your
play
needs
no
excuse
.
Never
excuse
.
For
when
the
players
are
all
dead
,
there
need
none
to
be
blamed
.
Marry
,
if
he
that
writ
it
had
played
Pyramus
and
hanged
himself
in
Thisbe’s
garter
,
it
would
have
been
a
fine
tragedy
;
and
so
it
is
,
truly
,
and
very
notably
discharged
.
But
,
come
,
your
Bergomask
.
Let
your
epilogue
alone
.
Dance
,
and
the
players
exit
.
The
iron
tongue
of
midnight
hath
told
twelve
.
Lovers
,
to
bed
!
’Tis
almost
fairy
time
.
I
fear
we
shall
outsleep
the
coming
morn
As
much
as
we
this
night
have
overwatched
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
This
palpable-gross
play
hath
well
beguiled
The
heavy
gait
of
night
.
Sweet
friends
,
to
bed
.
A
fortnight
hold
we
this
solemnity
In
nightly
revels
and
new
jollity
.
They
exit
.
Enter
Robin
Goodfellow
.
Now
the
hungry
lion
roars
,
And
the
wolf
behowls
the
moon
,
Whilst
the
heavy
plowman
snores
,
All
with
weary
task
fordone
.
Now
the
wasted
brands
do
glow
,
Whilst
the
screech-owl
,
screeching
loud
,
Puts
the
wretch
that
lies
in
woe
In
remembrance
of
a
shroud
.
Now
it
is
the
time
of
night
That
the
graves
,
all
gaping
wide
,
Every
one
lets
forth
his
sprite
In
the
church-way
paths
to
glide
.
And
we
fairies
,
that
do
run
By
the
triple
Hecate’s
team
From
the
presence
of
the
sun
,
Following
darkness
like
a
dream
,
Now
are
frolic
.
Not
a
mouse
Shall
disturb
this
hallowed
house
.
I
am
sent
with
broom
before
,
To
sweep
the
dust
behind
the
door
.
Enter
Oberon
and
Titania
,
King
and
Queen
of
Fairies
,
with
all
their
train
.
Through
the
house
give
glimmering
light
,
By
the
dead
and
drowsy
fire
.
Every
elf
and
fairy
sprite
,
Hop
as
light
as
bird
from
brier
,
And
this
ditty
after
me
,
Sing
and
dance
it
trippingly
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
First
rehearse
your
song
by
rote
,
To
each
word
a
warbling
note
.
Hand
in
hand
,
with
fairy
grace
,
Will
we
sing
and
bless
this
place
.
Oberon
leads
the
Fairies
in
song
and
dance
.
Now
,
until
the
break
of
day
,
Through
this
house
each
fairy
stray
.
To
the
best
bride-bed
will
we
,
Which
by
us
shall
blessèd
be
,
And
the
issue
there
create
Ever
shall
be
fortunate
.
So
shall
all
the
couples
three
Ever
true
in
loving
be
,
And
the
blots
of
Nature’s
hand
Shall
not
in
their
issue
stand
.
Never
mole
,
harelip
,
nor
scar
,
Nor
mark
prodigious
,
such
as
are
Despisèd
in
nativity
,
Shall
upon
their
children
be
.
With
this
field-dew
consecrate
Every
fairy
take
his
gait
,
And
each
several
chamber
bless
,
Through
this
palace
,
with
sweet
peace
.
And
the
owner
of
it
blest
,
Ever
shall
in
safety
rest
.
Trip
away
.
Make
no
stay
.
Meet
me
all
by
break
of
day
.
All
but
Robin
exit
.
If
we
shadows
have
offended
,
Think
but
this
and
all
is
mended
:
That
you
have
but
slumbered
here
While
these
visions
did
appear
.
And
this
weak
and
idle
theme
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
No
more
yielding
but
a
dream
,
Gentles
,
do
not
reprehend
.
If
you
pardon
,
we
will
mend
.
And
,
as
I
am
an
honest
Puck
,
If
we
have
unearnèd
luck
Now
to
’scape
the
serpent’s
tongue
,
We
will
make
amends
ere
long
.
Else
the
Puck
a
liar
call
.
So
good
night
unto
you
all
.
Give
me
your
hands
,
if
we
be
friends
,
And
Robin
shall
restore
amends
.
He
exits
.
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