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You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye' to be in shady cloister mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage:
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.

Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

The. 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.

Lys. Or else misgraffed, in respect of years;
Her. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young!
Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends.
Her. O hell! to choose love by another's eye!
Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it;
Making it momentary 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,
And ere a man hath power to say,-Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
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.
Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me,
Hermia.

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia;-And, Lysander, I have a widow aunt, a dowager

yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius;
Let ine have Hermia's: do you marry him.
Ege. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love;
And what is mine my love shall render him;
And she is mine; and all iny right of her
I do estate unto Demetrius.

Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
I am belov'd 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,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

The. I must confess, that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
Bat, being over-full 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 yield 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.
Ege. With duty and desire we follow you.
[Exeunt Thes. Hip. Ege. Dem. and train.
Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek
so pale ?

How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Her. Belike for want of rain; which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.

Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth:
But, either it was different in blood;

Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low!

(1) Ever. (2) Wicked. (4) Black. (5) Lovers.

(3) Give, bestow.
(6) Pole-stars.

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 lov'st me then,
Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow 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.

Her.

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 burn'd 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,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys. Keep promise, love: look, here comes
Helena.

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More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear,
Sickness is catching; O were favour' 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'll give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still,
Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles
such skill!

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
Hel. O, that my prayers could such affection
move!

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me,

(7) Countenance.

Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. [ble comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Hel. None, but your beauty; 'would that fault Thisby.

were mine! Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my and a merry.-Now, good Peter Quince, call forth

face;

Lysander and myself will fly this place.—

Before the time I did Lysander see,

Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me:

O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell!

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
To-morrow 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 devis'd to steal.
Her. 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!
Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight.
[Exit Hermia.
Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu:
As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!

[Exit Lysander.
Hel. 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 beguil'd.
As waggish boys in game1 themselves forswear,
So the boy love is perjur'd every where:
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,'
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he, to-morrow 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.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. A room in a Cottage.
Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, and
Starveling.

Quin. Is all our company here?

Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.

Quin. 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 duchess, on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, your actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves.

Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the weaver.

Bot. Ready: name what part I am for, and proIceed.

Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Py

ramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.

Bot. 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 humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. "The raging rocks,

"With shivering shocks,
"Shall break the locks
"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 play-
ers.-This is Ercles' vein; a tyrant's vein; a lover
is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flu. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.

Flu. What is Thisby? a wandering knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.

Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice;-Thisne, Thisne,-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear! and lady dear!

Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus, and, Flute, you Thisby.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor.
Star. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.-Tom Snout, the tinker.

Snout. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's father-Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part:and, I hope, here is a play fitted.

Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

Bot. 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.

Quin. 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. All. That would hang us every mother's son.

Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us: but I will ag

Quin. Marry, our play is-The most lamenta- gravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an' 'twere lany nightingale.

(1) Sport.

(2) Eyes.

(3) As il.

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Call'd Robin Good-fellow: are you not he, Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as That fright the maidens of the villagery; one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely, Skim milk; and sometimes labour in the quern," gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs And bootless make the breathless housewife churn; play Pyramus. And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;"

Quin. Why, what you will.

Puck.

Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm: were I best to play it in? Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck: Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-Are not you he? coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your Thou speak'st aright; purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-co-I am that merry wanderer of the night. four beard, your perfect yellow. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, at all, and then you will play bare-faced.-But, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal: masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, you, request J d desire you, to con them by In very likeness of a roasted crab ; to-morrow night: and meet me in the palace wood, And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, a mile without the town, by moon-light; there will And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale. we rehearse for if we meet in the city, we shall The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, be dogg'd with company, and our devices known. Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me: In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties,' Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. And tailor cries, and falls into a cough; Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe, more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear be perfect; adieu. A merrier hour was never wasted there.But room, Faery, here comes Oberon.

Quin. At the duke's oak we meet.

Bot. Enough; Hold, or cut bow-strings." [Exe.

ACT II.

Fai. And here my mistress:-'Would that he were gone!

SCENE II.-Enter Oberon, at one door, with his
train, and Titania, at another, with hers.

Obe. Il met by moon-light, proud Titania.
Tita. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence;

SCENE I.—A wood near Athens. Enter a Fairy I have fors worn his bed and company.

at one door, and Puck at another.

Puck. How now, spirit! whither wander you?
Fai. Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander every where,
Swifter than the moones sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs3 upon the green:
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dew-drops 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.
Puck. The king doth keep his revels here to-night;
Take heed, the queen come not within his sight.
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy, stol'n 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 loved 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 star-light sheen,"
But they do square; that all their elves, for fear,
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.
Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making
quite,

Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite,

Articles required in performing a play.
At all events.
A term of contempt.

(3) Circles.
(5) Shining.

Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord?
Tita. Then I must be thy lady: But I know
When thou hast stol'n away from fairy land,
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 buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be wedded; and you come
To give their bed joy and prosperity.

Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,

Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?

Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering

night

From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
And make him with fair glé break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or on the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport:
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land,
Have every pelting river made so proud,
That they have overborne their continents:1
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his voke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat; and the green corn
Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock;

(6) Quarrel.
(7) Mill.
(9) Wild apple. (10) Petty.
(11) Banks which contain them.

(8) Yeast.

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