| | His mother was a votaress of my order: | |
| | And, in the spiced Indian air, by night, | |
| | Full often hath she gossip'd by my side, | |
| | And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, | |
| | Marking the embarked traders on the flood, | 130 |
| | When we have laugh'd 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, | 135 |
| | 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. | 140 |
| OBERON | How long within this wood intend you stay? | |
| TITANIA | 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. | 145 |
| OBERON | Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. | |
| TITANIA | Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away! | |
| | We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. | |
| | Exit TITANIA with her train | |
| OBERON | Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove | |
| | Till I torment thee for this injury. | 150 |
| | My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest | |
| | 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 | 155 |
| | And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, | |
| | To hear the sea-maid's music. | |
| PUCK | I remember. | |
| OBERON | That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, | |
| | Flying between the cold moon and the earth, | 160 |
| | Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took | |
| | At a fair vestal throned 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 | 165 |
| | Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, | |
| | And the imperial votaress passed on, | |
| | In maiden meditation, fancy-free. | |
| | Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: | |
| | It fell upon a little western flower, | 170 |
| | Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, | |
| | And maidens call it love-in-idleness. | |
| | Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once: | |
| | The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid | |
| | Will make or man or woman madly dote | 175 |
| | Upon the next live creature that it sees. | |
| | Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again | |
| | Ere the leviathan can swim a league. | |
| PUCK | I'll put a girdle round about the earth | |
| | In forty minutes. | 180 |
| | Exit | |
| OBERON | 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, | 185 |
| | 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. | 190 |
| | But who comes here? I am invisible; | |
| | And I will overhear their conference. | |
| | Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA, following him | |
| DEMETRIUS | I love thee not, therefore pursue me not. | |
| | Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? | |
| | The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me. | 195 |
| | Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood; | |
| | And here am I, and wode within this wood, | |
| | Because I cannot meet my Hermia. | |
| | Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. | |
| HELENA | You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; | 200 |
| | 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. | |
| DEMETRIUS | Do I entice you? do I speak you fair? | |
| | Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth | 205 |
| | Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you? | |
| HELENA | And even for that do I love you the more. | |
| | 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, | 210 |
| | 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 used as you use your dog? | 215 |
| DEMETRIUS | Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; | |
| | For I am sick when I do look on thee. | |
| HELENA | And I am sick when I look not on you. | |
| DEMETRIUS | You do impeach your modesty too much, | |
| | To leave the city and commit yourself | 220 |
| | 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. | |
| HELENA | Your virtue is my privilege: for that | 225 |
| | 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, | 230 |
| | When all the world is here to look on me? | |
| DEMETRIUS | I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, | |
| | And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. | |
| HELENA | The wildest hath not such a heart as you. | |
| | Run when you will, the story shall be changed: | 235 |
| | Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; | |
| | The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind | |
| | Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, | |
| | When cowardice pursues and valour flies. | |
| DEMETRIUS | I will not stay thy questions; let me go: | 240 |
| | Or, if thou follow me, do not believe | |
| | But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. | |
| HELENA | Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, | |
| | You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! | |
| | Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: | 245 |
| | We cannot fight for love, as men may do; | |
| | We should be wood and were not made to woo. | |
| | Exit DEMETRIUS | |
| | I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, | |
| | To die upon the hand I love so well. | |
| | Exit | |
| OBERON | Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, | 250 |
| | Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love. | |
| | Re-enter PUCK | |
| | Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. | |
| PUCK | Ay, there it is. | |
| OBERON | I pray thee, give it me. | |
| | I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, | 255 |
| | Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, | |
| | Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, | |
| | With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: | |
| | There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, | |
| | Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight; | 260 |
| | And there the snake throws her enamell'd 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: | 265 |
| | 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. | 270 |
| | 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. | |
| PUCK | Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so. | |
| | Exeunt | |
| ACT IISCENE I | A wood near Athens. | |
| | Enter, from opposite sides, a Fairy, and PUCK | |
| PUCK | How now, spirit! whither wander you? | |
| Fairy | Over hill, over dale, | |
| | Thorough bush, thorough brier, | |
| | Over park, over pale, | 5 |
| | 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. | 10 |
| | 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 dewdrops here | 15 |
| | And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. | |
| | Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone: | |
| | Our queen and all our elves come here anon. | |
| PUCK | The king doth keep his revels here to-night: | |
| | Take heed the queen come not within his sight; | 20 |
| | 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 | 25 |
| | 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 starlight sheen, | 30 |
| | But, they do square, that all their elves for fear | |
| | Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there. | |
| Fairy | Either I mistake your shape and making quite, | |
| | Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite | |
| | Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he | 35 |
| | That frights the maidens of the villagery; | |
| | Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern | |
| | And bootless make the breathless housewife churn; | |
| | And sometime make the drink to bear no barm; | |
| | Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? | 40 |
| | Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck, | |
| | You do their work, and they shall have good luck: | |
| | Are not you he? | |
| PUCK | Thou speak'st aright; | |
| | I am that merry wanderer of the night. | 45 |
| | 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, | 50 |
| | And when she drinks, against her lips I bob | |
| | And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale. | |
| | The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, | |
| | Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; | |
| | Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, | 55 |
| | And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough; | |
| | And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh, | |
| | And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear | |
| | A merrier hour was never wasted there. | |
| | But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon. | 60 |
| Fairy | And here my mistress. Would that he were gone! | |
| | Enter, from one side, OBERON, with his train;from the other, TITANIA, with hers | |
| OBERON | Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. | |
| TITANIA | What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence: | |
| | I have forsworn his bed and company. | |
| OBERON | Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord? | 65 |
| TITANIA | Then I must be thy lady: but I know | |
| | When thou hast stolen 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, | 70 |
| | Come from the farthest Steppe 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. | 75 |
| OBERON | 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? | 80 |
| | And make him with fair AEgle break his faith, | |
| | With Ariadne and Antiopa? | |
| TITANIA | These are the forgeries of jealousy: | |
| | And never, since the middle summer's spring, | |
| | Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, | 85 |
| | By paved fountain or by rushy brook, | |
| | Or in 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, | 90 |
| | 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: | |
| | The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, | 95 |
| | 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 murrion flock; | |
| | The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud, | 100 |
| | 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 blest: | |
| | Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, | 105 |
| | 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 | |
| | Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, | 110 |
| | 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 mazed world, | 115 |
| | 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. | |
| OBERON | Do you amend it then; it lies in you: | 120 |
| | Why should Titania cross her Oberon? | |
| | I do but beg a little changeling boy, | |
| | To be my henchman. | |
| TITANIA | Set your heart at rest: | |
| | The fairy land buys not the child of me. | 125 |
