Fai. And here my Mistress: Would that we were gone. Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one Door with his Train,

and the Queen at another with hers. Ob. I'll met by Moon-light, Proud Titania,

Queen. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence, I have forsworn his Bed and Company.

Ób. Tarry rash Wanton, am not I thy Lord?

Queen. Then I must be thy Lady; but I know
When thou wast stoll'n away from Fairy Land,
And in the shape of Corin sate 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 Thefens must be wedded, and you come,
To give their Bed Joy and Prosperity.

Ob. How can'st thou thus for Thame, Titania,
Glance at my Credit with Hippolita,
Knowing I know thy Love to Theseus ?
Didst thou not lead 'him through the glimmering Night
From Peregenia, whom he ravished,
And make him with fair Ægle break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

Queen. These are the Forgeries of Jealousie,
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 in the beached Margent of the Sea,
To dance our

Ringlets to the whistling Wind,
But with thy Brawls thou hast disturbid 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,
Hath every petty River made to proud,
That they have over-born their Continents.
The Ox hath therefore stretch'd his Yoak in vain,
The Ploughman loft his Sweat, and the green Corn
"Path rotted, e'er his Youth attain'd a Beard :


The Fold stands empty in the drowned Field,
And Crows are fatted with the Murrion Flock,
The Nine-mens-morris is fill'd


with Mud,
And the queint 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 bleft;
Therefore the Moon, the Governess of Floods,
Pale in her Anger, washes all the Air;
That Rheumatick Diseases do abound.
And through this Distemperature, we see
The Seasons alter; hoary-headed Frosts
Fall in the fresh Lap of the Crimson Rose,
And on old Hyem's Chin 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 amazed World,
By their increase, now knows not which is which :
And this fame Progeny of Evil comes
From our Debate, from our Dissention,
We are their parents and Original.

Ob. Do you amend!it then, it lyes in you.
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling Boy,
To be my Henchman.

Queen. Set your Heart at rest,
The Fairy-land buys not the Child of me.
His Mother was a Votress of


Order, And in the spiced Indian Air by Night Full often the hath goslipe by my side, And fate with me on Neptune's yellow Sands, Marking thembarked Traders of the Flood, When we have laught to see the Sails conceive, And grow big-bellied with the wanton Wind: Which she with pretty and with swimming Gate, Following (her Womb then rich with my young Squire) Would imitate, and fail upon the Land, To fetch me Trifles, and return again, As from a Voyage rich with Merchandize. But she being mortal of that Boy did dye,


And for her sake I do rear up her Boy,
And for her fake I will not part with him.

Ob. How long within this Wood intend you stay?
Queen. Perchance 'till after Theseus's Wedding-day:
If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And see our Moon-light Revels, go with us;
If not, fhun me and I will spare your Haunts.

Ob. Give me that Boy, and I will go with thee.

Queen. Not for thy fairy Kingdom. Fairies away : we Thall chide downright, if I longer stay,

[Exeunt. Ob. Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this Grove, 'Till I torment thee for this Injury. My gentle Puck come hither; thou remembrest Since that I sate 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 sor madly from their Sphears, To hear the Sea-maid's Musick.

Puck. I remember.

Ob. That very time I saw, but thou could'st not,
Flying between the cold Moon and the Earth,
Cupid all arm'd; a certain Aim he took
At a fair Veftal, throned by the West,
And loos’d his Love-shaft smartly from his Bow,
As it would pierce a hundred thousand Hearts;
But I might see young Cupid's fiery Shaft
Quench'd in the chafte Beams of the watry Moon,
And the Imperial Votress passed on,
In Maiden-Meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark'd 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 shew'd thee once,
The Juice of it, on sleeping Eye-lids laid,
Will make a Man or woman madly doat
Upon the next live Creature that it sees.
Fetch me this Herb, and be thou here again
E'er the Leviathan can swim a League.


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Puck. I'll put a Girdle about the Earth in forty Minutes,

Ob. Having once this Juice,
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the Liquor of it in her Eyes:
The next thing which she waking looks upon,
(Be it on Lyon, Bear, or Wolf, or Bull,
Or medling Monkey, or on busie Ape)
She shall pursue it with the Soul of Love;
And e'er I take this Charm off from her Sights
(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 over-hear their Conference.

Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
Dem. 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'ft me they were ftol'n into this Wood;
And here am I, and Wood within this Wood,
Because I cannot meet my Hermia.


thee gone, and follow me no more.
Hel. 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.

Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair ?
Or rather do I not in plainest Truth,

you I do not, nor I cannot love you?
Hel. And even for that do I love thee 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,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me Leaves
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 do your Dog?

Dem. Tempt not too much the Hatred of my Spirit,
For I am fick when I do look on thee.

Hel. And I am fick when I look not on you.



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Dem. You do impeach your Modesty too much,
To leave the City, and commit your self
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To trust the Opportunity of Night,
And the ill Counsel of a defart Place,
With the rich Worth of your Virginity.

Hel. Your Virtue is my Privilege ; for that
It is not Night when I do fee your Face;
Therefore I think I am not in the Night.
Nor doth this Wood lack Worlds of Company,
For you, in my respe&, are all the World.
Then how can it be faid I am alone,
When all the World is here to look on me?

Dem. I'll run from thee and hide me in the Brakes,
And leave thee to the Mercy of wild Beasts.

Hel. The wildest hath not such a Heart as you;
Run when you will, the Story shall be changd:
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the Chace;
The Dove pursues the Griffin, the mild Hind
Makes speed to catch the Tyger. Baotless speed!
When Cowardize pursues, and Valour flies.

Dem. I will noc ftay thy Questions, let me go;
Or if you follow me, do not believe,
But I shall do thee Mischief in the Woad.

Hel. Ay, in the Temple, in the Town and Field
You do me Mischief. Fye, Demetrins,
Your Wrongs do fet a Scandal on my Sex:
We cannot fight for Love, as Men may do;
We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.
I follow thee, and make a Heaven of Hell,
To dye upon the Hand I love fo well.

Ob. Fare thee well, Nymph, e'er he do leave this Grove
Thou shalt fy him, and he shall seek thy Love.
Hast thou the Flower there? Welcome Wanderer.

Enter Puck.
Puck. Ay, there it is.

Ob. I pray thee give it me;
I know a Bank where the wild Time blows,
Where the Oxflips and the nodding Violet grows,
Quite over cannopy'd with luscious Woodbine,
With sweet Musk Roses, and with Eglatine,


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