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

SCENE II. 1

Enter OBERON.

Ob. I wonder, if Titania be awak'd;
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.

Enter PUCK.

Here comes my meffenger.-How now, mad fpirit?
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and confecrated bower,
While fhe 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 Thefeus' nuptial day.
The fhallowest thick-ikin of that barren fort,
Who Pyramus prefented, in their sport
Forfook his fcene, and enter'd in a brake:
When I did him at this advantage take,
An afs's nowl I fixed on his head;
Anon, his Thisbe must be answered,

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

And, at our stamp, here o'er and over one falls;
He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.
Their fenfe, thus weak, loft with their fears, thus strong,
Made fenfeless things begin to do them wrong:

For

For briers and thorns at their apparel fnatch;
Some, fleeves; fome, hats: from yielders all things
I led them on in this distracted fear,
[catch.
And left sweet Pyramus tranflated there:
When in that moment (fo it came to pass)
Titania wak'd, and ftraightway lov'd an afs.

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

Puck. I took him fleeping,-that is finish'd too,And the Athenian woman by his fide

That, when he wak'd, of foree fhe must be ey'd.

Enter DEMETRIUS, and HERMIA.

Ob. Stand clofe; this is the fame Athenian. Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man. Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you fo? Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worfe; For thou, I fear, haft given me cause to curse. If thou haft flain Lyfander in his fleep, Being o'er fhoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too.

The fun was not so true unto the day,

As he to me: Would he have ftol'n away
From fleeping Hermia? I'll believe as foon,
This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon
May through the centre creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with the Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou haft murder'd him;
So fhould a murderer look; fo dead, fo grim.

Dem. So fhould the murder'd look; and so should I, Pierc'd through the heart with your ftern cruelty:

Yet

Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering fphere.

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

Dem. I had rather give his carcafe to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv❜ft me past the

bounds

Of maiden's patience.

Haft thou flain him then? Henceforth be never number'd among men! O! Once tell true, tell true, even for my fake; Durft thou have look'd upon him, being awake, And haft thou kill'd him fleeping? O brave touch! Could not a worm, an adder, do fo much? An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou ferpent, never adder stung. Dem. You fpend your paffion on a mifpris'd mood: I am not guilty of Lyfander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. An if I could, what fhould I get Her. A privilege, never to fee me more.And from thy hated prefence part I fo: See me no more, whether he be dead or no.

therefore?

[Exit.

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

If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down. Ob. What haft thou done? thou haft mistaken quite,

And laid the love-juice on fome true love's fight:
Of thy mifprifion muft perforce enfue

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

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

[Exil.

[troth, Ob. About the wood go fwifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find : All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer With fighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: By fome illufion fee thou bring her here; I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear. Puck. I go, I go; look, how I go; Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. Ob. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye! When his love he doth efpy, Let her fhine as gloriously As the Venus of the sky.When thou wak'ft, if she be by, Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter Puck.

Puck. Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand;

And the youth miftook by me,

Pleading for a lover's fee;

Shall we their fond pageant fee?

Lord, what fools thefe mortals be!

Ob. Stand afide: the noise they make,

Will caufe Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two, at once, woo one; That must needs be fport alone:

And thofe things do best please me,

That befal prepofterously.

Enter

Enter LYSANDER, and HELENA.

Lyf. Why fhould you think, that I should woo in
Scorn and derifion never come in tears: [fcorn?
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows fo born,
In their nativity all truth appears.

How can these things in me feem fcorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true?

Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilifh-holy fray!
Thefe 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 fcales,
Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.

Lyf. I had no judgment, when to her I fwore.
Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.
Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [ Awaking.] O Helen, goddefs, nymph, per-
fect, divine!

To what, my love, fhall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in fhow

Thy lips, thofe kifling cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' fnow,
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow,
When thou hold'ft up thy hand: O let me kifs
This princefs of pure white, this feal of blifs!
Hel. O fpight! O hell! I fee you all are bent
To fet 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 muft join, in fouls, to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in fhow,
You would not ufe a gentle lady fo;

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