| TITANIA |
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, |
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| |
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, |
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And stick musk–roses in thy sleek smooth head, |
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| |
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. |
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| BOTTOM |
Where's Peaseblossom? |
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| PEASEBLOSSOM |
Ready. |
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| BOTTOM |
Scratch my head Peaseblossom. Where's Mounsieur Cobweb? |
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| COBWEB |
Ready. |
10 |
| BOTTOM |
Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your |
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| |
weapons in your hand, and kill me a red–hipped |
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| |
humble–bee on the top of a thistle; and, good |
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| |
mounsieur, bring me the honey–bag. Do not fret |
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| |
yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, |
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good mounsieur, have a care the honey–bag break not; |
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| |
I would be loath to have you overflown with a |
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| |
honey–bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed? |
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| MUSTARDSEED |
Ready. |
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| BOTTOM |
Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, |
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| |
leave your courtesy, good mounsieur. |
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| MUSTARDSEED |
What's your Will? |
20 |
| BOTTOM |
Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb |
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| |
to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; for |
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| |
methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I |
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| |
am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, |
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I must scratch. |
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| TITANIA |
What, wilt thou hear some music, |
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| |
my sweet love? |
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| BOTTOM |
I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have |
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| |
the tongs and the bones. |
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| TITANIA |
Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. |
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| BOTTOM |
Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good |
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| |
dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle |
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| |
of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. |
31 |
| TITANIA |
I have a venturous fairy that shall seek |
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| |
The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. |
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| BOTTOM |
I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. |
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But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me: I |
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| |
have an exposition of sleep come upon me. |
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| TITANIA |
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. |
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Fairies, begone, and be all ways away. |
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Exeunt fairies. |
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So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle |
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Gently entwist; the female ivy so |
40 |
| |
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. |
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O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! |
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| |
They sleep. |
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Enter PUCK |
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| OBERON |
Advancing. |
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See'st thou this sweet sight? |
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Her dotage now I do begin to pity: |
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For, meeting her of late behind the wood, |
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| |
Seeking sweet favours from this hateful fool, |
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I did upbraid her and fall out with her; |
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| |
For she his hairy temples then had rounded |
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With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; |
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And that same dew, which sometime on the buds |
50 |
| |
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, |
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| |
Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes |
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Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. |
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When I had at my pleasure taunted her |
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And she in mild terms begg'd my patience, |
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I then did ask of her her changeling child; |
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Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent |
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To bear him to my bower in fairy land. |
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And now I have the boy, I will undo |
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| |
This hateful imperfection of her eyes: |
60 |
| |
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp |
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| |
From off the head of this Athenian swain; |
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That, he awaking when the other do, |
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May all to Athens back again repair |
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And think no more of this night's accidents |
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But as the fierce vexation of a dream. |
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But first I will release the fairy queen. |
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Touching her eyes with an herb.. |
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Be as thou wast wont to be; |
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See as thou wast wont to see: |
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Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower |
70 |
| |
Hath such force and blessed power. |
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Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. |
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| TITANIA |
My Oberon! what visions have I seen! |
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Methought I was enamour'd of an ass. |
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| OBERON |
There lies your love. |
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| TITANIA |
How came these things to pass? |
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O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! |
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| OBERON |
Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head. |
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| |
Titania, music call; and strike more dead |
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| |
Than common sleep of all these five the sense. |
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| TITANIA |
Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! |
80 |
| |
Music, still |
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| PUCK |
Now, when thou wakest, with thine |
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| |
own fool's eyes peep. |
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| OBERON |
Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me, |
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And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. |
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Now thou and I are new in amity, |
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And will to–morrow midnight solemnly |
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Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly, |
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| |
And bless it to all fair prosperity: |
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| |
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be |
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| |
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity. |
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| PUCK |
Fairy king, attend, and mark: |
90 |
| |
I do hear the morning lark. |
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| OBERON |
Then, my queen, in silence sad, |
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| |
Trip we after the night's shade: |
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| |
We the globe can compass soon, |
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Swifter than the wandering moon. |
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| TITANIA |
Come, my lord, and in our flight |
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Tell me how it came this night |
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That I sleeping here was found |
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With these mortals on the ground. |
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Sleepers lie still. Exeunt [fairies]. |
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| |
Horns winded within |
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| THESEUS |
Go, one of you, find out the forester; |
100 |
| |
For now our observation is perform'd; |
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| |
And since we have the vaward of the day, |
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My love shall hear the music of my hounds. |
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Uncouple in the western valley; let them go: |
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Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. |
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| |
Exit an Attendant |
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| |
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, |
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| |
And mark the musical confusion |
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| |
Of hounds and echo in conjunction. |
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| HIPPOLYTA |
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, |
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| |
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear |
110 |
| |
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear |
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| |
Such gallant chiding: for, besides the groves, |
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| |
The skies, the fountains, every region near |
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| |
Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard |
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| |
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. |
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| THESEUS |
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, |
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| |
So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung |
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| |
With ears that sweep away the morning dew; |
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| |
Crook–knee'd, and dew–lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; |
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| |
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, |
120 |
| |
Each under each. A cry more tuneable |
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| |
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, |
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| |
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly: |
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| |
Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these? |
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| EGEUS |
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; |
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| |
And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is; |
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| |
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena: |
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| |
I wonder of their being here together. |
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| THESEUS |
No doubt they rose up early to observe |
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| |
The rite of May, and hearing our intent, |
130 |
| |
Came here in grace our solemnity. |
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| |
But speak, Egeus; is not this the day |
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| |
That Hermia should give answer of her choice? |
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| EGEUS |
It is, my lord. |
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| THESEUS |
Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. |
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| |
Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past: |
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| |
Begin these wood–birds but to couple now? |
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| LYSANDER |
Pardon, my lord. |
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| THESEUS |
I pray you all, stand up. |
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| |
I know you two are rival enemies: |
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| |
How comes this gentle concord in the world, |
140 |
| |
That hatred is so far from jealousy, |
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| |
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity? |
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| LYSANDER |
My lord, I shall reply amazedly, |
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| |
Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear, |
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| |
I cannot truly say how I came here; |
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| |
But, as I think,––for truly would I speak, |
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| |
And now do I bethink me, so it is,–– |
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| |
I came with Hermia hither: our intent |
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| |
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, |
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| |
Without the peril of the Athenian law. |
150 |
| EGEUS |
Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: |
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| |
I beg the law, the law, upon his head. |
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| |
They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius, |
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| |
Thereby to have defeated you and me, |
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| |
You of your wife and me of my consent, |
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| |
Of my consent that she should be your wife. |
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| DEMETRIUS |
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, |
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| |
Of this their purpose hither to this wood; |
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| |
And I in fury hither follow'd them, |
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| |
Fair Helena in fancy following me. |
160 |
| |
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,–– |
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| |
But by some power it is,––my love to Hermia, |
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| |
Melted as the snow, seems to me now |
|
| |
As the remembrance of an idle gaud |
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| |
Which in my childhood I did dote upon; |
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| |
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, |
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| |
The object and the pleasure of mine eye, |
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| |
Is only Helena. To her, my lord, |
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| |
Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia: |
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| |
But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food; |
170 |
| |
But, as in health, come to my natural taste, |
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| |
Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, |
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| |
And will for evermore be true to it. |
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| THESEUS |
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: |
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| |
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: |
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| |
And, for the morning now is something worn, |
|
| |
Our purposed hunting shall be set aside. |
180 |
| |
Away with us to Athens; three and three, |
|
| |
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity. |
|
| |
Come, Hippolyta. |
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| DEMETRIUS |
These things seem small and undistinguishable, |
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| HERMIA |
Methinks I see these things with parted eye, |
|
| |
When every thing seems double. |
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| HELENA |
So methinks: |
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| |
And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, |
|
| |
Mine own, and not mine own. |
|
| DEMETRIUS |
Are you sure |
|
| |
That we are awake? It seems to me |
190 |
| |
That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think |
|
| |
The duke was here, and bid us follow him? |
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| HERMIA |
Yea; and my father. |
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| HELENA |
And Hippolyta. |
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| LYSANDER |
And he did bid us follow to the temple. |
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| DEMETRIUS |
Why, then, we are awake: let's follow him |
|
| |
And by the way let us recount our dreams. |
|
| |
Exeunt |
|
| BOTTOM |
Awaking |
|
| |
When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh–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 |
206 |
| |
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 |
|
| |
latter end of a play, before the duke: |
|
| |
peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall |
|
| |
sing it at her death. |
|
| |
Exit |
|