Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman? PEAS-BLOSSOM. Peas-blossom. Воттом. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peasblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too. Your name, BOTTOM. Good Master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. house. I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Mustard-seed. TITANIA. Come, wait upon him: lead him to my bower. Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Part of the Wood. Enter OBERON. OBERON. 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 messenger. How now, mad spirit? PUCK. My mistress with a monster is in love. Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, Were met together to rehearse a play, The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, An ass's nowl I fixed on his head : Anon, his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky, So, at his sight, away his fellows fly, And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls : He murther cries, and help from Athens calls. Their sense, thus weak, lost with their fears, thus strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch, Some, sleeves, some, hats; from yielders all things catch. And left sweet Pyramus translated there ; This falls out better than I could devise. PUCK. I took him sleeping, (that is finish'd too,) And the Athenian woman by his side, That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd. Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA. OBERON. Stand close: this is the same Athenian. PUCK. This is the woman; but not this the man. DEMETRIUS. O! why rebuke you him that loves you so? HERMIA. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, The sun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have stol'n away DEMETRIUS. So should the murther'd look, and so should I, HERMIA. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? DEMETRIUS. I'd rather give his carcass to my hounds. HERMIA. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds O! once tell true; tell true, e'en for my sake; DEMETRIUS. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood : I am not guilty of Lysander's blood, Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. HERMIA. I pray thee, tell me, then, that he is well. DEMETRIUS. And, if I could, what should I get therefore? HERMIA. A privilege, never to see me more. And from thy hated presence part I so; See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. DEMETRIUS. There is no following her in this fierce vein : OBERON. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite, PUCK. Then Fate o'errules; that one man holding troth, OBERON. About the wood go swifter than the wind, All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer [Lies down. With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear. By some illusion see thou bring her here : I'll charm his eyes against she doth appear. PUCK. I go, I go; look how I go; Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. OBERON. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Enter PUCK PUCK. Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, [Exit. |