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When thou wak'st, let love forbid

Sleep his seat on thy eyelid !

So awake when I am gone;

For I must now to Oberon.

Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running

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[Exit.

Helena. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. Demetrius. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

Helena. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so.
Demetrius. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.

[Exit.

Helena. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.

How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears;
If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.

No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,

For beasts that meet me run away for fear;
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine.
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?—
But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep?

I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.,

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Lysander. [Awaking.] And run through fire I will for

thy sweet sake.

Transparent Helena !

Nature shows art,

That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius ? O, how fit a word

Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

Helena. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so. What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?

Yet Hermia still loves you; then be content.
Lysander. Content with Hermia!

repent

The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia but Helena I love ;

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No;

I do

Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason sway'd,
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season;
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason,
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will
And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
Love's stories written in love's richest book.

Helena. Wherefore was I to this keen

born?

When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is 't not enough, is 't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,

Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?

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mockery

Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,

In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well; perforce I must confess
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
O, that a lady, of one man refus'd,

Should of another therefore be abus'd!

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[Exit.

Lysander. She sees not Hermia.-Hermia, sleep

thou there;

And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things

The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive,
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,

Of all be hated, but the most of me!

And, all my powers, address your love and might
To honour Helen and to be her knight!

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[Exit.

Hermia. [Awaking.] Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best

To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!

Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear:
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.
Lysander! what, remov'd? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear;
Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
No? then I well perceive you are not nigh;
Either death or you I'll find immediately.

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[Exit.

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Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING

Bottom. Are we all met?

Quince. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn-brake our tiring-house; and we will do it in action as we will do it before the duke. Bottom. Peter Quince,

Quince. What sayest thou, bully Bottom?

Bottom. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot 10 abide. How answer you that?

Snout. By'r lakin, a parlous fear.

Starveling. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

Bottom. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue; and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not killed indeed; and, for the more better assurance, tell them that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver. This will put them out of fear. 20 Quince. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.

Bottom. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Starveling. I fear it, I promise you.

Bottom. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves to bring in God shield us!

a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing, for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought 30 to look to 't.

Snout. Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.

Bottom. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he

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