hip'd humble bee on the top of a thistle; and, good Monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, Monsieur; and, good Monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a honey-bag, Signior. Where's Monsieur Mustard seed? Must. Ready. Bot. Give me your neif, Monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good Monsieur. Must. What's your will? Bot. Nothing, good Monsieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, Monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some musick: my sweet love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in musick: et us have the tongs aud the bones.. Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat, Bot. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful, or two, of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and 1 will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. So doth the woodbine, the svyeet honeysuckle, VOL. III. 10 Gently entwist, Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [they sleep. OBERON advances. Enter Puck. Obe. Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For meeting her of late, behind the wood, And think no more of this night's accidents, [Touching her eyes with an herb. See, as thou wast wont to see: Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet- Queen. Tita. How came these things to pass? - head. Robin, take off this Titania, musick call; and strike more dead sleep. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep. Obe. Sound, musick. [Still musick.] Come, my Queen, take hands with me, And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. Now thou and I are new in amity; And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly, There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Puck. Fairy King, attend, and mark; I do hear the morning lark Obe. Then, my Queen, in silence sad, Tita. Come, my Lord; and in our flight, [Exeunt. [Horns sound within. Enter THESEUS, Hippolyta, EGEUs, and train. The. Go, one of you, find out the forester; For now our observation is perform'd: And since we have the vaward of the day, We will, fair Queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction. Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flewd, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook - knee'd, amd dewlap'd like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, Judge, when you hear. But, soft; what nymphs are these? Ege. My Lord, this is my daughter here asleep; And this, Lysander! this Demetrius is; This Helena, old Nedar's Helena: I wonder of their being here together. The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity. But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with Horns, and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, HERMIA, and HELENA, wake and start up. The. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past; Begin these wood - birds but to couple now? [He and the rest kneel to THESEUS, The. I pray you all, stand up. I know, you two are rival enemies; How comes this gentle concord in the world, To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity? Lys. My Lord, I shall reply amazedly, Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be Without the peril of the Athenian law. Ege. Enough, enough, my Lord; you have enough: I beg the law, the law, upon his head. They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me: You, of your wife; and me, of my consent; |