| BOTTOM | |
Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your | |
| | weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped | 10 |
| | humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good | |
| | mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret | |
| | yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, | |
| | good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; | |
| | I would be loath to have you overflown with a | 15 |
| | honey-bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed? | |
| OBERON | |
[Advancing] Welcome, good Robin. | 45 |
| | See'st thou this sweet sight? | |
| | Her dotage now I do begin to pity: | |
| | For, meeting her of late behind the wood, | |
| | Seeking sweet favours from this hateful fool, | |
| | I did upbraid her and fall out with her; | 50 |
| | For she his hairy temples then had rounded | |
| | With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; | |
| | And that same dew, which sometime on the buds | |
| | Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, | |
| | Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes | 55 |
| | Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. | |
| | When I had at my pleasure taunted her | |
| | And she in mild terms begg'd my patience, | |
| | I then did ask of her her changeling child; | |
| | Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent | 60 |
| | To bear him to my bower in fairy land. | |
| | And now I have the boy, I will undo | |
| | This hateful imperfection of her eyes: | |
| | And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp | |
| | From off the head of this Athenian swain; | 65 |
| | That, he awaking when the other do, | |
| | May all to Athens back again repair | |
| | And think no more of this night's accidents | |
| | But as the fierce vexation of a dream. | |
| | But first I will release the fairy queen. | 70 |
| | Be as thou wast wont to be; | |
| | 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. | 75 |
| OBERON | |
Sound, music! 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 | 90 |
| | Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly, | |
| | And bless it to all fair prosperity: | |
| | There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be | |
| | Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity. | |
| THESEUS | |
Go, one of you, find out the forester; | 105 |
| | For now our observation is perform'd; | |
| | And since we have the vaward of the day, | |
| | My love shall hear the music of my hounds. | |
| | Uncouple in the western valley; let them go: | |
| | Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. | 110 |
| | [Exit an Attendant] |
| | We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, | |
| | And mark the musical confusion | |
| | Of hounds and echo in conjunction. | |
| HIPPOLYTA | |
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, | |
| | When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear | 115 |
| | 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. | 120 |
| THESEUS | |
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, | |
| | So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung | |
| | With ears that sweep away the morning dew; | |
| | Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; | |
| | Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, | 125 |
| | Each under each. A cry more tuneable | |
| | Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, | |
| | In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly: | |
| | Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these? | |
| LYSANDER | |
My lord, I shall reply amazedly, | |
| | Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear, | |
| | I cannot truly say how I came here; | 150 |
| | But, as I think,--for truly would I speak, | |
| | And now do I bethink me, so it is,-- | |
| | I came with Hermia hither: our intent | |
| | Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, | |
| | Without the peril of the Athenian law. | 155 |
| EGEUS | |
Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: | |
| | I beg the law, the law, upon his head. | |
| | They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius, | |
| | Thereby to have defeated you and me, | |
| | You of your wife and me of my consent, | 160 |
| | Of my consent that she should be your wife. | |
| DEMETRIUS | |
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, | |
| | Of this their purpose hither to this wood; | |
| | And I in fury hither follow'd them, | |
| | Fair Helena in fancy following me. | 165 |
| | But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,-- | |
| | But by some power it is,--my love to Hermia, | |
| | Melted as the snow, seems to me now | |
| | As the remembrance of an idle gaud | |
| | Which in my childhood I did dote upon; | 170 |
| | And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, | |
| | The object and the pleasure of mine eye, | |
| | Is only Helena. To her, my lord, | |
| | Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia: | |
| | But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food; | 175 |
| | But, as in health, come to my natural taste, | |
| | Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, | |
| | And will for evermore be true to it. | |
| THESEUS | |
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: | |
| | Of this discourse we more will hear anon. | 180 |
| | Egeus, I will overbear your will; | |
| | For in the temple by and by with us | |
| | These couples shall eternally be knit: | |
| | And, for the morning now is something worn, | |
| | Our purposed hunting shall be set aside. | 185 |
| | Away with us to Athens; three and three, | |
| | We'll hold a feast in great solemnity. | |
| | Come, Hippolyta. | |
| | [Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train] |
| BOTTOM | |
[Awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I will | |
| | answer: my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho! | 205 |
| | 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 | 210 |
| | 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 | |
| | of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not | 215 |
| | 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 | 220 |
| | latter end of a play, before the duke: | |
| | peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall | |
| | sing it at her death. | |
| | [Exit] |