Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on

me;

Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there : Impose some service on me for thy love.

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Biron, Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue

Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit. [brain,
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won,)
You shall this twelvemonth term, from day to
day,

Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit [be,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat It cannot be; it is impossible: [of death? Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. [spirit,

Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
Deafd with the clamours of their own dear
groans,

Will hear your idle scorns, continue them,
And I will have you and that fault withal;
But if they will not; throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.

Biron. A twelvemonth! well, befall what will befall,

I'll jest a twelvemonth in a hospital.

Prin. [To the King.] Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.

your way.

King. No, madam: we will bring you on (old play; Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an Jack hath not Jill; these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth And then 'twill end. [and a day, Biron. That's too long for a play. Enter Armado.

Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.

Spring.

SONG.

When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O, word of fear!
Unpleasing to a married ear.

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,

When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer
smocks,

The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O, word of fear!
Unpleasing to a married ear.

Winter. When icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-who;

To-whit, to-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-who;

To-whit, to-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after

[Exeunt.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Athens. A Room in the Palace of Theseus.

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and Attendants.

The. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon: but, oh, methinks how slow
This old moon wanes ! she lingers my desires
Like to a step-dame, or a dowager,
Long withering out a young man's revenue.
Hip. Four days will quickly steep them-
selves in nights;

Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.

The.
Go, Philostrate,
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth:
Turn melancholy forth to funerals,-
The pale companion is not for our pomp.-
[Exit Philostrate.
Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.
Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lysander, and
Demetrius.

Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned
duke!
[with thee?
The. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news
Ege. Full of vexation come I, with com-
plaint

Against my child, my daughter Hermia.-
Stand forth, Demetrius.-My noble lord,

This man hath my consent to marry her.
Stand forth, Lysander;-and, my gracious
duke,
[child :-
This man hath 'witch'd the bosom of my
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her
rhymes,

And interchang'd love-tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung.
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
And stol'n th impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, con-
ceits,
[sengers
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; mes-
Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth :
With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's

heart;

Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness:-and, my gracious
duke,

Be it so she will not here before your grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,

I beg the ancient privilege of Athens;
As she is mine, I may dispose of her :
Which shall be either to this gentleman,
Or to her death, according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.

The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd,
fair maid:

To you, your father should be as a god ;
One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and
To whom you are but as a form in wax, [one
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
Her. So is Lysander.
The.

In himself he is;
But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice,

The other must be held the worthier.
Her. I would my father look'd but with my

eves.

The. Rather, your eyes must with his judgment look.

Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. I know not by what power I am made bold, Nor how it may concern my modesty,

In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
But I beseech your grace, that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

The. Either to die the death, or to abjure For ever the society of men.

Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires: Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,

[moon.

You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless
Thrice blessed they, that master so their
blood,

To undergo such maiden pilgrimage:
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
Than that which, withering on the virgin
thorn,

Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.
Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
The. Take time to pause; and, by the

next new moon,

(The sealing-day betwixt my love and me
For everlasting bond of fellowship,)
Upon that day either prepare to die
For disobedience to your father's will.
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
Or on Diana's altar to protest,
For aye, austerity and single life.

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia :-and, sander, yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

The. I must confess that I have heard so much, [thereof; And with Demetrius thought to have spoke But, being over-full of self-affairs, My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; And come, Egeus: you shall go with me, I have some private schooling for you both.For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself To fit your fancies to your father's will; Or else the law of Athens yields you up (Which by no means we may extenuate) To death, or to a vow of single life.Come, my Hippolyta : what cheer, my love?— Demetrius, and Egeus, go along : I must employ you in some business Against our nuptial; and confer with you Of something nearly that concerns yourselves. Ege. With duty and desire we follow you. [Exeunt Thes., Hip., Ege., Dem., and train. Lys. How now, my love! Why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the roses there to fade so fast? Her. Belike, for want of rain, which I could

well

Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.

Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could Could ever hear by tale or history, [read, The course of true love never did run smooth. But, either it was different in blood,

Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low !

Lys. Or else misgraffèd in respect of years,Her. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young! [friends,Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of Her. O hell! to choose love by another's

eye!

Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him. Ege. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my

love;

And what is mine my love shall render him;
And she is mine, and all my right of her
I do estate unto Demetrius.

Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his ;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank d,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
And, which is more than all these boasts can
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia :
Why should not I, then, prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head, [be,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

And ere a man hath power to say,-Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up :
So quick bright things come to confusion.

[cross'd, [sighs,

Her. If, then, true lovers have been ever
It stands as an edict in destiny:
Then let us teach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross,
As due to love as thoughts, and dreams, and
Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
Lys. A good persuasion: therefore, hear
me, Hermia.

I have a widow aunt, a dowager
Of great revenue, and she hath no child :
From Athens is her house remote seven
leagues;

And she respects me as her only son.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
And to that place the sharp Athenian law
Cannot pursue us. If thou lov'st me, then,
Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;

And in the wood, a league without the town,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
To do observance to a morn of May,
There will I stay for thee.

Her.
My good Lysander!
I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow;
By his best arrow with the golden head;
By the simplicity of Venus' doves;

By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage |
When the false Trojan under sail was seen;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke :—
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys. Keep promise, love. Look, here
comes Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God speed fair Helena ! Whither away?

Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair : O happy fair! Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air

More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds

appear.

Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia! ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your
eye,
[melody;
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart!
Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
Hel. O that your frowns would teach my
smiles such skill!

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O that my prayers could such affection move! [me.

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. Hel. None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine! [my face; Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see Lysander and myself will fly this place. Before the time I did Lysander see, Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me: O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell! Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,) Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. Her. And in the wood where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet, There my Lysander and myself shall meet ;

[Exit.

Hel. How happy some, o'er other some

can be!

Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know, what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the
mind;

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste :
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste :
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where :
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine:
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he, to-morrow night,
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expense:
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again.

[Exit. SCENE II.—Athens. A Room in a Cottage. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.

Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.

Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and the duchess on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.-Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves. the weaver. Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, Bot. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.