for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? who And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me 129 Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days; the more the pity that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion. Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get The summer still doth tend upon my state; me; And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, That thou shalt like an airy spirit go. Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed! 140 Enter PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, and MUSTARDSEED. 150 Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; Cob. Hail! Moth. Hail! Mus. Hail! 160 Bot. I cry your worships mercy, heartily: I beseech your worship's name. Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman ? Peas. Peaseblossom. 170 Bot. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you, sir ? Mus. Mustardseed. Bot. Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower. ១ 181 Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. ✓ [Exeunt. -མ་ V 1 SCENE II. Another part of the wood. Enter OBERON. Obe. I wonder if Titania be awaked; Then, what it was that next came in her eye, Enter PUCK. Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit! Anon his Thisbe must be answered, When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, So, at his sight, away his fellows fly; And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; He murder 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; ΤΟ 20 Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch. 30 I led them on in this distracted fear, Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. Puck. I took him sleeping,-that is finish'd too,—— Enter HERMIA and DEMETRIUS. Obe. Stand close: this is the same Athenian. Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, The sun was not so true unto the day 40 50 As he to me: would he have stolen away From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon This whole earth may be bored and that the moon It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him; So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murder'd look, and so should I, Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me ? Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. 60 Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then? O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake! And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch! An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Dem. You spend your passion on a misprised mood: Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore? And from thy hated presence part I so: See me no more, whether he be dead or no. 70 80 [Exit. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein : So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down and sleeps. Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight: Of thy misprision must perforce ensue 98 Some true love turn'd and not a false turn'd true. ١١ Puck. Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find: All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, 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 do appear. |