Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
In sich disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well: perforce 1 must confess,
I thought you lord of

more true gentleness, o, that a lady, of one man refused, Should, of another, therefore be abused! [Exit.

She sees not Hermia. - Hermia, sleep thou never may'st thou

[there; The deepest Are hated most of those So thou, my surfeit, and or all be hated; but the most of me!

my heresy,

and to be her knight! [Exit. Her. (Starting.) Help me, Lysander, help me! do To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast ! Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear! Methought, a serpent eat my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel pres

out of hearing i gone ? no sound, no word?

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.

[Exit.

ACT 111. SCENE I.-The same.

The Queen of Fairies

lying asleep.
Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE,

SNOUT, and STARVELING.
Bot. Are we all met

Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearss! : This green plot shall be our will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.

Bot. Peter Quince,
Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom?
Bol. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus

D

and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw & sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?

Snout. By'rlakin, a parlous fear. Star. I believe, we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

Bot. 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.

Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.

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

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

Bot. 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 to look to it.

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

Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himsell must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, nos to fear, not to tremble; my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: No, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men are :and there, indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner.

Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight.

Snug. Doth the moon shine that night we play our Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanacki find out moonshine, find out moonshine.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night. Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement.

play?

Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head.
This, 0,--4s true as trues: horse, that yet would

never tire.
Pyr. I were fair, Thisby. I were only thine -

Quin. O monstrous ! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters ! fly, masters! help! [Exeunt Clowns.

Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through

brier;
Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,

A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

(Brit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me aleard.

Re-enter SNOUT. Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I seo on thee ?

Bot. What do you see ? you see an ass's head of gour own; do you !

Re-enter QUINCE. Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.

[8.rit. Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am Dot afraid.

(Sings.)
The ou sel-cock, so black of hue,

With orange-tawny bili,
The throstle with his note so true,

The wren with litlle quill;
Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

(aking.) Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

The plain-song cuckoo gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,

And dares not answer, nay
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird ?
who would give a bird the lie, though he cry cuckoo,
never so ?

1.

Tita. I
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,

pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again :
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me,
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.
Bof. Methinks

to say the truth, reason and love keep little

company

together some

neighbours will not make Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not so, neither : but if I had wit enough to get

can gleek upon occasion. Tila. Out odihishave enough to serve mine on tuent Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt of no.

summer still doth tend upon my state, And I do love thee: therefore, go with me; I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee; And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep: And I will purge thy mortal grossness so, That thou shalt like an siry spirit go. Peas-blossom ! Cobweb! Motht and Mustard-sced !

Enter four Fairies. 1 Pai. Heady. 2 Pai.

And I. 3 Fai.

And I.

Where shall we go?
Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman ;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes ;
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries;
The honey bags steal the humble bees,

for night-tapera, crop their waxen thighs,
To have my love to bed, and to arice is eyes,
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

1 Pai. Hail, mortal!
2 Fai. Hail
g

Fai. Hall!
4 Fai. Hail:
your worship's name.

Bnt. I cry your worships mercy, heartily.-I beseech, Cob. Cobweb.