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American Shakespeare Center, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 16, 2013.
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A Midsummer Night's Dream (Quarto 1, 1600)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Suzanne Westfall
Not Peer Reviewed
A Midsommer nightes dreame.
1520Clo. Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsieur, get you your
weapons in your hand, and kill me a red hipt Humble Bee,
on the toppe of a thistle: and good Mounsieur, bring mee
the hony bagge. Doe not fret your selfe too much, in the
action, Mounsieur: and good Mounsieur haue a care, the
1525honybagge breake not, I wold be loath to haue you ouer-
flowen with a honibag signior. Where's Mounsieur Must-
tardseede?
Must. Readie.
Clo. Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseede. Pray
1530you, leaue your curtsie, good Mounsieur.
Must. What's your will?
Clo. Nothing good Mounsieur, but to helpe Caualery
Cobwebbe, to scratch. I must to the Barbers, Mounsieur.
For me thinkes I am maruailes hairy about the face. And I
1535am such a tender Asse, if my haire doe but tickle mee, I
must scratch.
Tita. What, wilt thou heare some musique, my sweete
loue?
Clo. I haue a reasonable good eare in musique. Lets
1540haue the tongs, and the bones.
Tyta. Or, say sweete loue, what thou desirest to eate.
Clo. Truely a pecke of prouander. I could mounch your
good dry Oates. Me thinkes, I haue a great desire to a bot-
1545tle of hay. Good hay, sweete hay hath no fellow.
Ty. I haue a venturous Fairy, that shall seeke the Squirils
And fetch thee newe nuts.
1550Clo. I had rather haue a handfull, or two of dryed pease.
But, I pray you, let none of your people stirre me: I haue an
exposition of sleepe come vpon mee.
Tyta. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my armes.
Faieries be gon, and be alwaies away.
1555So doth the woodbine, the sweete Honisuckle,
Gently entwist: the female Iuy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme.
F3
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