Come now, a roundel and a fairy song;

2.2.2652Then, for the third part of a minute hence,

2.2.3653Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,

2.2.4654Some war with reremise for their leathern wings,

2.2.5655To make my small elves coats, and some keep back

2.2.6656The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders

2.2.7657At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep,

2.2.8658Then to your offices, and let me rest.

What thou seest when thou dost wake

2.2.27679Do it for thy true love take;

2.2.28680Love and languish for his sake.

2.2.29681Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,

2.2.30682Pard, or boar with bristled hair,

2.2.31683In thy eye that shall appear,

2.2.32684When thou wak'st, it is thy dear.

2.2.33685Wake when some vile thing is near.

Fair love, you faint with wandering in the woods,

2.2.35688And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way.

2.2.36689We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,

2.2.37690And tarry for the comfort of the day.

Be it so, Lysander. Find you out a bed,

2.2.39692For I upon this bank will rest my head.

One turf shall serve as pillow for us both,

2.2.41694One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear,

2.2.43696Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.

O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence.

2.2.45698Love takes the meaning in love's conference.

2.2.46699I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,

2.2.47700So that but one heart can you make of it.

2.2.48701Two bosoms interchanged with an oath,

2.2.49702So then two bosoms and a single troth.

2.2.50703Then by your side no bed-room me deny,

2.2.51704For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

Lysander riddles very prettily.

2.2.53706Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,

2.2.54707If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.

2.2.55708But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy

2.2.56709Lie further off, in human modesty,

2.2.57710Such separation, as may well be said,

2.2.58711Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid.

2.2.59712So far be distant, and good night sweet friend.

2.2.60713Thy love ne're alter till thy sweet life end.

Amen, amen, to that fair prayer say I,

2.2.62715And then end life when I end loyalty.

2.2.63716Here is my bed; sleep give thee all his rest.

With half that wish the wisher's eyes be pressed.

Through the Forest have I gone,

2.2.66720But Athenian find I none

2.2.67721On whose eyes I might approve

2.2.68722This flower's force in stirring love.

2.2.69723Night and silence. Who is here?

2.2.70724Weeds of Athens he doth wear.

2.2.71725This is he, my master said,

2.2.72726Despisèd the Athenian maid;

2.2.73727And here the maiden, sleeping sound

2.2.74728On the dank and dirty ground.

2.2.75729Pretty soul, she durst not lie

2.2.76730Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.

2.2.77731Churl, upon thy eyes I throw

2.2.78732All the power this charm doth owe:

2.2.79733When thou wak'st, let love forbid

2.2.80734Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.

2.2.81735So awake when I am gone,

2.2.82736For I must now to Oberon.

Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius!

I charge thee, hence and do not haunt me thus!

O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.

Stay on thy peril! I alone will go.

Oh, I am out of breath in this fond chase.

2.2.88744The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

2.2.89745Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'r she lies,

2.2.90746For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.

2.2.91747How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears.

2.2.92748If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers.

2.2.93749No, no! I am as ugly as a bear,

2.2.94750For beasts that meet me run away for fear.

2.2.95751Therefore, no marvel though Demetrius

2.2.96752Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.

2.2.97753What wicked and dissembling glass of mine

2.2.98754Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?

2.2.99755But who is here? Lysander, on the ground.

2.2.100756Dead? Or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.

2.2.101757Lysander, if you live, good sir awake.

And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake!

2.2.103759Transparent Helena, nature shows her art,

2.2.104760That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.

2.2.105761Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a word

2.2.106762Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

Do not say so Lysander! Say not so.

2.2.108764What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?

2.2.109765Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.

Content with Hermia? No, I do repent

2.2.111767The tedious minutes I with her have spent.

2.2.112768Not Hermia, but Helena now I love.

2.2.113769Who will not change a raven for a dove?

2.2.114770The will of man is by his reason swayed,

2.2.115771And reason says you are the worthier maid.

2.2.116772Things growing are not ripe until their season;

2.2.117773So, I being young, till now ripe not to reason.

2.2.118774And touching now the point of human skill,

2.2.119775Reason becomes the marshal to my will,

2.2.120776And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook

2.2.121777Love's stories, written in love's richest book.

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?

2.2.123779When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?

2.2.124780Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,

2.2.125781That I did never, no, nor never can

2.2.126782Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,

2.2.127783But you must flout my insufficiency?

2.2.128784Good troth, you do me wrong! Good-sooth, you do,

2.2.129785In such disdainful manner me to woo.

2.2.130786But, fare you well. Perforce, I must confess,

2.2.131787I thought you lord of more true gentleness.

2.2.132788Oh, that a lady of one man refus'd

789Should of another therefore be abused.

She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there,

2.2.134791And never mayst thou come Lysander near.

2.2.135792For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things

2.2.136793The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,

2.2.137794Or, as the heresies that men do leave

2.2.138795Are hated most of those that did deceive,

2.2.139796So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy,

2.2.140797Of all be hated, but the most of me.

2.2.141798And all my powers address your love and might

2.2.142799To honor Helen, and to be her knight.

Help me Lysander, help me! Do thy best

2.2.144801To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast.

2.2.145802Aye me, for pity. What a dream was here?

2.2.146803Lysander, look how I do quake with fear!

2.2.147804Methought a serpent eat my heart away,

2.2.148805And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.

2.2.149806Lysander? What, removed? Lysander? Lord!

2.2.150807What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word?

2.2.151808Alack! Where are you? Speak, and if you hear!

2.2.152809Speak, of all loves! I sound almost with fear.

2.2.153810No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh.

2.2.154811Either death or you I'll find immediately.