Internet Shakespeare Editions


Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • Title: A Midsummer Night's Dream (Quarto 1, 1600)
  • Editor: Suzanne Westfall
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-465-3

    Copyright Suzanne Westfall. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Suzanne Westfall
    Not Peer Reviewed

    A Midsummer Night's Dream (Quarto 1, 1600)

    A Midsommer nightes dreame.
    In maiden meditation, fancy free.
    Yet markt I, where the bolt of Cupid fell.
    It fell vpon a little westerne flower;
    Before, milke white; now purple, with loues wound,
    545And maidens call it, Loue in idlenesse.
    Fetch mee that flowre: the herbe I shewed thee once.
    The iewce of it, on sleeping eyeliddes laide,
    Will make or man or woman madly dote,
    Vpon the next liue creature that it sees.
    550Fetch mee this herbe, and be thou here againe
    Ere the Leuiathan can swimme a league.
    Pu. Ile put a girdle, roūd about the earth, in forty minutes.
    Oberon. Hauing once this iuice,
    555Ile watch Titania, when she is a sleepe,
    And droppe the liquor of it, in her eyes:
    The next thing then she, waking, lookes vpon
    (Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull,
    On medling Monky, or on busie Ape)
    560She shall pursue it, with the soule of Loue.
    And ere I take this charme, from of her sight
    (As I can take it with another herbe)
    Ile make her render vp her Page, to mee.
    But, who comes here? I am inuisible,
    565And I will ouerheare their conference.
    Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
    Deme. I loue thee not: therefore pursue me not,
    Where is Lysander, and faire Hermia?
    The one Ile stay: the other stayeth me.
    570Thou toldst me, they were stolne vnto this wood:
    And here am I, and wodde, within this wood:
    Because I cannot meete my Hermia.
    Hence, get the gone, and follow mee no more.
    Hel. You draw mee, you hard hearted Adamant:
    575But yet you draw not Iron. For my heart
    Is true as steele. Leaue you your power to draw,