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  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    650Enter Tytania Queene of Fairies, with her traine.
    Quee. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song:
    Then, for the third part of a minute hence,
    Some to kill cankers in the musk rose buds,
    Some warre with Reremise, for their lethren wings,
    655To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe backe
    The clamorous Owle, that nightly hootes and wonders
    At our queint spirits: Sing me now a sleepe:
    Then to your offices, and let mee rest.
    Fairies sing.
    660
    You spotted Snakes, with double tongue,
    Thorny Hedgehogges be not seene,
    Newts and blindewormes do no wrong,
    Come not neere our Fairy Queene.
    Philomele, with melody,
    665Sing in our sweete Lullaby,
    Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby,
    Neuer harme, nor spell, nor charme,
    Come our louely lady nigh.
    So good night, with lullaby.
    6701. Fai. Weauing Spiders come not heere:
    Hence you long legd Spinners, hence:
    Beetles blacke approach not neere:
    Worme nor snaile doe no offence.
    Philomele with melody, &c.
    6752. Fai. Hence away: now all is well:
    One aloofe, stand Centinell.
    EnterOberon.
    Ob. What thou seest, when thou doest wake,
    Doe it for thy true loue take:
    680Loue and langui} for his sake.
    Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,
    Pard,
    A Midsommer nightes dreame.
    Pard, or Boare with bristled haire,
    In thy eye that shall appeare,
    When thou wak'st, it is thy deare:
    685Wake, when some vile thing is neere.
    Enter Lysander: and Hermia.
    Lys. Faire loue, you fainte, with wandring in the wood:
    And to speake troth I haue forgot our way.
    Weele rest vs Hermia, if you thinke it good,
    690And tarry for the comfor of the day.
    Her. Bet it so Lysander: finde you out a bedde:
    For I, vpon this banke, will rest my head.
    Lys. One turfe shall serue, as pillow, for vs both,
    One heart, one bedde, two bosomes, and one troth.
    695Her. Nay god Lysander: for my sake, my deere
    Ly further off, yet; doe not lye so neere.
    Lys. O take the sense, sweete, of my innocence.
    Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,
    I meane that my heart vnto yours it knit;
    700So that but one heart wee can make of it:
    Two bosomes interchained with an oath:
    So then two bosomes, and a single troth.
    Then, by your side, no bed-roome me deny:
    For lying so, Hermia, I doe not lye.
    705Her. Lysander riddles very prettily.
    Now much beshrewe my manners, and my pride,
    If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lyed.
    But gentle friend, for loue and curtesie,
    Ly further off, in humane modesty:
    710Such separation, as may well be said
    Becomes a vertuous batcheler, and a maide,
    So farre be distant, and good night sweete friend:
    Thy loue nere alter till thy sweete life end.
    Lys. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I,
    715And then end life, when I end loyalty.
    Heere is my bed: sleepe giue thee all his rest.
    VVith
    A Midsommer nightes dreame.
    Her. With halfe that wish, the wishers eyes be prest.
    Enter Pucke.
    Puck. Through the forrest haue I gone:
    720But Athenian found I none,
    On whose eyes I might approue
    This flowers force in stirring loue.
    Night and silence. Who is heere?
    Weedes of Athens he doth weare:
    725This is hee (my master saide)
    Despised the Athenian maide:
    And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
    On the danke and dirty ground.
    Pretty sowle, she durst not lye,
    730Neere this lack-loue, this kil-curtesie
    Churle, vpon thy eyes I throwe
    All the power this charme doth owe:
    When thou wak'st, let loue forbidde
    Sleepe, his seat, on thy eye lidde.
    735So awake, when I am gon:
    For I must now to Oberon. Exit.
    Enter Demetrius and Helena running.
    Hel. Stay; though thou kill mee, sweete Demetrius.
    De. I charge thee hence, and doe not haunt mee thus.
    740Hele. O, wilt thou darkling leaue me? doe not so.
    De. Stay, on thy perill: I alone will goe.
    Hel. O, I am out of breath, in this fond chase,
    The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
    745Happie is Hermia, wheresoere she lies:
    For she hath blessed, and attractiue eyes.
    How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.
    If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.
    No, no: I am as vgly as a Beare:
    750For beastes that meete mee, runne away, for feare.
    Therefore, no maruaile, though Demetrius
    Doe, as a monster, fly my presence, thus.
    What
    A Midsommer nightes dreame.
    What wicked and dissembling glasse, of mine,
    Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyen!
    755But, who is here? Lysander, on the ground?
    Dead, or a sleepe? I see no blood, no wound.
    Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake.
    Lys. And runne through fire, I will for thy sweete sake.
    Transparent Helena, nature shewes arte,
    760That through thy bosome, makes me see thy heart.
    Where is Demetrius? Oh how fit a word
    Is that vile name, to perish on my sworde!
    Hel. Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.
    What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?
    765Yet Hermia still loues you: then be content.
    Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I doe repent
    The tedious minutes, I with her haue spent.
    Not Hermia, but Helena I loue.
    VVho will not change a Rauen for a doue?
    770The will of man is by his reason swai'd:
    And reason saies you are the worthier maide.
    Things growing are not ripe, vntill their season:
    So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.
    And touching now, the point of humane skill,
    775Reason becomes the Marshall to my will,
    And leads mee to your eyes; where I orelooke
    Loues stories, written in loues richest booke.
    Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
    When, at your hands, did I deserue this scorne?
    780Ist not enough, ist not enough, young man,
    That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
    Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,
    But you must flout my insufficiency?
    Good troth you doe mee wrong (good sooth you doe)
    785In such disdainfull manner, mee to wooe.
    But, fare you well: perforce, I must confesse,
    I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.
    O,
    A Midsommer nightes dreame.
    O, that a Ladie, of one man refus'd,
    Should, of another, therefore be abus'd! Exit.
    790Lys. She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleepe thou there,
    And neuer maist thou come Lysander neere.
    For, as a surfet of the sweetest things
    The deepest loathing, to the stomacke bringes:
    Or, as the heresies, that men doe leaue,
    795Are hated most of those they did deceiue:
    So thou, my surfet, and my heresie,
    Of all bee hated; but the most, of mee:
    And all my powers addresse your loue and might,
    To honour Helen, and to be her knight. Exit.
    800Her. Helpe mee Lysander, helpe mee: do thy best
    To pluck this crawling serpent, from my brest.
    Ay mee, for pittie. What a dreame was here?
    Lysander looke, how I doe quake with feare.
    Me thoughr, a serpent eate my heart away,
    805And you sate smiling at his cruell pray.
    Lysander what, remou'd? Lysander, Lord,
    What, out of hearing, gon? No sound, no word?
    Alacke where are you? Speake, and if you heare:
    Speake, of all loues. I swoune almost with feare.
    810No, then I well perceiue, you are not ny:
    Either death, or you, Ile finde immediately. Exit.
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