651627Quee. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song:

652628Then, for the third part of a minute hence,

653629Some to kill cankers in the musk rose buds,

654630Some warre with Reremise, for their lethren wings,

655631To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe backe

656632The clamorous Owle, that nightly hootes and wonders

657633At our queint spirits: Sing me now a sleepe:

658634Then to your offices, and let mee rest.

6706461. Fai. Weauing Spiders come not heere:

671647 Hence you long legd Spinners, hence:

672648Beetles blacke approach not neere:

673649Worme nor snaile doe no offence.

674650Philomele with melody, &c.

6756512. Fai. Hence away: now all is well:

676652 One aloofe, stand Centinell.

678654Ob. What thou seest, when thou doest wake,

679655Doe it for thy true loue take:

680656Loue and langui} for his sake.

681657Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,

682658Pard, or Boare with bristled haire,

683659In thy eye that shall appeare,

684660When thou wak'st, it is thy deare:

685661Wake, when some vile thing is neere.

687663Lys. Faire loue, you fainte, with wandring in the wood:

688664And to speake troth I haue forgot our way.

689665Weele rest vs Hermia, if you thinke it good,

690666And tarry for the comfor of the day.

691667Her. Bet it so Lysander: finde you out a bedde:

692668For I, vpon this banke, will rest my head.

693669Lys. One turfe shall serue, as pillow, for vs both,

694670One heart, one bedde, two bosomes, and one troth.

695671Her. Nay god Lysander: for my sake, my deere

696672Ly further off, yet; doe not lye so neere.

697673Lys. O take the sense, sweete, of my innocence.

698674Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,

699675I meane that my heart vnto yours it knit;

700676So that but one heart wee can make of it:

701677Two bosomes interchained with an oath:

702678So then two bosomes, and a single troth.

703679Then, by your side, no bed-roome me deny:

704680For lying so, Hermia, I doe not lye.

705681Her. Lysander riddles very prettily.

706682Now much beshrewe my manners, and my pride,

707683If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lyed.

708684But gentle friend, for loue and curtesie,

709685Ly further off, in humane modesty:

710686Such separation, as may well be said

711687Becomes a vertuous batcheler, and a maide,

712688So farre be distant, and good night sweete friend:

713689Thy loue nere alter till thy sweete life end.

714690Lys. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I,

715691And then end life, when I end loyalty.

716692Heere is my bed: sleepe giue thee all his rest.

717693Her. With halfe that wish, the wishers eyes be prest.

719695Puck. Through the forrest haue I gone:

720696But Athenian found I none,

721697On whose eyes I might approue

722698This flowers force in stirring loue.

723699Night and silence. Who is heere?

724700Weedes of Athens he doth weare:

725701This is hee (my master saide)

726702Despised the Athenian maide:

727703And here the maiden, sleeping sound,

728704On the danke and dirty ground.

729705Pretty sowle, she durst not lye,

730706Neere this lack-loue, this kil-curtesie

731707Churle, vpon thy eyes I throwe

732708All the power this charme doth owe:

733709When thou wak'st, let loue forbidde

734710Sleepe, his seat, on thy eye lidde.

735711So awake, when I am gon:

736712For I must now to Oberon. Exit.

738714Hel. Stay; though thou kill mee, sweete Demetrius.

739715De. I charge thee hence, and doe not haunt mee thus.

740716Hele. O, wilt thou darkling leaue me? doe not so.

741717De. Stay, on thy perill: I alone will goe.

743718Hel. O, I am out of breath, in this fond chase,

744719The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

745720Happie is Hermia, wheresoere she lies:

746721For she hath blessed, and attractiue eyes.

747722How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.

748723If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.

749724No, no: I am as vgly as a Beare:

750725For beastes that meete mee, runne away, for feare.

751726Therefore, no maruaile, though Demetrius

752727Doe, as a monster, fly my presence, thus.

753728What wicked and dissembling glasse, of mine,

754729Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyen!

755730But, who is here? Lysander, on the ground?

756731Dead, or a sleepe? I see no blood, no wound.

757732Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake.

758733Lys. And runne through fire, I will for thy sweete sake.

759734Transparent Helena, nature shewes arte,

760735That through thy bosome, makes me see thy heart.

761736Where is Demetrius? Oh how fit a word

762737Is that vile name, to perish on my sworde!

763738Hel. Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.

764739What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?

765740Yet Hermia still loues you: then be content.

766741Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I doe repent

767742The tedious minutes, I with her haue spent.

768743Not Hermia, but Helena I loue.

769744VVho will not change a Rauen for a doue?

770745The will of man is by his reason swai'd:

771746And reason saies you are the worthier maide.

772747Things growing are not ripe, vntill their season:

773748So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.

774749And touching now, the point of humane skill,

775750Reason becomes the Marshall to my will,

776751And leads mee to your eyes; where I orelooke

777752Loues stories, written in loues richest booke.

778753Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?

779754When, at your hands, did I deserue this scorne?

780755Ist not enough, ist not enough, young man,

781756That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,

782757Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,

783758But you must flout my insufficiency?

784759Good troth you doe mee wrong (good sooth you doe)

785760In such disdainfull manner, mee to wooe.

786761But, fare you well: perforce, I must confesse,

787762I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.

788763O, that a Ladie, of one man refus'd,

789764Should, of another, therefore be abus'd! Exit.

790765Lys. She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleepe thou there,

791766And neuer maist thou come Lysander neere.

792767For, as a surfet of the sweetest things

793768The deepest loathing, to the stomacke bringes:

794769Or, as the heresies, that men doe leaue,

795770Are hated most of those they did deceiue:

796771So thou, my surfet, and my heresie,

797772Of all bee hated; but the most, of mee:

798773And all my powers addresse your loue and might,

799774To honour Helen, and to be her knight. Exit.

800775Her. Helpe mee Lysander, helpe mee: do thy best

801776To pluck this crawling serpent, from my brest.

802777Ay mee, for pittie. What a dreame was here?

803778Lysander looke, how I doe quake with feare.

804779Me thoughr, a serpent eate my heart away,

805780And you sate smiling at his cruell pray.

806781Lysander what, remou'd? Lysander, Lord,

807782What, out of hearing, gon? No sound, no word?

808783Alacke where are you? Speake, and if you heare:

809784Speake, of all loues. I swoune almost with feare.

810785No, then I well perceiue, you are not ny:

811786Either death, or you, Ile finde immediately. Exit.