| ACT II SCENE II | Another part of the wood. | |
| | Enter TITANIA, with her train | |
| TITANIA | Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; | |
| | Then, for the third part of a minute, hence; | |
| | Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, | |
| | Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings, | 5 |
| | To make my small elves coats, and some keep back | |
| | The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders | |
| | At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep; | |
| | Then to your offices and let me rest. | |
| | The Fairies sing | |
| | You spotted snakes with double tongue, | 10 |
| | Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; | |
| | Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong, | |
| | Come not near our fairy queen. | |
| | Philomel, with melody | |
| | Sing in our sweet lullaby; | 15 |
| | Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby: | |
| | Never harm, | |
| | Nor spell nor charm, | |
| | Come our lovely lady nigh; | |
| | So, good night, with lullaby. | 20 |
| | Weaving spiders, come not here; | |
| | Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence! | |
| | Beetles black, approach not near; | |
| | Worm nor snail, do no offence. | |
| | Philomel, with melody, &c. | 25 |
| Fairy | Hence, away! now all is well: | |
| | One aloof stand sentinel. | |
| | Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps | |
| | Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids | |
| OBERON | What thou seest when thou dost wake, | |
| | Do it for thy true-love take, | |
| | Love and languish for his sake: | 30 |
| | Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, | |
| | Pard, or boar with bristled hair, | |
| | In thy eye that shall appear | |
| | When thou wakest, it is thy dear: | |
| | Wake when some vile thing is near. | 35 |
| | Exit | |
| | Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA | |
| LYSANDER | Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; | |
| | And to speak troth, I have forgot our way: | |
| | We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, | |
| | And tarry for the comfort of the day. | |
| HERMIA | Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed; | 40 |
| | For I upon this bank will rest my head. | |
| LYSANDER | One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; | |
| | One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth. | |
| HERMIA | Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, | |
| | Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. | 45 |
| LYSANDER | O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! | |
| | Love takes the meaning in love's conference. | |
| | I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit | |
| | So that but one heart we can make of it; | |
| | Two bosoms interchained with an oath; | 50 |
| | So then two bosoms and a single troth. | |
| | Then by your side no bed-room me deny; | |
| | For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie. | |
| HERMIA | Lysander riddles very prettily: | |
| | Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, | 55 |
| | If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. | |
| | But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy | |
| | Lie further off; in human modesty, | |
| | Such separation as may well be said | |
| | Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, | 60 |
| | So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend: | |
| | Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end! | |
| LYSANDER | Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I; | |
| | And then end life when I end loyalty! | |
| | Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest! | 65 |
| HERMIA | With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! | |
| | They sleep | |
| | Enter PUCK | |
| PUCK | Through the forest have I gone. | |
| | But Athenian found I none, | |
| | On whose eyes I might approve | |
| | This flower's force in stirring love. | 70 |
| | Night and silence.--Who is here? | |
| | Weeds of Athens he doth wear: | |
| | This is he, my master said, | |
| | Despised the Athenian maid; | |
| | And here the maiden, sleeping sound, | 75 |
| | On the dank and dirty ground. | |
| | Pretty soul! she durst not lie | |
| | Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. | |
| | Churl, upon thy eyes I throw | |
| | All the power this charm doth owe. | 80 |
| | When thou wakest, let love forbid | |
| | Sleep his seat on thy eyelid: | |
| | So awake when I am gone; | |
| | For I must now to Oberon. | |
| | Exit | |
| | Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running | |
| HELENA | Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. | 85 |
| DEMETRIUS | I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. | |
| HELENA | O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. | |
| DEMETRIUS | Stay, on thy peril: I alone will go. | |
| | Exit | |
| HELENA | O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! | |
| | The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. | 90 |
| | Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies; | |
| | For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. | |
| | How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears: | |
| | If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. | |
| | No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; | 95 |
| | For beasts that meet me run away for fear: | |
| | Therefore no marvel though Demetrius | |
| | Do, as a monster fly my presence thus. | |
| | What wicked and dissembling glass of mine | |
| | Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne? | 100 |
| | But who is here? Lysander! on the ground! | |
| | Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound. | |
| | Lysander if you live, good sir, awake. | |
| LYSANDER | Awaking | |
| | Transparent Helena! Nature shows art, | |
| | That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. | 105 |
| | Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word | |
| | Is that vile name to perish on my sword! | |
| HELENA | Do not say so, Lysander; say not so | |
| | What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though? | |
| | Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. | 110 |
| LYSANDER | Content with Hermia! No; I do repent | |
| | The tedious minutes I with her have spent. | |
| | Not Hermia but Helena I love: | |
| | Who will not change a raven for a dove? | |
| | The will of man is by his reason sway'd; | 115 |
| | And reason says you are the worthier maid. | |
| | Things growing are not ripe until their season | |
| | So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason; | |
| | And touching now the point of human skill, | |
| | Reason becomes the marshal to my will | 120 |
| | And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook | |
| | Love's stories written in love's richest book. | |
| HELENA | Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? | |
| | When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? | |
| | Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, | 125 |
| | That I did never, no, nor never can, | |
| | Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, | |
| | But you must flout my insufficiency? | |
| | Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, | |
| | In such disdainful manner me to woo. | 130 |
| | But fare you well: perforce I must confess | |
| | I thought you lord of more true gentleness. | |
| | O, that a lady, of one man refused. | |
| | Should of another therefore be abused! | |
| | Exit | |
| LYSANDER | She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there: | 135 |
| | And never mayst thou come Lysander near! | |
| | For as a surfeit of the sweetest things | |
| | The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, | |
| | Or as tie heresies that men do leave | |
| | Are hated most of those they did deceive, | 140 |
| | So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, | |
| | Of all be hated, but the most of me! | |
| | And, all my powers, address your love and might | |
| | To honour Helen and to be her knight! | |
| | Exit | |
| HERMIA | Awaking | |
| | To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! | 145 |
| | Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here! | |
| | Lysander, look how I do quake with fear: | |
| | Methought a serpent eat my heart away, | |
| | And you sat smiling at his cruel pray. | |
| | Lysander! what, removed? Lysander! lord! | 150 |
| | What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word? | |
| | Alack, where are you speak, an if you hear; | |
| | Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. | |
| | No? then I well perceive you all not nigh | |
| | Either death or you I'll find immediately. | 155 |
| | Exit | |