Published June 11800. by Vernor & Hood Poultry.
1 Fai. Hence, away; now all is well :
One, aloof, ftand centinel.
[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA fleeps.
Obe. What thou feeft, when thou dost wake,
[Squeezes the flower on Titania's eye-lids.
Do it for thy true love take;
Love, and languish for his fake:
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
When thou wak'ft, it is thy dear;
Wake, when fome vile thing is near.
Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA.
Lyf. 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.
Her. Be it fo, Lyfander: find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.
Lyf. One turf fhall ferve as pillow for us both;
One heart, one bed, two bofoms, and one troth.
Her. Nay, good Lyfander; for my fake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.
Lyf. O, take the fenfe, fweet, 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 bofoms interchained with an oath;
So then, two bofoms, and a fingle troth.
Then, by your fide no bed-room me deny;
· For, lying fo, Hermia, I do not lie.
Her. Lyfander riddles very prettily :-
Now much befhrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to fay, Lyfander lied.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
Lie further off; in human modesty
Such feparation, as, may well be said,
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid:
So far be diftant; and good night, fweet friend :
Thy love ne'er alter, till thy fweet life end!
Lyf. 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 reft!
Her. With half that with the wifher's eyes be prefs'd!
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.
Night and filence! who is here ?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my mafter faid,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, fleeping found,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty foul! fhe durst not lie
Near this lack-love, kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe:
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