Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charmed eye release

From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste;
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full faft,
And yonder thines Aurora's harbinger;

At whofe approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to church-yards: damned fpirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;

For fear left day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exíle from light,
And must for aye confort with black-brow'd night.
Obe. But we are fpirits of another fort:

I with the morning's love have oft made fport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his falt-green streams.
But, notwithstanding, hafte; make no delay:
We may effect this business yet ere day.

Puck. Up and down, up and down;
I will lead them up and down:
I am fear'd in field and town;
Goblin, lead them up and down.
Here comes one.

Enter LYSANDER.

[Exit OBE.

Lyf. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now. Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou? Lyf. I will be with thee straight.

Puck.

Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?

Speak. In fome bufh? Where doft thou hide thy head? Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,

And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child; I'll whip thee with a rod: he is defil'd,

That draws a fword on thee.

Dem.

Yea; art thou there?

Puck. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here.

[Exeunt.

Re-enter LYSANDER.

Lyf. He goes before me, and still dares me on;
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter-heel'd, than I:
I follow'd faft, but fafter he did fly;

That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
And here will reft me. Come, thou gentle day!

For if but once thou show me thy grey light,
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite.

Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS.

[Lies down.

Puck. Ho, ho! ho! ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'ft; for well I wot,

Thou

Thou runn'ft before me, shifting every place;
And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face.

Where art thou?

Puck.

Come hither; 1 ain here.

Dem. Nay, then thou mock'st me.

this dear,

If ever I thy face by day-light fee:

Thou shalt buy

Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.—
By day's approach look to be visited. [Lies down and fleeps.

Enter HELENA.

Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours: fhine, comforts, from the east;

That I may back to Athens, by day-light,

From these that my poor company deteft:
:--

And, fleep, that fometime shuts up forrow's eye,
Steal me a while from mine own company.

Puck. Yet but three? Come one more;
Two of both kinds makes up four.
Here she comes, curst, and fad :—

Cupid is a knavish lad,

Thus to make poor females mad.

Enter HERMIA.

[Sleeps.

Her. Never fo weary, never fo in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;

I can no further crawl, no further go;

My legs can keep no pace with my defires.

Here will I reft me, till the break of day.
Heavens fhield Lyfander, if they mean a fray!

E

[Lies down.

Puck.

Puck. On the ground

Sleep found:
I'll apply

To your eye,
Gentle lover, remedy.

[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER's eye.

When thou wak'st,

Thou tak'ft

True delight

In the fight

Of thy former lady's eye :

And the country proverb known,

That every man fhould take his own,
In your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill;

Nought fhall go ill;

The man fhall have his mare again, and all shall be well.

[Exit PUCK.-DEM. HEL. &c. fleep.

ACT

ACT IV. SCENE I.

The fame.

Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM, Fairies attending; OBERON behind, unfeen.

Tita. Come, fit thee down upon this flowery bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick musk-roses in thy fleek smooth head,

And kifs thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot. Where's Peas-bloffom?

Peas. Ready.

Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-bloffom.-Where's monfeur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

Bot. Monfieur Cobweb; good monfieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hip'd humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monfieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monfieur; and, good monfieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you over-flown with a honey-bag, fignior.-Where's monfieur Muftard-feed? Muft. Ready.

Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monfieur.

Muft. What's your will?

Bot. Nothing, good monfieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to fcratch. I muft to the barber's, monfieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face: and I am fuch a tender afs, if my hair do but tickle me, I must cratch.