Another Part of the Wood. | |
| |
Enter OBERON. | |
| Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak’d; | |
| Then, what it was that next came in her eye, | 4 |
| Which she must dote on in extremity. | |
| Here comes my messenger. | |
| |
Enter PUCK. | |
| How now, mad spirit! | 8 |
| What night-rule now about this haunted grove? | |
| Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. | |
| Near to her close and consecrated bower, | |
| While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, | 12 |
| A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, | |
| That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, | |
| Were met together to rehearse a play | |
| Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial day. | 16 |
| The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, | |
| Who Pyramus presented in their sport | |
| Forsook his scene, and enter’d in a brake, | |
| When I did him at this advantage take; | 20 |
| An ass’s nowl I fixed on his head: | |
| Anon his Thisbe must be answered, | |
| And forth my mimick comes. When they him spy, | |
| As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, | 24 |
| Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, | |
| Rising and cawing at the gun’s report, | |
| Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky; | |
| So, at his sight, away his fellows fly, | 28 |
| And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls; | |
| He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. | |
| Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong, | |
| Made senseless things begin to do them wrong; | 32 |
| For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch; | |
| Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch. | |
| I led them on in this distracted fear, | |
| And left sweet Pyramus translated there; | 36 |
| When in that moment, so it came to pass, | |
| Titania wak’d and straightway lov’d an ass. | |
| Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. | |
| But hast thou yet latch’d the Athenian’s eyes | 40 |
| With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do? | |
| Puck. I took him sleeping,—that is finish’d too,— | |
| And the Athenian woman by his side; | |
| That, when he wak’d, of force she must be ey’d. | 44 |
| |
Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA. | |
| Obe. Stand close: this is the same Athenian. | |
| Puck. This is the woman; but not this the man. | |
| Dem. O! why rebuke you him that loves you so? | 48 |
| Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. | |
| Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, | |
| For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. | |
| If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, | 52 |
| Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in knee deep, | |
| And kill me too. | |
| The sun was not so true unto the day | |
| As he to me. Would he have stol’n away | 56 |
| From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon | |
| This whole earth may be bor’d, and that the moon | |
| May through the centre creep, and so displease | |
| Her brother’s noontide with the Antipodes. | 60 |
| It cannot be but thou hast murder’d him; | |
| So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. | |
| Dem. So should the murder’d look, and so should I, | |
| Piere’d through the heart with your stern cruelty; | 64 |
| Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, | |
| As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. | |
| Her. What’s this to my Lysander? where is he? | |
| Ah! good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? | 68 |
| Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. | |
| Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv’st me past the bounds | |
| Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him then? | |
| Henceforth be never number’d among men! | 72 |
| O! once tell true, tell true, e’en for my sake; | |
| Durst thou have look’d upon him being awake, | |
| And hast thou kill’d him sleeping? O brave touch! | |
| Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? | 76 |
| An adder did it; for with doubler tongue | |
| Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung. | |
| Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris’d mood: | |
| I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood, | 80 |
| Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. | |
| Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. | |
| Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore? | |
| Her. A privilege never to see me more. | 84 |
| And from thy hated presence part I so; | |
| See me no more, whe’r he be dead or no. [Exit. | |
| Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein: | |
| Here therefore for a while I will remain. | 88 |
| So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow | |
| For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; | |
| Which now in some slight measure it will pay, | |
| If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down and sleeps. | 92 |
| Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite, | |
| And laid the love-juice on some true-love’s sight: | |
| Of thy misprision must perforce ensue | |
| Some true-love turn’d, and not a false turn’d true. | 96 |
| Puck. Then fate o’er-rules, that, one man holding troth, | |
| A million fail, confounding oath on oath. | |
| Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, | |
| And Helena of Athens look thou find: | 100 |
| All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer | |
| With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear. | |
| By some illusion see thou bring her here: | |
| I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear. | 104 |
| Puck. I go, I go; look how I go; | |
| Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. [Exit. | |
| Obe. Flower of this purple dye, | |
| Hit with Cupid’s archery, | 108 |
| Sink in apple of his eye. | |
| When his love he doth espy, | |
| Let her shine as gloriously | |
| As the Venus of the sky. | 112 |
| When thou wak’st, if she be by, | |
| Beg of her for remedy. | |
| |
Re-enter PUCK. | |
| Puck. Captain of our fairy band, | 116 |
| Helena is here at hand, | |
| And the youth, mistook by me, | |
| Pleading for a lover’s fee. | |
| Shall we their fond pageant see? | 120 |
| Lord, what fools these mortals be! | |
| Obe. Stand aside: the noise they make | |
| Will cause Demetrius to awake. | |
| Puck. Then will two at once woo one; | 124 |
| That must needs be sport alone; | |
| And those things do best please me | |
| That befall preposterously. | |
| |
Enter LYSANDER and HELENA. | 128 |
| Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? | |
| Scorn and derision never come in tears: | |
| Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, | |
| In their nativity all truth appears. | 132 |
| How can these things in me seem scorn to you, | |
| Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true? | |
| Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more. | |
| When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray! | 136 |
| These vows are Hermia’s: will you give her o’er? | |
| Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: | |
| Your vows, to her and me, put in two scales, | |
| Will even weigh, and both as light as tales. | 140 |
| Lys. I had no judgment when to her I swore. | |
| Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er. | |
| Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. | |
| Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen! goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! | 144 |
| To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? | |
| Crystal is muddy. O! how ripe in show | |
| Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow; | |
| This pure congealed white, high Taurus’ snow, | 148 |
| Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow | |
| When thou hold’st up thy hand. O! let me kiss | |
| That princess of pure white, this seal of bliss. | |
| Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent | 152 |
| To set against me for your merriment: | |
| If you were civil and knew courtesy, | |
| You would not do me thus much injury. | |
| Can you not hate me, as I know you do, | 156 |
| But you must join in souls to mock me too? | |
| If you were men, as men you are in show, | |
| You would not use a gentle lady so; | |
| To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, | 160 |
| When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. | |
| You both are rivals, and love Hermia, | |
| And now both rivals, to mock Helena: | |
| A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, | 164 |
| To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes | |
| With your derision! none of noble sort | |
| Would so offend a virgin, and extort | |
| A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport. | 168 |
| Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; | |
| For you love Hermia; this you know I know: | |
| And here, with all good will, with all my heart, | |
| In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part; | 172 |
| And yours of Helena to me bequeath, | |
| Whom I do love, and will do to my death. | |
| Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. | |
| Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: | 176 |
| If e’er I lov’d her, all that love is gone. | |
| My heart with her but as guest-wise sojourn’d, | |
| And now to Helen it is home return’d, | |
| There to remain. | 180 |
| Lys. Helen, it is not so. | |
| Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, | |
| Lest to thy peril thou aby it dear. | |
| Look! where thy love comes: yonder is thy dear. | 184 |
| |
Enter HERMIA. | |
| Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, | |
| The ear more quick of apprehension makes; | |
| Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, | 188 |
| It pays the hearing double recompense. | |
| Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found; | |
| Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. | |
| But why unkindly didst thou leave me so? | 192 |
| Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go? | |
| Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? | |
| Lys. Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide, | |
| Fair Helena, who more engilds the night | 196 |
| Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. | |
| Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know, | |
| The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? | |
| Her. You speak not as you think: it cannot be. | 200 |
| Hel. Lo! she is one of this confederacy. | |
| Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three | |
| To fashion this false sport in spite of me. | |
| Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid! | 204 |
| Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d | |
| To bait me with this foul derision? | |
| Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d, | |
| The sister-vows, the hours that we have spent, | 208 |
| When we have chid the hasty-footed time | |
| For parting us, O! is it all forgot? | |
| All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence? | |
| We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, | 212 |
| Have with our neelds created both one flower, | |
| Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, | |
| Both warbling of one song, both in one key, | |
| As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, | 216 |
| Had been incorporate. So we grew together, | |
| Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, | |
| But yet an union in partition; | |
| Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; | 220 |
| So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; | |
| Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, | |
| Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. | |
| And will you rent our ancient love asunder, | 224 |
| To join with men in scorning your poor friend? | |
| It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly: | |
| Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, | |
| Though I alone do feel the injury. | 228 |
| Her. I am amazed at your passionate words. | |
| I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me. | |
| Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, | |
| To follow me and praise my eyes and face, | 232 |
| And made your other love, Demetrius,— | |
| Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,— | |
| To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare, | |
| Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this | 236 |
| To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander | |
| Deny your love, so rich within his soul, | |
| And tender me, forsooth, affection, | |
| But by your setting on, by your consent? | 240 |
| What though I be not so in grace as you, | |
| So hung upon with love, so fortunate, | |
| But miserable most to love unlov’d? | |
| This you should pity rather than despise. | 244 |
| Her. I understand not what you mean by this. | |
| Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks, | |
| Make mouths upon me when I turn my back; | |
| Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up: | 248 |
| This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. | |
| If you have any pity, grace, or manners, | |
| You would not make me such an argument. | |
| But, fare ye well: ’tis partly mine own fault, | 252 |
| Which death or absence soon shall remedy. | |
| Lys. Stay, gentle Helena! hear my excuse: | |
| My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena! | |
| Hel. O excellent! | 256 |
| Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so. | |
| Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel. | |
| Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat: | |
| Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers. | 260 |
| Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do: | |
| I swear by that which I will lose for thee, | |
| To prove him false that says I love thee not. | |
| Dem. I say I love thee more than he can do. | 264 |
| Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. | |
| Dem. Quick, come! | |
| Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this? | |
| Lys. Away, you Ethiop! | 268 |
| Dem. No, no, he’ll … | |
| Seem to break loose; take on, as you would follow, | |
| But yet come not: you are a tame man, go! | |
| Lys. [To HERMIA.] Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose, | 272 |
| Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. | |
| Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this, | |
| Sweet love,— | |
| Lys. Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out! | 276 |
| Out, loathed medicine! hated poison, hence! | |
| Her. Do you not jest? | |
| Hel. Yes, sooth; and so do you. | |
| Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. | 280 |
| Dem. I would I had your bond, for I perceive | |
| A weak bond holds you: I’ll not trust your word. | |
| Lys. What! should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? | |
| Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so. | 284 |
| Her. What! can you do me greater harm than hate? | |
| Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? | |
| Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? | |
| I am as fair now as I was erewhile. | 288 |
| Since night you lov’d me; yet, since night you left me: | |
| Why, then you left me,—O, the gods forbid!— | |
| In earnest, shall I say? | |
| Lys. Ay, by my life; | 292 |
| And never did desire to see thee more. | |
| Therefore be out of hope, of question, doubt; | |
| Be certain, nothing truer: ’tis no jest, | |
| That I do hate thee and love Helena. | 296 |
| Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom! | |
| You thief of love! what! have you come by night | |
| And stol’n my love’s heart from him? | |
| Hel. Fine, i’ faith! | 300 |
| Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, | |
| No touch of bashfulness? What! will you tear | |
| Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? | |
| Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you! | 304 |
| Her. Puppet! why, so: ay, that way goes the game. | |
| Now I perceive that she hath made compare | |
| Between our statures: she hath urg’d her height; | |
| And with her personage, her tall personage, | 308 |
| Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail’d with him. | |
| And are you grown so high in his esteem, | |
| Because I am so dwarfish and so low? | |
| How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak; | 312 |
| How low am I? I am not yet so low | |
| But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. | |
| Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, | |
| Let her not hurt me: I was never curst; | 316 |
| I have no gift at all in shrewishness; | |
| I am a right maid for my cowardice: | |
| Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, | |
| Because she is something lower than myself, | 320 |
| That I can match her. | |
| Her. Lower! hark, again. | |
| Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. | |
| I evermore did love you, Hermia, | 324 |
| Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong’d you; | |
| Save that, in love unto Demetrius, | |
| I told him of your stealth unto this wood. | |
| He follow’d you; for love I follow’d him; | 328 |
| But he hath chid me hence, and threaten’d me | |
| To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too: | |
| And now, so you will let me quiet go, | |
| To Athens will I bear my folly back, | 332 |
| And follow you no further: let me go: | |
| You see how simple and how fond I am. | |
| Her. Why, get you gone. Who is’t that hinders you? | |
| Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind. | 336 |
| Her. What! with Lysander? | |
| Hel. With Demetrius. | |
| Lys. Be not afraid: she shall not harm thee, Helena. | |
| Dem. No, sir; she shall not, though you take her part. | 340 |
| Hel. O! when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd. | |
| She was a vixen when she went to school: | |
| And though she be but little, she is fierce. | |
| Her. ‘Little’ again! nothing but ‘low’ and ‘little!’ | 344 |
| Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? | |
| Let me come to her. | |
| Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf; | |
| You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; | 348 |
| You bead, you acorn! | |
| Dem. You are too officious | |
| In her behalf that scorns your services. | |
| Let her alone; speak not of Helena; | 352 |
| Take not her part, for, if thou dost intend | |
| Never so little show of love to her, | |
| Thou shalt aby it. | |
| Lys. Now she holds me not; | 356 |
| Now follow, if thou dar’st, to try whose right, | |
| Or thine or mine, is most in Helena. | |
| Dem. Follow! nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jole. [Exeunt LYSANDER and DEMETRIUS. | |
| Her. You, mistress, all this coil is ’long of you: | 360 |
| Nay, go not back. | |
| Hel. I will not trust you, I, | |
| Nor longer stay in your curst company. | |
| Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray, | 364 |
| My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit. | |
| Her. I am amaz’d, and know not what to say. [Exit. | |
| Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistak’st, | |
| Or else commit’st thy knaveries wilfully. | 368 |
| Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. | |
| Did not you tell me I should know the man | |
| By the Athenian garments he had on? | |
| And so far blameless proves my enterprise, | 372 |
| That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes; | |
| And so far am I glad it so did sort, | |
| As this their jangling I esteem a sport. | |
| Obe. Thou see’st these lovers seek a place to fight: | 376 |
| Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; | |
| The starry welkin cover thou anon | |
| With drooping fog as black as Acheron; | |
| And lead these testy rivals so astray, | 380 |
| As one come not within another’s way. | |
| Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, | |
| Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; | |
| And sometime rail thou like Demetrius; | 384 |
| And from each other look thou lead them thus, | |
| Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep | |
| With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: | |
| Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye; | 388 |
| Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, | |
| To take from thence all error with his might, | |
| And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. | |
| When they next wake, all this derision | 392 |
| Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision; | |
| And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, | |
| With league whose date till death shall never end. | |
| Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, | 396 |
| 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, | 400 |
| For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, | |
| And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger; | |
| At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, | |
| Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all, | 404 |
| That in cross-ways and floods have burial, | |
| Already to their wormy beds are gone; | |
| For fear lest day should look their shames upon, | |
| They wilfully themselves exile from light, | 408 |
| And must for aye consort with black-brow’d night. | |
| Obe. But we are spirits of another sort. | |
| I with the morning’s love have oft made sport; | |
| And, like a forester, the groves may tread, | 412 |
| Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red, | |
| Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, | |
| Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. | |
| But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay: | 416 |
| We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit OBERON. | |
| Puck. Up and down, up and down; | |
| I will lead them up and down: | |
| I am fear’d in field and town; | 420 |
| Goblin, lead them up and down. | |
| Here comes one. | |
| |
Re-enter LYSANDER. | |
| Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now. | 424 |
| Puck. Here, villain! drawn and ready. Where art thou? | |
| Lys. I will be with thee straight. | |
| Puck. Follow me, then, | |
| To plainer ground. [Exit LYSANDER as following the voice. | 428 |
| |
Re-enter DEMETRIUS. | |
| Dem. Lysander! speak again. | |
| Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? | |
| Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head? | 432 |
| 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 | 436 |
| That draws a sword on thee. | |
| Dem. Yea, art thou there? | |
| Puck. Follow my voice: we’ll try no manhood here. [Exeunt. | |
| |
Re-enter LYSANDER. | 440 |
| Lys. 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 fast, but faster he did fly; | 444 |
| That fallen am I in dark uneven way, | |
| And here will rest me. [Lies down.] Come, thou gentle day! | |
| For it but once thou show me thy grey light, | |
| I’ll find Demetrius and revenge this spite. [Sleeps. | 448 |
| |
Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS. | |
| Puck. Ho! ho! ho! Coward, why com’st thou not? | |
| Dem. Abide me, if thou dar’st; for well I wot | |
| Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place, | 452 |
| And dar’st not stand, nor look me in the face. | |
| Where art thou now? | |
| Puck. Come hither: I am here. | |
| Dem. Nay then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, | 456 |
| If ever I thy face by daylight see: | |
| 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 sleeps. | 460 |
| |
Re-enter HELENA. | |
| Hel. O weary night! O long and tedious night, | |
| Abate thy hours! shine, comforts, from the east! | |
| That I may back to Athens by daylight, | 464 |
| From these that my poor company detest: | |
| And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, | |
| Steal me a while from mine own company. [Lies down and sleeps. | |
| Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; | 468 |
| Two of both kinds make up four. | |
| Here she comes, curst and sad: | |
| Cupid is a knavish lad, | |
| Thus to make poor females mad. | 472 |
| |
Re-enter HERMIA. | |
| Her. Never so weary, never so in woe, | |
| Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers, | |
| I can no further crawl, no further go; | 476 |
| My legs can keep no pace with my desires. | |
| Here will I rest me till the break of day. | |
| Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lies down and sleeps. | |
| Puck. On the ground | 480 |
| Sleep sound: | |
| I’ll apply | |
| To your eye, | |
| Gentle lover, remedy [Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER’S eyes. | 484 |
| When thou wak’st, | |
| Thou tak’st | |
| True delight | |
| In the sight | 488 |
| Of thy former lady’s eye: | |
| And the country proverb known, | |
| That every man should take his own, | |
| In your waking shall be shown: | 492 |
| Jack shall have Jill; | |
| Nought shall go ill; | |
| The man shall have his mare again, | |
| And all shall be well. [Exit. | 496 |
