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But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice, The other must be held the worthier.
Her. I would, my father look'd but with my
The. Rather your eyes must with his judgment Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. I know not by what power I am made bold; Nor how it may concern my modesty, In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: But I beseech your grace, that I may know The worst that may befal me in this case, If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
The. Either to die the death, or to abjure For ever the society of men. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice, You can endure the livery of a nun; For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood, To undergo such maiden pilgrimage: But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that, which withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.
Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, Ere I will yield my virgin patent up Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty. [moon, The. Take time to pause: and, by the next new (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, For everlasting bond of fellowship,) Upon that day either prepare to die, For disobedience to your father's will; Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would: Or on Diana's altar to protest, For aye, austerity and single life.
Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia ;-and, Lysander, Thy crazed title to my certain right. [yield
Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
Ege. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love: And what is mine my love shall render him; And she is mine; and all my right of her I do estate unto Demetrius.
Lys. am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, As well possess'd; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd, If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
The. I must confess, that I have heard so much,
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
[exeunt Thes. Hip. Ege. Dem. and train. Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so How chance the roses there do fade so fast? [pale? Her. Belike, for want of rain; which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.
Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood ;
Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! Lys. Or else misgraffed, in respect of years;Her. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young! Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends ;
Her. O hell! to choose love by another's eye! Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it; Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say,-Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.
Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edíct in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross;
As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child: From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; And she respects me as her only son, There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us: if thou lov'st me then. Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night; And in the wood, a league without the town, Where I did meet thee once with Helena, To do observance to a morn of May, There will I stay for thee.
Her. My good Lysander!
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,
Lys. Keep promise, love: look, hore comes
Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O, that my prayers could such affection move!
Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my
Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
Her. And in the wood, where often you and I
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
SCENE II. THE SAME. A ROOM IN A COTTAGE.
Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, ana
Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.
Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding-day at night.
Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors: and so grow to a point.
Quin. Mary, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.
Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry-Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll-Masters, spread yourselves.
Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the weaver.
Bot. Ready: name what part I am for, and
Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant ? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.
Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest-yet my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rurely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
The raging rocks,
lofty!-Now name the rest of the
Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flu. Here, Peter Quince.
Quin. You must take Thisby on you.
Flu. What is Thisby? a wandering knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.
Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play
Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice; -Thisne, Thisne, Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear! and lady dear!
Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisby.
Bot. Well, proceed.
Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor.
Quin. Why, what you will.
Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's father;-Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part: —and, I hope, here is a play fitted.
Bot. I will discharge it in either your strawcoloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crowncolour beard, your perfect yellow.
Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, Let him roar again, Let him roar again.
Quin. An you shall do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek: and that were enough to hang us all.
SCENE I. A WOOD NEAR ATHENS.
Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck at another.
All. That would hang us every mother's son. Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,, s
To dew her orbs upon the green; int pient The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.
Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely, gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
Bot. Well, I will undertake it.
Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced.But, masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse: for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not.
Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains • be perfect; adieu.
Quin. At the duke's oak we meet.
But they do square; that all their elves, for fear,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite,
Puck. Thou speak'st aright,
In their gold coats spots you see ;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
In those freckles live their savours:
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
The fairy land buys not the child of me.
Enter Oberon at one door, with his train, and His mother was a vot'ress of my order:
Obe. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.
Obe. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania. Tita. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence; I have forsworn his bed and company.
Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
Tita. Set your heart at rest,
Till I torment thee for this injury.—
My gentle Puck, come hither: theu remember'st
Obe. That very time I saw, (but thou could'st
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
Before, milk-white; now purple with love's
Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth
Obe. Having once this juice,
And cre I take this charm from off her sight,
Enter Demetrius, Helena following him. Dem. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia? The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me. Thou told'st me, they were stol'n into this wood, And here am I, and wood within this wood, Because I cannot meet with Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth Tell you-I do not, nor I cannot, love you?
Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love, (And yet a place of high respect with me,) Than to be used as you use your dog?
Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
For I am sick, when I do look on thee.
Hel. And I am sick, when I look not on you. Dem. You do impeach your modesty too much, To leave the city, and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night, And the ill counsel of a desert place, With the rich worth of your virginity.
Hel. Your virtue is my privilege for that. It is not night, when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night: Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company; For you, in my respect, are all the world: Ta how ca; it be said, am alone, When all the world is here to look on me? Dem. I run from thee, and hide me in the brakes,
And leave thee to e mercy of wild beasts.
Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd; Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed! When cowardice pursues, and valour flies.
Dem. I will not stay thy questions: let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
Obe. I pray thee, give it me.
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Enter Titania, with her train.
Tita. 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 rear-mice for their leathern wings To make my small elves coats; and some, keep back [ders The clamorous owl, that nightly hocts, and wonAt our quaint spirits: Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices, and let me rest.
Obe. What thou seest, when thou dost wake, [squeezes the flowers on Titania's eye-lids. Do it for thy true love take; Love, and languish for his sake:
Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius ! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.
Lex. Dem. & Hel.
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,