Now , fair Hippolyta , our nuptial hour 
Draws on apace : four happy days bring in 
Another moon ; but O ! methinks how slow 
This old moon wanes ; she lingers my desires ,
Like to a step dame , or a dowager 
Long withering out a young man's revenue .

Four days will quickly steep themselves in night ;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time ;
And then the moon , like to a silver bow 
New-bent in heaven , shall behold the night 
Of our solemnities .

Go , Philostrate ,
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments ;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth ;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals ;
The pale companion is not for our pomp .

Hippolyta , I woo'd thee with my sword ,
And won thy love doing thee injuries ;
But I will wed thee in another key ,
With pomp , with triumph , and with revelling .


Happy be Theseus , our renowned duke !

Thanks , good Egeus : what's the news with thee ?

Full of vexation come I , with complaint 
Against my child , my daughter Hermia .
Stand forth , Demetrius . My noble lord ,
This man hath my consent to marry her .
Stand forth , Lysander : and , my gracious duke ,
This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child :
Thou , thou , Lysander , thou hast given her rimes ,
And interchang'd love-tokens with my child ;
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung ,
With feigning voice , verses of feigning love ;
And stol'n the impression of her fantasy 
With bracelets of thy hair , rings , gawds , conceits ,
Knacks , trifles , nosegays , sweetmeats , messengers 
Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth ;
With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart ;
Turn'd her obedience , which is due to me ,
To stubborn harshness . And , my gracious duke ,
Be it so she will not here before your Grace 
Consent to marry with Demetrius ,
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens ,
As she is mine , I may dispose of her ;
Which shall be either to this gentleman ,
Or to her death , according to our law 
Immediately provided in that case .

What say you , Hermia ? be advis'd , fair maid .
To you , your father should be as a god ;
One that compos'd your beauties , yea , and one 
To whom you are but as a form in wax 
By him imprinted , and within his power 
To leave the figure or disfigure it .
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman .

So is Lysander .

In himself he is ;
But , in this kind , wanting your father's voice ,
The other must be held the worthier .

I would my father look'd but with my eyes .

Rather your eyes must with his judgment look .

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 befall me in this case ,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius .

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 ,
Whe'r , 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 .

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 .

Take time to pause ; and , by the next new moon ,
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 .

Relent , sweet Hermia ; and , Lysander , yield 
Thy crazed title to my certain right .

You have her father's love , Demetrius ;
Let me have Hermia's : do you marry him .

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 .

I 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 ,
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia .
Why should not I then prosecute my right ?
Demetrius , I'll avouch it to his head ,
Made love to Nedar's daughter , Helena ,
And won her soul ; and she , sweet lady , dotes ,
Devoutly dotes , dotes in idolatry ,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man .

I must confess that I have heard so much ,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof ;
But , being over-full of self-affairs ,
My mind did lose it . But , Demetrius , come ;
And come , Egeus ; you shall go with me ,
I have some private schooling for you both .
For you , fair Hermia , look you arm yourself 
To fit your fancies to your father's will ,
Or else the law of Athens yields you up ,
Which by no means we may extenuate ,
To death , or to a vow of single life .
Come , my Hippolyta : what cheer , my love ?
Demetrius and Egeus , go along :
I must employ you in some business 
Against our nuptial , and confer with you 
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves .

With duty and desire we follow you .


How now , my love ! Why is your cheek so pale ?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast ?

Belike for want of rain , which I could well 
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes .

Ay 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 ,

O cross ! too high to be enthrall'd to low .

Or else misgraffed in respect of years ,

O spite ! too old to be engag'd to young .

Or else it stood upon the choice of friends ,

O hell ! to choose love by another's eye .

Or , if there were a sympathy in choice ,
War , death , or sickness did lay siege to it ,
Making it momentany 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 .

If then true lovers have been ever cross'd ,
It stands as an edict 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 .

A good persuasion : therefore , hear me , Hermia .
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 .

My good Lysander !
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ,
By his best arrow with the golden head ,
By the simplicity of Venus' doves ,
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves ,
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen ,
When the false Troyan under sail was seen ,
By all the vows that ever men have broke ,
In number more than ever women spoke ,
In that same place thou hast appointed me ,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee .

Keep promise , love . Look , here comes Helena .


God speed fair Helena ! Whither away ?

Call you me fair ? that fair again unsay .
Demetrius loves your fair : O happy fair !
Your eyes are lode-stars ! and your tongue's sweet air 
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear ,
When wheat is green , when hawthorn buds appear .
Sickness is catching : O ! were favour so ,
Yours would I catch , fair Hermia , ere I go ;
My ear should catch your voice , my eye your eye ,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody .
Were the world mine , Demetrius being bated ,
The rest I'd give to be to you translated .
O ! teach me how you look , and with what art 
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart .

I frown upon him , yet he loves me still .

O ! that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill .

I give him curses , yet he gives me love .

O ! that my prayers could such affection move .

The more I hate , the more he follows me .

The more I love , the more he hateth me .

His folly , Helena , is no fault of mine .

None , but your beauty : would that fault were mine !

Take comfort : he no more shall see my face ;
Lysander and myself will fly this place .
Before the time I did Lysander see ,
Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me :
O ! then , what graces in my love do dwell ,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell .

Helen , to you our minds we will unfold .
To-morrow night , when Ph be doth behold 
Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass ,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass ,
A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal ,
Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal .

And in the wood , where often you and I 
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie ,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet ,
There my Lysander and myself shall meet ;
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes ,
To seek new friends and stranger companies .
Farewell , sweet playfellow : pray thou for us ;
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius !
Keep word , Lysander : we must starve our sight 
From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight .

I will , my Hermia .

Helena , adieu :
As you on him , Demetrius dote on you !


How happy some o'er other some can be !
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she ;
But what of that ? Demetrius thinks not so ;
He will not know what all but he do know ;
And as he errs , doting on Hermia's eyes ,
So I , admiring of his qualities .
Things base and vile , holding no quantity ,
Love can transpose to form and dignity .
Love looks not with the eyes , but with the mind ,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind .
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste ;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste :
And therefore is Love said to be a child ,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd .
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear ,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where ;
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne ,
He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine ;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt ,
So he dissolv'd , and showers of oaths did melt .
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight :
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night 
Pursue her ; and for this intelligence 
If I have thanks , it is a dear expense :
But herein mean I to enrich my pain ,
To have his sight thither and back again .


Is all our company here ?

You were best to call them generally , man by man , according to the scrip .

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 the duchess on his wedding-day at night .

First , good Peter Quince , say what the play treats on ; then read the names of the actors , and so grow to a point .

Marry , our play is , The most lamentable comedy , and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby .

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 .

Answer as I call you . Nick Bottom , the weaver .

Ready . Name what part I am for , and proceed .

You , Nick Bottom , are set down for Pyramus .

What is Pyramus ? a lover , or a tyrant ?

A lover , that kills himself most gallantly for love .

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 rarely , or a part to tear a cat in , to make all split .

The raging rocks 
And shivering shocks 
Shall break the locks 
Of prison gates :
And Phibbus' car 
Shall shine from far 
And make and mar 
The foolish Fates .

This was lofty ! Now name the rest of the players . This is Ercles' vein , a tyrant's vein ; a lover is more condoling .

Francis Flute , the bellows-mender .

Here , Peter Quince .

You must take Thisby on you .

What is Thisby ? a wandering knight ?

It is the lady that Pyramus must love .

Nay , faith , let not me play a woman ; I have a beard coming .

That's all one : you shall play it in a mask , and you may speak as small as you will .

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 !' 

No , no ; you must play Pyramus ; and Flute , you Thisby .

Well , proceed .

Robin Starveling , the tailor .

Here , Peter Quince .

Robin Starveling , you must play Thisby's mother . Tom Snout , the tinker .

Here , Peter Quince .

You , Pyramus's father ; myself , Thisby's father ; Snug , the joiner , you the lion's part : and , I hope , here is a play fitted .

Have you the lion's part written ? pray you , if it be , give it me , for I am slow of study .

You may do it extempore , for it is nothing but roaring .

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 .' 

An you should do it too terribly , you would fright the duchess and the ladies , that they would shriek ; and that were enough to hang us all .

That would hang us , every mother's son .

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 as gently as any sucking dove ; I will roar you as 'twere any nightingale .

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 .

Well , I will undertake it . What beard were I best to play it in ?

Why , what you will .

I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard , your orange-tawny beard , your purple-in-grain beard , or your French-crown colour beard , your perfect yellow .

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 dogged 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 .

We will meet ; and there we may rehearse more obscenely and courageously . Take pains ; be perfect ; adieu .

At the duke's oak we meet .

Enough ; hold , or cut bow-strings .

How now , spirit ! whither wander you ?


Over hill , over dale ,
Thorough bush , thorough brier ,
Over park , over pale ,
Thorough flood , thorough fire ,
I do wander every where ,
Swifter than the moone's sphere ;
And I serve the fairy queen ,
To dew her orbs upon the green :
The cowslips tall her pensioners be ;
In their gold coats spots you see ;
Those be rubies , fairy favours ,
In their freckles live their savours :

I must go seek some dew-drops here ,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear .
Farewell , thou lob of spirits : I'll be gone ;
Our queen and all her elves come here anon .

The king doth keep his revels here to-night .
Take heed the queen come not within his sight ;
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath ,
Because that she as her attendant hath 
A lovely boy , stol'n from an Indian king ;
She never had so sweet a changeling ;
And jealous Oberon would have the child 
Knight of his train , to trace the forests wild ;
But she , perforce , withholds the loved boy ,
Crowns him with flowers , and makes him all her joy .
And now they never meet in grove , or green ,
By fountain clear , or spangled starlight sheen ,
But they do square ; that all their elves , for fear ,
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there .

Either I mistake your shape and making quite ,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite 
Call'd Robin Goodfellow : are you not he 
That frights the maidens of the villagery ;
Skim milk , and sometimes labour in the quern ,
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn ;
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm ;
Mislead night-wanderers , laughing at their harm ?
Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck ,
You do their work , and they shall have good luck :
Are you not he ?

Fairy , thou speak'st aright ;
I am that merry wanderer of the night .
I jest to Oberon , and make him smile 
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile ,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal :
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl ,
In very likeness of a roasted crab ;
And , when she drinks , against her lips I bob 
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale .
The wisest aunt , telling the saddest tale ,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me ;
Then slip I from her bum , down topples she ,
And 'tailor' cries , and falls into a cough ;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and loff ;
And waxen in their mirth , and neeze , and swear 
A merrier hour was never wasted there .
But , room , fairy ! here comes Oberon .

And here my mistress . Would that he were gone !


Ill met by moonlight , proud Titania .

What ! jealous Oberon . Fairies , skip hence :
I have forsworn his bed and company .

Tarry , rash wanton ! am not I thy lord ?

Then , I must be thy lady ; but I know 
When thou hast stol'n away from fairy land ,
And in the shape of Corin sat all day ,
Playing on pipes of corn , and versing love 
To amorous Phillida . Why art thou here ,
Come from the furthest steppe of India ?
But that , forsooth , the bouncing Amazon ,
Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love ,
To Theseus must be wedded , and you come 
To give their bed joy and prosperity .

How canst thou thus for shame , Titania ,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta ,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus ?
Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night 
From Perigouna , whom he ravished ?
And make him with fair  gle break his faith ,
With Ariadne , and Antiopa ?

These are the forgeries of jealousy :
And never , since the middle summer's spring ,
Met we on hill , in dale , forest , or mead ,
By paved fountain , or by rushy brook ,
Or in the beached margent of the sea ,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind ,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport .
Therefore the winds , piping to us in vain ,
As in revenge , have suck'd up from the sea 
Contagious fogs ; which , falling in the land ,
Have every pelting river made so proud 
That they have overborne their continents :
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain ,
The ploughman lost his sweat , and the green corn 
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard :
The fold stands empty in the drowned field ,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock ;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud ,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green 
For lack of tread are undistinguishable :
The human mortals want their winter here :
No night is now with hymn or carol blest :
Therefore the moon , the governess of floods ,
Pale in her anger , washes all the air ,
That rheumatic diseases do abound :
And thorough this distemperature we see 
The seasons alter : hoary-headed frosts 
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose ,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown 
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds 
Is , as in mockery , set . The spring , the summer ,
The childing autumn , angry winter , change 
Their wonted liveries , and the mazed world ,
By their increase , now knows not which is which .
And this same progeny of evil comes 
From our debate , from our dissension :
We are their parents and original .

Do you amend it then ; it lies in you .
Why should Titania cross her Oberon ?
I do but beg a little changeling boy ,
To be my henchman .

Set your heart at rest ;
The fairy land buys not the child of me .
His mother was a votaress of my order :
And , in the spiced Indian air , by night ,
Full often hath she gossip'd by my side ,
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands ,
Marking the embarked traders on the flood ;
When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive 
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind ;
Which she , with pretty and with swimming gait 
Following ,her womb then rich with my young squire ,
Would imitate , and sail upon the land ,
To fetch me trifles , and return again ,
As from a voyage , rich with merchandise .
But she , being mortal , of that boy did die ;
And for her sake I do rear up her boy ,
And for her sake I will not part with him .

How long within this wood intend you stay ?

Perchance , till after Theseus' weddingday .
If you will patiently dance in our round ,
And see our moonlight revels , go with us ;
If not , shun me , and I will spare your haunts .

Give me that boy , and I will go with thee .

Not for thy fairy kingdom . Fairies , away !
We shall chide downright , if I longer stay .


Well , go thy way : thou shalt not from this grove 
Till I torment thee for this injury .
My gentle Puck , come hither . Thou remember'st 
Since once I sat upon a promontory ,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back 
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath ,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song ,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres 
To hear the sea-maid's music .

I remember .

That very time I saw , but thou couldst not ,
Flying between the cold moon and the earth ,
Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took 
At a fair vestal throned by the west ,
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow ,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts ;
But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft 
Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon ,
And the imperial votaress passed on ,
In maiden meditation , fancy-free .
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell :
It fell upon a little western flower ,
Before milk-white , now purple with love's wound ,
And maidens call it , Love-in-idleness .
Fetch me that flower ; the herb I show'd thee once :
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid 
Will make or man or woman madly dote 
Upon the next live creature that it sees .
Fetch me this herb ; and be thou here again 
Ere the leviathan can swim a league .

I'll put a girdle round about the earth 
In forty minutes .


Having once this juice 
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep ,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes :
The next thing then she waking looks upon ,
Be it on lion , bear , or wolf , or bull ,
On meddling monkey , or on busy ape ,
She shall pursue it with the soul of love :
And ere I take this charm off from her sight ,
As I can take it with another herb ,
I'll make her render up her page to me .
But who comes here ? I am invisible ,
And I will overhear their conference .


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 my Hermia .
Hence ! get thee gone , and follow me no more .

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 .

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 ?

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 ?

Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit ,
For I am sick when I do look on you .

And I am sick when I look not on you .

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 .

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 :
Then how can it be said I am alone ,
When all the world is here to look on me ?

I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes ,
And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts .

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 .

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 .

Ay , in the temple , in the town , the field ,
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 .


Fare thee well , nymph : ere he do leave this grove ,
Thou shalt fly him , and he shall seek thy love .

Hast thou the flower there ? Welcome , wanderer .

Ay , there it is .

I pray thee , give it me .
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows ,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows 
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine ,
With sweet musk-roses , and with eglantine :
There sleeps Titania some time of the night ,
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight ;
And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin ,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in :
And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes ,
And make her full of hateful fantasies .
Take thou some of it , and seek through this grove :
A sweet Athenian lady is in love 
With a disdainful youth : anoint his eyes ;
But do it when the next thing he espies 
May be the lady . Thou shalt know the man 
By the Athenian garments he hath on .
Effect it with some care , that he may prove 
More fond on her than she upon her love .
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow .

Fear not , my lord , your servant shall do so .


Come , now a roundel and a fairy song ;
Then , for the third of a minute , hence ;
Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds ,
Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings ,
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 .


I .

You spotted snakes with double tongue ,
Thorny hedge-hogs , be not seen ;
Newts , and blind-worms , do no wrong ;
Come not near our fairy queen .
Philomel , with melody ,
Sing in our sweet lullaby :
Lulla , lulla , lullaby ; lulla , lulla , lullaby :
Never harm ,
Nor spell , nor charm ,
Come our lovely lady nigh ;
So , good night , with lullaby .

II .

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 .


Hence , away ! now all is well .
One aloof stand sentinel .

What thou seest when thou dost wake ,
Do it for thy true-love take ;
Love and languish for his sake :
Be it ounce , or cat , or bear ,
Pard , or boar with bristled hair ,
In thy eye that shall appear 
When thou wak'st , it is thy dear .
Wake when some vile thing is near .

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 .

Be it so , Lysander : find you out a bed ,
For I upon this bank will rest my head .

One turf shall serve as pillow for us both ;
One heart , one bed , two bosoms , and one troth .

Nay , good Lysander ; for my sake , my dear ,
Lie further off yet , do not lie so near .

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 ;
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 .

Lysander riddles very prettily :
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride ,
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 ,
So far be distant ; and , good night , sweet friend .
Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end !

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 !

With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd !


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 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 ,
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 .
When thou wak'st , let love forbid 
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid :
So awake when I am gone ;
For I must now to Oberon .


Stay , though thou kill me , sweet Demetrius .

I charge thee , hence , and do not haunt me thus .

O ! wilt thou darkling leave me ? do not so .

Stay , on thy peril : I alone will go .


O ! I am out of breath in this fond chase .
The more my prayer , the lesser is my grace .
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 ;
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 ?
But who is here ? Lysander ! on the ground !
Dead ? or asleep ? I see no blood , no wound .
Lysander , if you live , good sir , awake .

And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake .
Transparent Helena ! Nature shows art ,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart .
Where is Demetrius ? O ! how fit a word 
Is that vile name to perish on my sword .

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 .

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 ,
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 ,
And leads me to your eyes ; where I o'erlook 
Love's stories written in love's richest book .

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 ,
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 .
But fare you well : perforce I must confess 
I thought you lord of more true gentleness .
O ! that a lady of one man refus'd ,
Should of another therefore be abus'd .


She sees not Hermia . Hermia , sleep thou there ;
And never mayst thou come Lysander near .
For , as a surfeit of the sweetest things 
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings ;
Or , as the heresies that men do leave 
Are hated most of those they did deceive :
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 .


Help me , Lysander , help me ! do thy best 
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast .
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 prey .
Lysander ! what ! remov'd ?Lysander ! lord !
What ! out of hearing ? gone ? no sound , no word ?
Alack ! where are you ? speak , an if you hear ;
Speak , of all loves ! I swound almost with fear .
No ! then I well perceive you are not nigh :
Either death or you I'll find immediately .

Are we all met ?

Pat , pat ; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal . This green plot shall be our stage , this hawthorn-brake our tiring-house ; and we will do it in action as we will do it before the duke .

Peter Quince ,

What sayst thou , bully Bottom ?

There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby that will never please . First , Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself , which the ladies cannot abide . How answer you that ?

By'r lakin , a parlous fear .

I believe we must leave the killing out , when all is done .

Not a whit : I have a device to make all well . Write me a prologue ; and let the prologue seem to say , we will do no harm with our swords , and that Pyramus is not killed indeed ; and , for the more better assurance , tell them that I , Pyramus , am not Pyramus , but Bottom the weaver : this will put them out of fear .

Well , we will have such a prologue , and it shall be written in eight and six .

No , make it two more : let it be written in eight and eight .

Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion ?

I fear it , I promise you .

Masters , you ought to consider with yourselves : to bring in ,God shield us !a lion among ladies , is a most dreadful thing ; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living , and we ought to look to it .

Therefore , another prologue must tell he is not a lion .

Nay , you must name his name , and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck ; and he himself must speak through , saying thus , or to the same defect , 'Ladies ,' or , 'Fair ladies ,' 'I would wish you ,' or , 'I would request you ,' or , 'I would entreat you , not to fear , not to tremble : my life for yours . If you think I come hither as a lion , it were pity of my life : no , I am no such thing : I am a man as other men are ;' and there indeed let him name his name , and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner .

Well , it shall be so . But there is two hard things , that is , to bring the moonlight into a chamber ; for , you know , Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight .

Doth the moon shine that night we play our play ?

A calendar , a calendar ! look in the almanack ; find out moonshine , find out moonshine .

Yes , it doth shine that night .

Why , then may you leave a casement of the great chamber-window , where we play , open ; and the moon may shine in at the casement .

Ay ; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn , and say he comes to disfigure , or to present , the person of Moonshine . Then , there is another thing : we must have a wall in the great chamber ; for Pyramus and Thisby , says the story , did talk through the chink of a wall .

You can never bring in a wall . What say you , Bottom ?

Some man or other must present Wall ; and let him have some plaster , or some loam , or some rough-cast about him , to signify wall ; and let him hold his fingers thus , and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper .

If that may be , than all is well . Come , sit down , every mother's son , and rehearse your parts . Pyramus , you begin : when you have spoken your speech , enter into that brake ; and so every one according to his cue .


What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here ,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen ?
What ! a play toward ; I'll be an auditor ;
An actor too perhaps , if I see cause .

Speak , Pyramus .Thisby , stand forth .

Thisby , the flowers have odious savours sweet ,

Odorous , odorous .

odours savours sweet :
So hath thy breath , my dearest Thisby dear . But hark , a voice ! stay thou but here awhile ,
And by and by I will to thee appear .


A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here !


Must I speak now ?

Ay , marry , must you ; for you must understand , he goes but to see a noise that he heard , and is to come again .

Most radiant Pyramus , most lily-white of hue ,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier ,
Most brisky juvenal , and eke most lovely Jew ,
As true as truest horse that yet would never tire ,
I'll meet thee , Pyramus , at Ninny's tomb .

'Ninus' tomb ,' man . Why , you must not speak that yet ; that you answer to Pyramus : you speak all your part at once , cues and all . Pyramus , enter : your cue is past ; it is 'never tire .' 

O !As true as truest horse , that yet would never tire .


If I were , fair Thisby , I were only thine .

O monstrous ! O strange ! we are haunted .
Pray , masters ! fly , masters !Help !


I'll follow you , I'll lead you about a round ,
Through bog , through bush , through brake , through brier :
Sometime a horse I'll be , sometime a hound ,
A hog , a headless bear , sometime a fire ;
And neigh , and bark , and grunt , and roar , and burn ,
Like horse , hound , hog , bear , fire , at every turn .


Why do they run away ? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard .


O Bottom , thou art changed ! what do I see on thee ?

What do you see ? you see an ass-head of your own , do you ?

Bless thee , Bottom ! bless thee ! thou art translated .


I see their knavery : this is to make an ass of me ; to fright me , if they could . But I will not stir from this place , do what they can : I will walk up and down here , and I will sing , that they shall hear I am not afraid .

The ousel-cock , so black of hue ,
With orange-tawny bill ,
The throstle with his note so true ,
The wren with little quill .


What angel wakes me from my flowery bed ?


The finch , the sparrow , and the lark ,
The plain-song cuckoo gray ,
Whose note full many a man doth mark ,
And dares not answer , nay ;

for indeed , who would set his wit to so foolish a bird ? who would give a bird the lie , though he cry 'cuckoo' never so ?

I pray thee , gentle mortal , sing again :
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note ;
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape ;
And thy fair virtue's force , perforce , doth move me ,
On the first view , to say , to swear , I love thee .

Methinks , mistress , you should have little reason for that : and yet , to say the truth , reason and love keep little company together now-a-days . The more the pity , that some honest neighbours will not make them friends . Nay , I can gleek upon occasion .

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful .

Not so , neither ; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood , I have enough to serve mine own turn .

Out of this wood do not desire to go :
Thou shalt remain here , whe'r thou wilt or no .
I am a spirit of no common rate ;
The summer still doth tend upon my state ;
And I do love thee : therefore , go with me ;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee ,
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep ,
And sing , while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep :
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so 
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go .
Pease-blossom ! Cobweb ! Moth ! and Mustardseed !


Ready .

And I .

And I .

And I .

Where shall we go ?

Be kind and courteous to this gentleman ;
Hop in his walks , and gambol in his eyes ;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries ,
With purple grapes , green figs , and mulberries .
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees ,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs ,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes ,
To have my love to bed , and to arise ;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies 
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes :
Nod to him , elves , and do him courtesies .

Hail , mortal !

Hail !

Hail !

Hail !

I cry your worships mercy , heartily : I beseech your worship's name .

Cobweb .

I shall desire you of more acquaintance , good Master Cobweb : if I out my finger , I shall make bold with you . Your name , honest gentleman ?

Pease-blossom .

I pray you , commend me to Mistress Squash , your mother , and to Master Peascod , your father . Good Master Pease-blossom , I shall desire you of more acquaintance too . Your name , I beseech you , sir ?

Mustard-seed .

Good Master Mustard-seed , I know your patience well : that same cowardly , giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house . I promise you , your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now . I desire you of more acquaintance , good Master Mustard-seed .

Come , wait upon him ; lead him to my bower .
The moon methinks , looks with a watery eye ;
And when she weeps , weeps every little flower ,
Lamenting some enforced chastity .
Tie up my love's tongue , bring him silently .


I wonder if Titania be awak'd ;
Then , what it was that next came in her eye ,
Which she must dote on in extremity .
Here comes my messenger .


How now , mad spirit !

What night-rule now about this haunted grove ?

My mistress with a monster is in love .
Near to her close and consecrated bower ,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour ,
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 .
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 ;
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 ,
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 ,
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 ;
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 ;
When in that moment , so it came to pass ,
Titania wak'd and straightway lov'd an ass .

This falls out better than I could devise .
But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes 
With the love-juice , as I did bid thee do ?

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 .


Stand close : this is the same Athenian .

This is the woman ; but not this the man .

O ! why rebuke you him that loves you so ?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe .

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 ,
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 
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 .
It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him ;
So should a murderer look , so dead , so grim .

So should the murder'd look , and so should I ,
Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty ;
Yet you , the murderer , look as bright , as clear ,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere .

What's this to my Lysander ? where is he ?
Ah ! good Demetrius , wilt thou give him me ?

I had rather give his carcass to my hounds .

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 !
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 ?
An adder did it ; for with doubler tongue 
Than thine , thou serpent , never adder stung .

You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood :
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood ,
Nor is he dead , for aught that I can tell .

I pray thee , tell me then that he is well .

An if I could , what should I get therefore ?

A privilege never to see me more .
And from thy hated presence part I so ;
See me no more , whe'r he be dead or no .


There is no following her in this fierce vein :
Here therefore for awhile I will remain .
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 .


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 .

Then fate o'er-rules , that , one man holding troth ,
A million fail , confounding oath on oath .

About the wood go swifter than the wind ,
And Helena of Athens look thou find :
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 .

I go , I go ; look how I go ;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow .

Flower of this purple dye ,
Hit with Cupid's archery ,
Sink in apple of his eye .
When his love he doth espy ,
Let her shine as gloriously 
As the Venus of the sky .
When thou wak'st , if she be by ,
Beg of her for remedy .


Captain of our fairy band ,
Helena is here at hand ,
And the youth , mistook by me ,
Pleading for a lover's fee .
Shall we their fond pageant see ?
Lord , what fools these mortals be !

Stand aside : the noise they make 
Will cause Demetrius to awake .

Then will two at once woo one ;
That must needs be sport alone ;
And those things do best please me 
That befall preposterously .

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 .
How can these things in me seem scorn to you ,
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true ?

You do advance your cunning more and more .
When truth kills truth , O devilish-holy fray !
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 .

I had no judgment when to her I swore .

Nor none , in my mind , now you give her o'er .

Demetrius loves her , and he loves not you .

O Helen ! goddess , nymph , perfect , divine !
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 ,
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 .

O spite ! O hell ! I see you all are bent 
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 ,
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 ,
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 ,
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 .

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 ;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath ,
Whom I do love , and will do to my death .

Never did mockers waste more idle breath .

Lysander , keep thy Hermia ; I will none :
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 .

Helen , it is not so .

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 .


Dark night , that from the eye his function takes ,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes ;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense ,
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 ?

Why should he stay , whom love doth press to go ?

What love could press Lysander from my side ?

Lysander's love , that would not let him bide ,
Fair Helena , who more engilds the night 
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 ?

You speak not as you think : it cannot be .

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 !
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 ,
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 ,
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 ,
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 ;
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 ,
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 .

I am amazed at your passionate words .
I scorn you not : it seems that you scorn me .

Have you not set Lysander , as in scorn ,
To follow me and praise my eyes and face ,
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 
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 ?
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 .

I understand not what you mean by this .

Ay , do , persever , counterfeit sad looks ,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back ;
Wink each at other ; hold the sweet jest up :
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 ,
Which death or absence soon shall remedy .

Stay , gentle Helena ! hear my excuse :
My love , my life , my soul , fair Helena !

O excellent !

Sweet , do not scorn her so .

If she cannot entreat , I can compel .

Thou canst compel no more than she entreat :
Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers .
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 .

I say I love thee more than he can do .

If thou say so , withdraw , and prove it too .

Quick , come !

Lysander , whereto tends all this ?

Away , you Ethiop !

No , no , he'll  .  .  .
Seem to break loose ; take on , as you would follow ,
But yet come not : you are a tame man , go !

Hang off , thou cat , thou burr ! vile thing , let loose ,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent .

Why are you grown so rude ? what change is this ,
Sweet love ,

Thy love ! out , tawny Tartar , out !
Out , loathed medicine ! hated poison , hence !

Do you not jest ?

Yes , sooth ; and so do you .

Demetrius , I will keep my word with thee .

I would I had your bond , for I perceive 
A weak bond holds you : I'll not trust your word .

What ! should I hurt her , strike her , kill her dead ?
Although I hate her , I'll not harm her so .

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 .
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 ?

Ay , by my life ;
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 .

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 ?

Fine , i' faith !
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 !

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 ,
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 ;
How low am I ? I am not yet so low 
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes .

I pray you , though you mock me , gentlemen ,
Let her not hurt me : I was never curst ;
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 ,
That I can match her .

Lower ! hark , again .

Good Hermia , do not be so bitter with me .
I evermore did love you , Hermia ,
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 ;
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 ,
And follow you no further : let me go :
You see how simple and how fond I am .

Why , get you gone . Who is't that hinders you ?

A foolish heart , that I leave here behind .

What ! with Lysander ?

With Demetrius .

Be not afraid : she shall not harm thee , Helena .

No , sir ; she shall not , though you take her part .

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 .

'Little' again ! nothing but 'low' and 'little !' 
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus ?
Let me come to her .

Get you gone , you dwarf ;
You minimus , of hindering knot-grass made ;
You bead , you acorn !

You are too officious 
In her behalf that scorns your services .
Let her alone ; speak not of Helena ;
Take not her part , for , if thou dost intend 
Never so little show of love to her ,
Thou shalt aby it .

Now she holds me not ;
Now follow , if thou dar'st , to try whose right ,
Or thine or mine , is most in Helena .

Follow ! nay , I'll go with thee , cheek by jole .


You , mistress , all this coil is 'long of you :
Nay , go not back .

I will not trust you , I ,
Nor longer stay in your curst company .
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray ,
My legs are longer though , to run away .


I am amaz'd , and know not what to say .


This is thy negligence : still thou mistak'st ,
Or else commit'st thy knaveries wilfully .

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 ,
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 .

Thou see'st these lovers seek a place to fight :
Hie therefore , Robin , overcast the night ;
The starry welking cover thou anon 
With drooping fog as black as Acheron ;
And lead these testy rivals so astray ,
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 ;
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 ;
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 
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 ,
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 .

My fairy lord , this must be done with haste ,
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 ,
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 ,
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night .

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 ,
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 :
We may effect this business yet ere day .

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 .


Where art thou , proud Demetrius ? speak thou now .

Here , villain ! drawn and ready . Where art thou ?

I will be with thee straight .

Follow me , then ,
To plainer ground .

Lysander ! speak again .
Thou runaway , thou coward , art thou fled ?
Speak ! In some bush ? Where dost thou hide thy head ?

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 sword on thee .

Yea , art thou there ?

Follow my voice : we'll try no manhood here .

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 ;
That fallen am I in dark uneven way ,
And here will rest me .

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

Ho ! ho ! ho ! Coward , why com'st thou not ?

Abide me , if thou dar'st ; for well I wot 
Thou runn'st before me , shifting every place ,
And dar'st not stand , nor look me in the face .
Where art thou now ?

Come hither : I am here .

Nay then , thou mock'st me . Thou shalt buy this dear ,
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 .

O weary night ! O long and tedious night ,
Abate thy hours ! shine , comforts , from the east !
That I may back to Athens by daylight ,
From these that my poor company detest :
And sleep , that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye ,
Steal me awhile from mine own company .

Yet but three ? Come one more ;
Two of both kinds make up four .
Here she comes , curst and sad :
Cupid is a knavish lad ,
Thus to make poor females mad .

Never so weary , never so 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 desires .
Here will I rest me till the break of day .
Heavens shield Lysander , if they mean a fray !

On the ground 
Sleep sound :
I'll apply 
To your eye ,
Gentle lover , remedy 

When thou wak'st ,
Thou tak'st 
True delight 
In the sight 
Of thy former lady's eye :
And the country proverb known ,
That every man should take his own ,
In your waking shall be shown :
Jack shall have Jill ;
Nought shall go ill ;
The man shall have his mare again ,
And all shall be well .


Come , sit thee down upon this flowery bed ,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy ,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head ,
And kiss thy fair large ears , my gentle joy .

Where's Pease-blossom ?

Ready .

Scratch my head , Pease-blossom . Where's Mounsieur Cobweb ?

Ready .

Mounsieur Cobweb , good mounsieur , get your weapons in your hand , and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle ; and , good mounsieur , bring me the honey-bag . Do not fret yourself too much in the action , mounsieur ; and , good mounsieur , have a care the honey-bag break not ; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag , signior . Where's Mounsieur Mustard-seed ?

Ready .

Give me your neaf , Mounsieur Mustard-seed . Pray you , leave your curtsy , good mounsieur .

What's your will ?

Nothing , good mounsieur , but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch . I must to the barber's , mounsieur , for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face ; and I am such a tender ass , if my hair do but tickle me , I must scratch .

What , wilt thou hear some music , my sweet love ?

I have a reasonable good ear in music : let us have the tongs and the bones .

Or say , sweet love , what thou desir'st to eat .

Truly , a peck of provender : I could munch your good dry oats . Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay : good hay , sweet hay , hath no fellow .

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek 
The squirrel's hoard , and fetch thee thence new nuts .

I had rather have a handful or two of dried pease . But , I pray you , let none of your people stir me : I have an exposition of sleep come upon me .

Sleep thou , and I will wind thee in my arms .
Fairies , be gone , and be all ways away .

So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle 
Gently entwist ; the female ivy so 
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm .
O ! how I love thee ; how I dote on thee !

Welcome , good Robin . See'st thou this sweet sight ?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity :
For , meeting her of late behind the wood ,
Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool ,
I did upbraid her and fall out with her ;
For she his hairy temples then had rounded 
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers ;
And that same dew , which sometime on the buds 
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls ,
Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes 
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail .
When I had at my pleasure taunted her ,
And she in mild terms begg'd my patience ,
I then did ask of her her changeling child ;
Which straight she gave me , and her fairy sent 
To bear him to my bower in fairy land .
And now I have the boy , I will undo 
This hateful imperfection of her eyes :
And , gentle Puck , take this transformed scalp 
From off the head of this Athenian swain ,
That he , awaking when the other do ,
May all to Athens back again repair ,
And think no more of this night's accidents 
But as the fierce vexation of a dream .
But first I will release the fairy queen .


Be as thou wast wont to be ;
See as thou wast wont to see :
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower 
Hath such force and blessed power .

Now , my Titania ; wake you , my sweet queen .

My Oberon ! what visions have I seen !
Methought I was enamour'd of an ass .

There lies your love .

How came these things to pass ?
O ! how mine eyes do loathe his visage now .

Silence , awhile . Robin , take off this head .
Titania , music call ; and strike more dead 
Than common sleep of all these five the sense .

Music , ho ! music ! such as charmeth sleep .


When thou wak'st , with thine own fool's eyes peep .

Sound , music !

Come , my queen , take hands with me ,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be .
Now thou and I are new in amity ,
And will to-morrow midnight solemnly 
Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly ,
And bless it to all fair prosperity .
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be 
Wedded , with Theseus , all in jollity .


Fairy king , attend , and mark :
I do hear the morning lark .

Then , my queen , in silence sad ,
Trip we after the night's shade ;
We the globe can compass soon ,
Swifter than the wandering moon .

Come , my lord ; and in our flight 
Tell me how it came this night 
That I sleeping here was found 
With these mortals on the ground .


Go , one of you , find out the forester ;
For now our observation is perform'd ;
And since we have the vaward of the day ,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds .
Uncouple in the western valley ; let them go :
Dispatch , I say , and find the forester .
We will , fair queen , up to the mountain's top ,
And mark the musical confusion 
Of hounds and echo in conjunction .

I was with Hercules and Cadmus once ,
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear 
With hounds of Sparta : never did I hear 
Such gallant chiding ; for , besides the groves ,
The skies , the fountains , every region near 
Seem'd all one mutual cry . I never heard 
So musical a discord , such sweet thunder .

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind ,
So flew'd , so sanded ; and their heads are hung 
With ears that sweep away the morning dew ;
Crook-knee'd , and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ;
Slow in pursuit , but match'd in mouth like bells ,
Each under each . A cry more tuneable 
Was never holla'd to , nor cheer'd with horn ,
In Crete , in Sparta , nor in Thessaly :
Judge , when you hear . But , soft ! what nymphs are these ?

My lord , this is my daughter here asleep ;
And this , Lysander ; this Demetrius is ;
This Helena , old Nedar's Helena :
I wonder of their being here together .

No doubt they rose up early to observe 
The rite of May , and , hearing our intent ,
Came here in grace of our solemnity .
But speak , Egeus , is not this the day 
That Hermia should give answer of her choice ?

It is , my lord .

Go , bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns .


Good morrow , friends . Saint Valentine is past :

Begin these wood-birds but to couple now ?

Pardon , my lord .


I pray you all , stand up .
I know you two are rival enemies :
How comes this gentle concord in the world ,
That hatred is so far from jealousy ,
To sleep by hate , and fear no enmity ?

My lord , I shall reply amazedly ,
Half sleep , half waking : but as yet , I swear ,
I cannot truly say how I came here ;
But , as I think ,for truly would I speak ,
And now I do bethink me , so it is ,
I came with Hermia hither : our intent 
Was to be gone from Athens , where we might ,
Without the peril of the Athenian law 

Enough , enough , my lord ; you have enough :
I beg the law , the law , upon his head .
They would have stol'n away ; they would , Demetrius ,
Thereby to have defeated you and me ;
You of your wife , and me of my consent ,
Of my consent that she should be your wife .

My lord , fair Helen told me of their stealth ,
Of this their purpose hither , to this wood ;
And I in fury hither follow'd them ,
Fair Helena in fancy following me .
But , my good lord , I wot not by what power ,
But by some power it is ,my love to Hermia ,
Melted as doth the snow , seems to me now 
As the remembrance of an idle gaud 
Which in my childhood I did dote upon ;
And all the faith , the virtue of my heart ,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye ,
Is only Helena . To her , my lord ,
Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia :
But , like in sickness , did I loathe this food ;
But , as in health , come to my natural taste ,
Now do I wish it , love it , long for it ,
And will for evermore be true to it .

Fair lovers , you are fortunately met :
Of this discourse we more will hear anon .
Egeus , I will overbear your will ,
For in the temple , by and by , with us ,
These couples shall eternally be knit :
And , for the morning now is something worn ,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside .
Away with us , to Athens : three and three ,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity .
Come , Hippolyta .


These things seem small and undistinguishable ,
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds .

Methinks I see these things with parted eye ,
When everything seems double .

So methinks :
And I have found Demetrius , like a jewel ,
Mine own , and not mine own .

Are you sure 
That we are awake ? It seems to me 
That yet we sleep , we dream . Do you not think 
The duke was here , and bid us follow him ?

Yea ; and my father .

And Hippolyta .

And he did bid us follow to the temple .

Why then , we are awake . Let's follow him ;
And by the way let us recount our dreams .


When my cue comes , call me , and I will answer : my next is , 'Most fair Pyramus .' Heigh-ho ! Peter Quince ! Flute , the bellows-mender ! Snout , the tinker ! Starveling ! God's my life ! stolen hence , and left me asleep ! I have had a most rare vision . I have had a dream , past the wit of man to say what dream it was : man is but an ass , if he go about to expound this dream . Methought I was there is no man can tell what . Methought I was ,and methought I had ,but man is but a patched fool , if he will offer to say what methought I had . The eye of man hath not heard , the ear of man hath not seen , man's hand is not able to taste , his tongue to conceive , nor his heart to report , what my dream was . I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream : it shall be called Bottom's Dream , because it hath no bottom ; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play , before the duke : peradventure , to make it the more gracious , I shall sing it at her death .


Have you sent to Bottom's house ? is he come home yet ?

He cannot be heard of . Out of doubt he is transported .

If he come not , then the play is marred : it goes not forward , doth it ?

It is not possible : you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he .

No ; he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens .

Yea , and the best person too ; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice .

You must say , 'paragon :' a paramour is , God bless us ! a thing of naught .


Masters , the duke is coming from the temple , and there is two or three lords and ladies more married : if our sport had gone forward , we had all been made men .

O sweet bully Bottom ! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life ; he could not have 'scaped sixpence a day : an the duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus , I'll be hanged ; he would have deserved it : sixpence a day in Pyramus , or nothing .


Where are these lads ? where are these hearts ?

Bottom ! O most courageous day ! O most happy hour !

Masters , I am to discourse wonders : but ask me not what ; for if I tell you , I am no true Athenian . I will tell you everything , right as it fell out .

Let us hear , sweet Bottom .

Not a word of me . All that I will tell you is , that the duke hath dined . Get your apparel together , good strings to your beards , new ribbons to your pumps ; meet presently at the palace ; every man look o'er his part ; for the short and the long is , our play is preferred . In any case , let Thisby have clean linen ; and let not him that plays the lion pare his nails , for they shall hang out for the lion's claws . And , most dear actors , eat no onions nor garlic , for we are to utter sweet breath , and I do not doubt but to hear them say , it is a sweet comedy . No more words : away ! go ; away .

'Tis strange , my Theseus , that these lovers speak of .

More strange than true . I never may believe 
These antique fables , nor these fairy toys .
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains ,
Such shaping fantasies , that apprehend 
More than cool reason ever comprehends .
The lunatic , the lover , and the poet ,
Are of imagination all compact :
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ,
That is , the madman ; the lover , all as frantic ,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt :
The poet's eye , in a fine frenzy rolling ,
Doth glance from heaven to earth , from earth to heaven ;
And , as imagination bodies forth 
The forms of things unknown , the poet's pen 
Turns them to shapes , and gives to airy nothing 
A local habitation and a name .
Such tricks hath strong imagination ,
That , if it would but apprehend some joy ,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy ;
Or in the night , imagining some fear ,
How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear !

But all the story of the night told over ,
And all their minds transfigur'd so together ,
More witnesseth than fancy's images ,
And grows to something of great constancy ,
But , howsoever , strange and admirable .

Here come the lovers , full of joy and mirth .


Joy , gentle friends ! joy , and fresh days of love 

Accompany your hearts !

More than to us 
Wait in your royal walks , your board , your bed !

Come now ; what masques , what dances shall we have ,
To wear away this long age of three hours 
Between our after-supper and bed-time ?
Where is our usual manager of mirth ?
What revels are in hand ? Is there no play ,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour ?
Call Philostrate .

Here , mighty Theseus .

Say , what abridgment have you for this evening ?
What masque ? what music ? How shall we beguile 
The lazy time , if not with some delight ?

There is a brief how many sports are ripe ;
Make choice of which your highness will see first .


The battle with the Centaurs , to be sung 
By an Athenian eunuch to the harp .
We'll none of that : that have I told my love ,
In glory of my kinsman Hercules .
The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals ,
Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage .
That is an old device ; and it was play'd 
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror .
The thrice three Muses mourning for the death 
Of Learning , late deceas'd in beggary .
That is some satire keen and critical ,
Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony .
A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus 
And his love Thisbe ; very tragical mirth .
Merry and tragical ! tedious and brief !
That is , hot ice and wonderous strange snow .
How shall we find the concord of this discord ?

A play there is , my lord , some ten words long ,
Which is as brief as I have known a play ;
But by ten words , my lord , it is too long ,
Which makes it tedious ; for in all the play 
There is not one word apt , one player fitted .
And tragical , my noble lord , it is ;
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself .
Which when I saw rehears'd , I must confess ,
Made mine eyes water ; but more merry tears 
The passion of loud laughter never shed .

What are they that do play it ?

Hard-handed men , that work in Athens here ,
Which never labour'd in their minds till now ,
And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories 
With this same play , against your nuptial .

And we will hear it .

No , my noble lord ;
It is not for you : I have heard it over ,
And it is nothing , nothing in the world ;
Unless you can find sport in their intents ,
Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain ,
To do you service .

I will hear that play ;
For never anything can be amiss ,
When simpleness and duty tender it .
Go , bring them in : and take your places , ladies .


I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd ,
And duty in his service perishing .

Why , gentle sweet , you shall see no such thing .

He says they can do nothing in this kind .

The kinder we , to give them thanks for nothing .
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake :
And what poor duty cannot do , noble respect 
Takes it in might , not merit .
Where I have come , great clerks have purposed 
To greet me with premeditated welcomes ;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale ,
Make periods in the midst of sentences ,
Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears ,
And , in conclusion , dumbly have broke off ,
Not paying me a welcome . Trust me , sweet ,
Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome ;
And in the modesty of fearful duty 
I read as much as from the rattling tongue 
Of saucy and audacious eloquence .
Love , therefore , and tongue-tied simplicity 
In least speak most , to my capacity .


So please your Grace , the Prologue is address'd .

Let him approach .


If we offend , it is with our good will .
That you should think , we come not to offend ,
But with good will . To show our simple skill ,
That is the true beginning of our end .
Consider then we come but in despite .
We do not come as minding to content you ,
Our true intent is . All for your delight ,
We are not here . That you should here repent you ,
The actors are at hand ; and , by their show ,
You shall know all that you are like to know .


This fellow doth not stand upon points .

He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt ; he knows not the stop . A good moral , my lord : it is not enough to speak , but to speak true .

Indeed he hath played on his prologue like a child on a recorder ; a sound , but not in government .

His speech was like a tangled chain ; nothing impaired , but all disordered . Who is next ?


Gentles , perchance you wonder at this show ;
But wonder on , till truth make all things plain .
This man is Pyramus , if you would know ;
This beauteous lady Thisby is , certain .
This man , with lime and rough-cast , doth present 
Wall , that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder ;
And through Wall's chink , poor souls , they are content 
To whisper , at the which let no man wonder .
This man , with lanthorn , dog , and bush of thorn ,
Presenteth Moonshine ; for , if you will know ,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn 
To meet at Ninus' tomb , there , there to woo .
This grisly beast , which Lion hight by name ,
The trusty Thisby , coming first by night ,
Did scare away , or rather did affright ;
And , as she fied , her mantle she did fall ,
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain .
Anon comes Pyramus , sweet youth and tall ,
And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain :
Whereat , with blade , with bloody blameful blade ,
He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast ;
And Thisby , tarrying in mulberry shade ,
His dagger drew , and died . For all the rest ,
Let Lion , Moonshine , Wall , and lovers twain ,
At large discourse , while here they do remain .


I wonder , if the lion be to speak .

No wonder , my lord : one lion may , when many asses do .
Wall . In this same interlude it doth befall 
That I , one Snout by name , present a wall ;
And such a wall , as I would have you think ,
That had in it a crannied hole or chink ,
Through which the lovers , Pyramus and Thisby ,
Did whisper often very secretly .
This loam , this rough-cast , and this stone doth show 
That I am that same wall ; the truth is so ;
And this the cranny is , right and sinister ,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper .

Would you desire lime and hair to speak better ?

It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse , my lord .

Pyramus draws near the wall : silence !


O grim-look'd night ! O night with hue so black !
O night , which ever art when day is not !
O night ! O night ! alack , alack , alack !
I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot .
And thou , O wall ! O sweet , O lovely wall !
That stand'st between her father's ground and mine ;
Thou wall , O wall ! O sweet , and lovely wall !
Show me thy chink to blink through with mine eyne .

Thanks , courteous wall : Jove shield thee well for this !
But what see I ? No Thisby do I see .
O wicked wall ! through whom I see no bliss ;
Curs'd be thy stones for thus deceiving me !

The wall , methinks , being sensible , should curse again .

No , in truth , sir , he should not . 'Deceiving me ,' is Thisby's cue : she is to enter now , and I am to spy her through the wall . You shall see , it will fall pat as I told you . Yonder she comes .


O wall ! full often hast thou heard my moans ,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me :
My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones ,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee .

I see a voice : now will I to the chink ,
To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face .
Thisby .

My love ! thou art my love , I think .

Think what thou wilt , I am thy lover's grace ;
And , like Limander , am I trusty still .

And I like Helen , till the Fates me kill .

Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true .

As Shafalus to Procrus , I to you .

O ! kiss me through the hole of this vile wall .

I kiss the wall's hole , not your lips at all 

Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway ?

'Tide life , 'tide death , I come without delay .


Thus have I , Wall , my part discharged so ;
And , being done , thus Wall away doth go .


Now is the mural down between the two neighbours .

No remedy , my lord , when walls are so wilful to hear without warning .

This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard .

The best in this kind are but shadows , and the worst are no worse , if imagination amend them .

It must be your imagination then , and not theirs .

If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves , they may pass for excellent men . Here come two noble beasts in , a man and a lion .


You , ladies , you , whose gentle hearts do fear 
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor ,
May now perchance both quake and tremble here ,
When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar .
Then know that I , one Snug the joiner , am 
A lion-fell , nor else no lion's dam :
For , if I should as lion come in strife 
Into this place , 'twere pity on my life .

A very gentle beast , and of a good conscience .

The very best at a beast , my lord , that e'er I saw .

This lion is a very fox for his valour .

True ; and a goose for his discretion .

Not so , my lord ; for his valour cannot carry his discretion , and the fox carries the goose .

His discretion , I am sure , cannot carry his valour , for the goose carries not the fox . It is well : leave it to his discretion , and let us listen to the moon .

This lanthorn doth the horned moon present ;

He should have worn the horns on his head .

He is no crescent , and his horns are invisible within the circumference .

This lanthorn doth the horned moon present ;
Myself the man i' the moon do seem to be .

This is the greatest error of all the rest .
The man should be put into the lanthorn : how is it else the man i' the moon ?

He dares not come there for the candle ; for , you see , it is already in snuff .

I am aweary of this moon : would he would change !

It appears , by his small light of discretion , that he is in the wane ; but yet , in courtesy , in all reason , we must stay the time .

Proceed , Moon .

All that I have to say , is , to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon ; I , the man in the moon ; this thorn-bush , my thorn-bush ; and this dog , my dog .

Why , all these should be in the lanthorn ; for all these are in the moon . But , silence ! here comes Thisbe .


This is old Ninny's tomb . Where is my love ?

Oh .


Well roared , Lion .

Well run , Thisbe .

Well shone , Moon . Truly , the moon shines with a good grace .


Well moused , Lion .

And then came Pyramus .

And so the lion vanished .


Sweet moon , I thank thee for thy sunny beams ;
I thank thee , moon , for shining now so bright ,
For , by thy gracious , golden , glittering streams ,
I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight .

But stay , O spite !
But mark , poor knight ,
What dreadful dole is here !
Eyes , do you see ?
How can it be ?
O dainty duck ! O dear !
Thy mantle good ,
What ! stain'd with blood !
Approach , ye Furies fell !
O Fates , come , come ,
Cut thread and thrum ;
Quail , crush , conclude , and quell !


This passion , and the death of a dear friend , would go near to make a man look sad .

Beshrew my heart , but I pity the man .

O ! wherefore , Nature , didst thou lions frame ?
Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear ?
Which is no , no which was the fairest dame 
That liv'd , that lov'd , that lik'd , that look'd with cheer .


Come tears , confound ;
Out , sword , and wound 
The pap of Pyramus :
Ay , that left pap ,
Where heart doth hop :
Thus die I , thus , thus , thus .

Now am I dead ,
Now am I fled ;
My soul is in the sky :
Tongue , lose thy light !
Moon , take thy flight !

Now die , die , die , die , die .

No die , but an ace , for him ; for he is but one .

Less than an ace , man , for he is dead ; he is nothing .

With the help of a surgeon , he might yet recover , and prove an ass .

How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover ?

She will find him by starlight . Here she comes ; and her passion ends the play .


Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus : I hope she will be brief .

A mote will turn the balance , which Pyramus , which Thisbe , is the better : he for a man , God warrant us ; she for a woman , God bless us .

She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes .

And thus she moans , videlicet :


Asleep , my love ?
What , dead , my dove ?
O Pyramus , arise !
Speak , speak ! Quite dumb ?
Dead , dead ! A tomb 
Must cover thy sweet eyes .
These lily lips ,
This cherry nose ,
These yellow cowslip cheeks ,
Are gone , are gone :
Lovers , make moan !
His eyes were green as leeks .
O , Sisters Three ,
Come , come to me ,
With hands as pale as milk ;
Lay them in gore ,
Since you have shore 
With shears his thread of silk .
Tongue , not a word :
Come , trusty sword :
Come , blade , my breast imbrue :

And farewell , friends ;
Thus Thisby ends :
Adieu , adieu , adieu .

Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead .

Ay , and Wall too .

No , I assure you ; the wall is down that parted their fathers . Will it please you to see the epilogue , or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company ?

No epilogue , I pray you ; for your play needs no excuse . Never excuse ; for when the players are all dead , there need none to be blamed . Marry , if he that writ it had played Pyramus , and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter , it would have been a fine tragedy : and so it is , truly , and very notably discharged . But come , your Bergomask : let your epilogue alone .

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve ;
Lovers , to bed ; 'tis almost fairy time .
I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn ,
As much as we this night have overwatch'd .
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd 
The heavy gait of night . Sweet friends , to bed .
A fortnight hold we this solemnity ,
In nightly revels , and new jollity .

Now the hungry lion roars ,
And the wolf behowls the moon ;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores ,
All with weary task fordone .
Now the wasted brands do glow ,
Whilst the screech-owl , screeching loud ,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe 
In remembrance of a shroud .
Now it is the time of night 
That the graves , all gaping wide ,
Every one lets forth his sprite ,
In the church-way paths to glide :
And we fairies , that do run 
By the triple Hecate's team ,
From the presence of the sun ,
Following darkness like a dream ,
Now are frolic ; not a mouse 
Shall disturb this hallow'd house :
I am sent with broom before ,
To sweep the dust behind the door .


Through the house give glimmering light 
By the dead and drowsy fire ;
Every elf and fairy sprite 
Hop as light as bird from brier ;
And this ditty after me 
Sing and dance it trippingly .

First , rehearse your song by rote ,
To each word a warbling note :
Hand in hand , with fairy grace ,
Will we sing , and bless this place .


Now , until the break of day ,
Through this house each fairy stray .
To the best bride-bed will we ,
Which by us shall blessed be ;
And the issue there create 
Ever shall be fortunate .
So shall all the couples three 
Ever true in loving be ;
And the blots of Nature's hand 
Shall not in their issue stand :
Never mole , hare-lip , nor scar ,
Nor mark prodigious , such as are 
Despised in nativity ,
Shall upon their children be .
With this field-dew consecrate ,
Every fairy take his gait ,
And each several chamber bless ,
Through this palace , with sweet peace ;
Ever shall in safety rest ,
And the owner of it blest .
Trip away ;
Make no stay ;
Meet me all by break of day .


If we shadows have offended ,
Think but this , and all is mended ,
That you have but slumber'd here 
While these visions did appear .
And this weak and idle theme ,
No more yielding but a dream ,
Gentles , do not reprehend :
If you pardon , we will mend .
And , as I'm an honest Puck ,
If we have unearned luck 
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue ,
We will make amends ere long ;
Else the Puck a liar call :
So , good night unto you all .
Give me your hands , if we be friends ,
And Robin shall restore amends .