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As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts:
Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watry moon :
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,
Fetch me that flower: the herb I showed 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.
Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth,
Having once this juice,
Another part of the Wood.
Enter TITANIA and her train.
Tit. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song;
* Love-in-idleness.-The heart's-ease
1st Fai. You spotted snakes with double tongue,
Chorus. Philomel with melody
Sing in our sweet lullaby,
Lulla, lulla, lullaby: lulla, lulla, lullaby;
2d Fai. Weaving spiders, come not here;
Hence you long-legged spinners, hence:
Ober.-What thou seest when thou dost awake
Enter BOTTOM, singing; Puск having clapt on him an ass's head
Bot. The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill—
Tit. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again;
Mine ear is much enamor'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.
Bot. 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 neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek* upon occasion.
Tit. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Bot. Not so neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
Tit. Out of this wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go,
Enter four Fairies.
1st Fai. Ready.
Where shall we go?
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1st Fai. Hail, mortal!
2nd Fai. Hail!
3rd Fai. Hail!
4th Fai. Hail!
Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily. I beseech your worship's
Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb.
cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. man?
Bot. I pray you commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peas-Blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Bot. Good Master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well. That same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many gentlemen of your house. I promise you your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaintance, good Master Mustard-seed.
OBERON enters unseen.
Tit. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom. Where's Monsieur Cobweb?
Bot. Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get up your weapons in your hands, and kill me a red-hipped humble bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much with the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's Monsieur Mustard-seed?
Bot. Give me your neif,* Monsieur Mustard-seed. courtesy, good monsieur.
Must. What's your will?
Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavaliero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; 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.
Pray you, leave your
Tit. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
Bot. I have a reasonable ear in music: let us have the tongs and the
Tit. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Bot. 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.
Tit I have a venturous fairy, that shall seek the squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas:-but, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
Tit. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Ober. Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this sweet sight?
(Touching her eyes with a herb.)
See, as thou were wont to see;
*But as the fierce vexation of a dream.-This fine stray verse comes looking in among the rest like a stern face through flowers.