SHAKESPEARE'S 
 MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 MIDSUMMER 
 NIGHTS DREAM. 
 
 THE FIRST QUARTO, 
 
 1600 : 
 
 A FAC-SIMILE IN PHOTO-LITHOGRAPHY, 
 
 WILLIAM GRIGGS, 
 
 FOR 13 YEARS PHOTO-LITHOGRAPHER TO THE INDIA OFFICE. 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 J. W. EBSWORTH, M.A., 
 
 EDITOR OF "the ' drolleries' OF THE RESTORATION ;" " THE BAGFORD 
 BALLADS " THE ROXBURGHE BALLADS," ETC. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 W. GRIGGS, Hanover Street, Peckham, S.E. 
 1880. 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 TO HIS GRACE 
 
 C6e Dufie of Detjonsftire: 
 
 CHANCELLOR OF CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY: 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 \Shakspere-Quarto Facsimiles, No. 3.] 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 to the photo-lithograph of 
 Fisher's Quarto Edition, 1600: 
 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. 
 
 1. The Two Quartos of 1600. 
 
 2. Mentioned by Meres, 1598. 
 
 3. The Date of the Comedy. 
 
 4. Supposed allusion to Gree?ie, 
 
 1592. 
 
 5 . Spenser's Faerie Queejie, 1596. 
 
 6. Pyramus and Thisbie, 1584, 
 
 etc. 
 
 § 7. North^s Plutarch, i579* 
 Theseus. 
 
 § 8. 77^^ Fairies: Oberon and 
 Titania. 
 
 §9. The^'Cretu of Patches;' ''Bot- 
 tom's Dream.'" 
 
 §10. Conclusion: The Three-fold 
 Plot. 
 
 § I. The Two Quartos of 1600. 
 
 |N the Registers of the Stationers' Company, vol. C = 3, 
 fol. 65 versoy is found the earliest known record of the 
 publication in printed form of "A Midsummer Night's 
 Dream:"— 
 
 [a.d. 1600.] 8 Octobris. 
 
 Thomas ffyssher Entred for his Copie vnder the handes of master 
 RoDES / and the Wardens, A booke called A 
 Mydsommer nightes Dreame vj*^ ^ 
 
 Students require absolute fidelity in the reproduction of such rare 
 originals. We therefore offer them this volume without any tamper- 
 
 ' Edward Arber's Transcript of the Registers of the Conpaity of Stationers, &c., 
 iii., 174. This entry undoubtedly refers to the Quarto here reproduced in its 
 integrity from an exemplar in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire. A few 
 pages deficient in the original (viz. i8, 19, 20, 21; 58, 59, 60, 61= eight pp.) 
 are supplied in the photo-lithograph from Mr. Huth's own copy. The Bodleian 
 Library and the Capell Collection, in Trinity College, Cambridge, possess the 
 same edition. There is also another perfect exemplar in the British Museum, 
 Case 34, k. 29. 
 
 4:9179 
 
vi INTRODUCTION, 
 
 ing whatever. Even the mutilated head-lines are left as they were 
 shorn by some reckless bookbinder. The crease in the paper of the 
 title-page (causing omission of two letters, a and h) is a defect in 
 the Devonshire copy. Of course, the other broken or imperfectly- 
 inked letters, etc., are in facsimile of the original. 
 
 For purposes of reference it is sufficient that we number the lines of 
 the Quarto^ in fours, on the inside margin ; and also mark the division 
 of Acts ^ which is given in the Folio, but not in either Quarto. We add 
 a list of characters, on a separate page, preceding the title, from a 
 later edition. 
 
 Like others of the early typographers and publishers, Thomas 
 Fisher indulged himself with a pictorial rebus and verbal synonyme 
 on his own name. As may be seen in our reproduction of the title- 
 page, he gives a King-fisher or Halcyon, "Alcione," with the motto 
 "Motos soleo componere fluctus."^ 
 
 Another Quarto edition was issued, by James Roberts, bearing date 
 of the same year, 1600; but of this publication no record is entered 
 in the Stationers' Registers. For the Introduction to the photo- 
 lithographic facsimile of this other edition may well be reserved a 
 consideration of the chief verbal difierences between these two 
 Quartos, and also the relation they bear to the first Folio of 1623 j the 
 editors whereof had certainly availed themselves of Roberts's printed 
 copy, although they professed to have had access to some manuscript 
 original, if we are to take their announcement literally.^ At the best, 
 they employed a playhouse copy, which was composed of Roberts's 
 printed Quarto, with additional stage directions, etc., in manuscript. 
 These statements are supported by proofs in our Introduction to the 
 second Quarto. 
 
 ' Fisher must have been proud of obtaining the favour of being allowed to print 
 this play-book, his very earliest recorded publication, w^ithin a few months after 
 gaining his freedom. 
 
 Compare the address to the readers of the first Folio, 1623, signed by John 
 Heminge and Henrie Condell : . . . " Where (before) you were abus'd with diuerfe 
 ftolne, and furreptitious copies, maimed, and deformed by the frauds and ftealthes 
 of iniurious impoftors, that expos'd them : euen thofe, are now offer'd to your view 
 cur'd, and perfect of their limbes ; and all the reft, abfolute in their numbers, as 
 
 he conceiu'd them wee haue fcarfe receiued from him a blot in his 
 
 papers." (Sheet sign. A 3.) 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 vii 
 
 § 2. Mentioned by Meres, 1598. 
 
 Two years earlier, at least, the comedy was known and popular on 
 the stage. Francis Meres, in the memorable list contained in his 
 Palladis Tamia : Wits Treasury ; being the Second part of Wits Com- 
 monwealth, September, 1598, fol. 281-2, mentions "Shakespeare 
 among English is the most excellent ... for the stage; for Comedy 
 witnes ... his Midsummers nights dream,'' etc. This is the earliest 
 distinct reference to the play, which may have been several years 
 before the public for anything yet shown to the contrary. It is the 
 fifth comedy in the list of six ; the others being almost certainly of 
 earlier date than this. 
 
 § 3. Date of the Comedy. 
 
 Among conjectural theories, one seemed plausibly to establish the 
 date as immediately following the wet summer of 1594. Numerous^ 
 are the contemporary accounts of the floods, the damaged fruit and 
 endangered harvest of that year. Dr. Forman's Ashmolean MS., 
 No. 384, gives such a description of the rainy season and the damage 
 that ensued as might suffice anew for a meteorological diary of 1879. 
 Stowe chronicles the same events, and the statement is copied into 
 Penkethman's Artachthos, 1638. In the Lectures on Jonah, delivered 
 at York in the same year, 1594, by the Rev. John King (afterwards 
 D.D., 1 60 1, and Bishop of London, 161 1), are passages, often 
 quoted, which refer to the unkind spring "by means of the abun- 
 dance of rains that fell ; our July hath been like to a February ; our 
 June even as an April;" and "such unseasonable weather and storms 
 of rain among us, which if we will observe, and compare it with that 
 which is past, we may say that the course of nature is very much in- 
 verted; our years are turned upside down; our summers are no 
 summers ; our harvests are no harvests ; our seed-times are no seed- 
 times ; for a great space of time scant any day hath been seen that 
 it hath not rained upon us ; and the nights are like the days." 
 {Lectures upon Jonah, delivered at York, in the year of our Lord 1594: 
 by John King, afterwards Lord Bishop of London. Reprinted by 
 
viii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 James Nichol. Edinburgh, 4to., 1864.) In the second Lecture he 
 had said, and pointedly in reference to "the year of the Lord 1593, 
 and 1595:" — "The months of the year have not yet gone about, 
 wherein the Lord hath bowed the heavens, and come down amongst 
 us with more tokens and earnests of his wrath intended, than the 
 agedest man of our land is able to recount of so small a time. For 
 say if ever the winds, since they blew one against the other, have 
 been more common, and more tempestuous, as if the four ends of 
 heaven had conspired to turn the foundations of the world upside 
 down ; thunders and lightnings, neither seasonable for the time, and 
 withal most terrible, with such effects brought forth," &c. {Ibid., 
 j"^p. 21.) We agree with Thomas Kenney in believing that "The 
 I detailed enumeration made by Titania, in Act ii. sc. i [our p. 14, 
 1 line 84, to p. 15, line 113], of the elemental convulsions which [had] 
 \ followed her quarrel with Oberon, seems to contain an unmistakable 
 i allusion to the unseasonable and disastrous weather with which we 
 l^know that England had been visited during that year." {Life and 
 Genius of Shakespeare, 1864, p. 175.) The Rev. Alexander Dyce 
 harshly designated the supposition of any such intended allusion to 
 the weather of 1594 as "ridiculous," but he also thus characterized 
 "not less so" any specific identification of the mourning by the 
 thrice-three Muses, 
 
 " For the death 
 Of learning, late deceast in beggary." 
 
 (P. 53, lines 50, 51.) 
 
 § 4. The Supposed Allusion to Greene, 1592. 
 
 P Nevertheless, it is by no means improbable that Shakespeare did 
 here refer to the blighted career and untimely death, in 1592, of that 
 Robert Greene, who had made scurrilous allusion to his rival as " an 
 
 I absolute Johannes Fac-totum," and *' in his owne conceit the onely 
 Shake-scene in a countrie." {Groatsworth of Wit, p. 30.) It seems 
 generally forgotten by book-learned critics, who are for the most part 
 unfamiliar with the actual stage-management and the resources of 
 dramatic authorship, that many a " telling " allusion to contemporary 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 events would be profitably foisted in (like a new verse on the day's 
 occurrences in a " topical song ") during the run of a drama, or on 
 its revival.^ 
 
 Therefore, even when we are able with precision to determine that 
 some particular allusion must have referred to an event of ascertained 
 date, we are not materially helped to a discovery of the original date 
 of the work itself ; only to the fact of ift being not later than the date 
 thus established. Oberon's description may have been intentionally 
 appropriated to the wet summer of 1594 (and in such case it was 
 written and spoken before the "fair harvest" in August, mentioned 
 by Stowe, had partly compensated for the previous floods). But this 
 by no means proves that the fairy Comedy could not have been ' 
 acted earlier without that description ; that it was so acted, although • 
 possible, is far from probable.^ 
 
 "The thrice-three Muses mourning for the death of Learning," | 
 etc., cannot have been an allusion to Spenser's "Tears of the Muses," 1 
 1 591; for, we are expressly told, "That is some Satire keene and 
 critical. Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony:" a description inap- . 
 plicable to the Spenserian complaint. Spenser's death was not until 
 January, 159I-. 
 
 The supposed imitation in "Doctor Dodypoll," 1600 — 
 
 ' In most cases this interpolation would be what is called the actor's "gag;" 
 but where the author happened to be in connection with the theatre, a share- 
 holder and performer, close at hand, he would himself occasionally add fresh 
 lines when deemed expedient. Thus Hamlet intended to insert "a speech of some 
 dozen or sixteen lines," in the Gonzago play. Some passage similarly dangerous 
 or seditious may have been interpolated in "Richard the Second," at the time of 
 Essex's ill-starred tumult in 1600, 
 
 ^ It need not be deemed conclusive against the supposition of Robert Greene 
 having been thus indicated, that his death (in September, 1592) was an event too 
 far back to be remembered by the audience. Greene had secured many admirers, 
 and, as J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps shows, his miserable death "was a subject of 
 general conversation for several years, and a reference to the circumstance, though 
 indistinctly expressed, would have been well understood in literary circles at the 
 time it is supposed the comedy was produced." (Privately-printed Memoranda 
 on the Midswmner Nighfs Dream, p. 20, 1879.) In confirmation of this state- 
 ment we must remember that even so late as 1598 Greene's name was still em- 
 ployed as a popular spell to enforce attention, for John Dickenson thus uses it in 
 more than the title of his Greene in Conceipt: new raised from the Graue to 
 write the Tragique Historie of faire Valeria of London." This novel was probably 
 of later date than the production of Shakespeare's comedy. It was reprinted in 
 1879 by Dr. Grosart, among his valuable " Occasional Issues." 
 
 B 
 
X 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " 'Twas I that lead you through the painted meades, 
 Where the Hght fairies daunst upon the flowers, 
 Hanging on every leafe an orient pearle," etc. — 
 
 is of doubtful value in reference to date ; although the comedy was 
 mentioned, by Nash, in 1596 : the language, moreover, maybe deemed 
 too loose and general to be cited as an imitation or parallel-passage.^ 
 
 § 5. Spenser's Faerie Queene, 1596. 
 
 A far more important clue is furnished by the ripe scholarship of 
 J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, in his valuable and most recent Memoranda 
 on the Midsummer Nighfs Dream, 1879. It is but fair to this 
 life-long student of Shakespearian literature to quote the passage 
 entire, the more especially as the Memoranda are privately printed 
 for a very limited circulation : — 
 
 "There seems to be a certainty that Shakespeare, in the composi- 
 tion of the Midsummer Nighf s Dream, had in one place a recollection 
 of the sixth book of The Faerie Qiieene, published in 1596, for he all 
 but literally quotes the following Hne from the eighth canto of that 
 book, — ''Through hils and dales, through hushes and through breres^ 
 {Faerie Queene, ed. 1596, p. 460.) As the Midsummer Nighfs 
 Dream was not printed until the year 1600, and it is impossible that 
 Spenser could have been present at any representation of the comedy 
 before he had written the sixth book of The Faerie Queene^ it may 
 fairly be concluded that Shakespeare's play was not composed at the 
 earliest before the year 1596, in fact, not until some time after 
 January the 20th, 1595-6, on which day the Second Part of The 
 Faerie Queene was entered on the books of the Stationers' Company. 
 The sixth book of that poem was probably written as early as 1592 
 or 1593, certainly in Ireland, and at some considerable time before 
 the month of November, 1594, the date of one entry of publication of 
 the Amoretti, in the eightieth sonnet of which it is distinctly alluded 
 
 ' To Puck the Fairy says (p. 12, lines 10, 11) : — 
 
 ' ' I must goe seeke some dew droppes here, 
 And hang a pearle in euery couslippes eare. " 
 
 So far as it proves anything, the resemblance in "Doctor Dodypoll" indicates that 
 
 Midsummer Night'' s Dream was not later than 1 596. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xi 
 
 to as having been completed previously to the composition of the 
 latter work." {Memoranda, pp. 6, 7.) 
 
 We admit the virtual identity of the passage quoted from Spenser, 
 with Puck's speech (our p. 12, line 2, Act ii. sc. i) : 
 
 " Ouer hill, ouer dale, thorough bush, thorough brier." 
 
 If we could feel it to be certain that the Spenserian Hne (written 
 before 1594) suggested the Shakespearian, the test would be de- 
 cisive : to us it indicates anew the date 1594- 
 
 Malone attributed the date of A Midsummer Nighfs Dream to 
 1594; Dr. Nathan Drake to 1593; Professor Delius to 1595; 
 Chalmers to 1598. Recently, attempts have been made to claim 
 so early a date as 1590-91 : which claim the present writer holds to 
 be inadmissible, and in opposition to external evidence.^ Fortu- 
 nately, the garrulity of Meres has determined the latest possible date 
 as being 1598. This leads us tolerably near to the real date: pro- 
 bably 1593-94, at earliest ; and not later than 1596.^ 
 
 § 6. Pyramus and Thisbie, 1584, etc. 
 
 No material help in regard to the date of the comedy is afforded 
 by consulting the possible sources of the Interlude. The story of the 
 two lovers had for several years been popular, not only in direct 
 translations of Ovid by Golding and others, but more especially in 
 " A new Sonet of Pyramus and Thisbie : to the Tune of The Downe- 
 right Squier," beginning, " You Dames (I say) that climbe the mount 
 
 ^ We omit consideration of what are called "verse-tests." At present, the 
 theories based on these are (in the opinion of scholars of established reputation, 
 with whom we hold agreement, ) often misleading. In passing, let it be remarked, 
 only, that the light-ending or weak-ending lines are almost wholly absent ; and so 
 are the run-on lines. The continuity of rhyme, in many lines repeated, is remark- 
 able in Titania's and Oberon's speeches, adding to their musical impressiveness. 
 
 ^ Two hitherto-unnoticed entries in the Stationers' Registers deserve attention, 
 as indicating some connection with A Midsummer Night's Dream. To Thomas 
 Creede (who published several of Shakespeare's plays, more or less irregularly) is 
 entered, on the 14th of May, 1594, "a booke intituled the Scottish story of JAMES 
 the FOURTHE, slayne at Flodden, intermixed with a plesant Comedie presented by 
 OBORON Kinge of Fayres.'^ Again (as probably helping to suggest by contrast- 
 the name of Shakespeare's own comedy, which must have been in his mind, if not 
 in great part written), to Edward White is entered, on the 22nd of May, 1594, "a 
 book entituled a Wynters nightes pastime.'''' (Cf. Transcript, ii. 648, 650.) 
 
xii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of Helicon." It is by I. Thomson, and contained in Clement Robin- 
 son's A Handefull of pleasant Delites ; containing sundrie new Sonets 
 and delectable Histories in diuers kindes of Meeter. 1584. Than this 
 there is scarcely a book of which clearer proof remains that it had 
 been seen and was used by Shakespeare. An earlier edition of it 
 was issued in 1565, but whether ^'Pyramus and Thisbie" be one of 
 "the new additions of certain Songs to vejie late deuised Notes," it 
 would be difficult to prove. In any case, the one extant edition (a 
 unique copy, and mutilated, sheet sign. B. vi. being defective,^) is of 
 too early a date to guide us, having been issued before Shakespeare 
 is beheved to have left Stratford.^ 
 
 § 7. North's Plutarch, 1579: Theseus. 
 
 Howard Staunton repudiates the theory which assigned the 
 groundwork of the fable to Chaucer's " Knight's Tale," declaring 
 that "there is scarcely any resemblance whatever between Chaucer's 
 
 ^ The present Editor was fortunate enough to discover and identify a fragment 
 (leaf D. 2) of the earlier edition in the Bagford Collection at the British Museum 
 (Case 39 K. vol. i. p. 83), hitherto unknown : and to print it in the Ballad 
 Society's Bagford Ballads, p. 43. In the Stationers' Registers is an entry to Rich, 
 lohnes of the very book, in 1564-5. The Shakespearian connection is indisputable. 
 {Ex. grat. sheet sign. A. ii. verso, " Rosemarie is for remembrance," and Fenel 
 is for flatterers : " compare Hamlet, Act iv.) In this respect it is noteworthy that 
 we find a silly blundefr (on sheet sign. C. ii.), "At last they promised to meet at 
 prime, by Minus well" {sic)\ which suggests the Ninnies tomb" of Flute, as 
 Thisbie of the Interlude. 
 
 ^ Long before Shakespeare's interlude, **a tedious briefe Scene of young 
 Pyramiis and his love Thisbye: very tragical mirth," there had been a similar 
 entertainment offered to the press, and probably also on the stage. For we find an 
 entry in the Stationers' Registers, at the beginning of the year between 22 July, 
 1567, and 22 July, 1568, " Recevyd of Rycharde Jonnes for his lycense for 
 pryntinge of a boke intituled yetragecall comodye of DAMONDE and PETHYAS 
 . . . iiij'*." (See Arber's Transcript, 1875, i. 354.) And the phrase tickled the 
 fancy of the public, for we find again, two years later, * ' Recevyd of John Aide for 
 his lycense for pryntinge of an enterlude a lamentable Tragedy full of pleasaunt 
 w,yrth . . . iiij*^." {Ibid. i. 400, for 22 July, 1569, to 22 July, 1570.) We are not 
 aware that these entries have been hitherto cited in illustration. It may also here 
 be noted that, near the same time, when he had been writing or meditating A Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream, Shakespeare himself introduced an allusion into The Mer- 
 chant of Venice (but see J. W. E. 's forthcoming Introduction to it), act v. sc. I : — 
 
 ** In such a night 
 Did Thisbie fearfully o'ertrip the dew. 
 And saw the Lion's shadow ere himself, 
 And ran dismay'd away." 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 tale and Shakespeare's play, beyond that of the scene in both being 
 laid at the Court of Theseus." He admits that the character of " the 
 Duke" is founded on the account in North's Translation of Plutarch;^ 
 but he somewhat exaggerates in declaring that, "beyond one or two 
 passing allusions, there is no attempt to individualize either the man 
 or the country." As to the country we may concede the point, for the 
 haunted wood more resembles the Wier-Brake of Warwickshire than 
 any grove near Athens. Local colouring was unthought of, so long 
 as events and characters were found interesting. But in the stately 
 dignity of Theseus, with his large-hearted acceptance of the efforts 
 made to please him, and the half-expressed repugnance to unreal 
 sentiment or rhapsody, such as befitted a man of action and success 
 in war,^ we recognize his individuality. The delineation of Theseus, 
 as a piece of art, is complete in its strength and beauty ; although it 
 is almost overlooked in any popular estimate of the wonderful fairy 
 mythology. The lore of pedants^ could never have given to us this 
 heroic figure — one whose every word still recalls, like the analogous 
 sculpture by Phidias, that period of Grecian antiquity when gods 
 walked the earth with man as with a friend. The nobility of Theseus 
 is of a kind that none but a truly great mind could have conceived : it 
 is nobility in repose. We have no opportunity of seeing him in his 
 
 ^ For which see Reeves and Turner's excellent Shakespeari s Library, second 
 edition (being enlarged from J. P. Colher's, of 1841), 1875, vol. i. pp. 7 to 71. 
 The full title of North's translation is, The Lives of the noble Grecians and 
 Romanes, compared together by that graue learned Philosopher and IListoriographer, 
 Plutarke of Chaeronea. ... By Thomas North. Imprinted at London by Thomas 
 Vautroullier, dwelling in the Black Friers by Ludgate. 1579. In folio, 595 leaves. 
 From this work certain names were directly borrowed for A Midstinwier Night'' s 
 Dream, particularly, I, yEgles (from pp. 28, 41) ; 2, Ferigotma, the daughter of 
 Sinnis (p. 15) ; 3, Algeus, father of Theseus. These we find in the present 
 Fisher's Quarto, printed or misprinted, as, I, Eagles (intended for ALgle, which, 
 moreover, ought to have been italicized, on p. 14, line 75) ; 2, PerigeHia (on same 
 page, line 74) ; and, 3, a different Egeus (Acts i. and v. ). There are also Antiopa, 
 Hyppolita (in 'North, as the same person : but in Shakespeare as distinct women), 
 etc. The preceding offer a stronger clue. 
 
 ^ Compare Julius Ccesar, Act iv., sc. 3 : " What should the wars do with these 
 jigging fools?" 
 
 ^ We have little need to disturb ourselves concerning anachronisms and in- 
 congruities, although we find Athenian Theseus declare " Saint Valentine is past " 
 (p. 47) ; and Titania accuse Oberon of having been disguised as Corin, conversing 
 "love to amorous Phillida." Dido, "the Carthage Queen," and ^neas (p. 7) 
 belong to a later date than Theseus, whom Chaucer also had called a "Duke." 
 These are trifles. 
 
xiv 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 early enterprises as a redressor of wrongs and seeker after adventures. 
 Although he tells his queen, 
 
 " Hippolita, I wooed thee with my sword, 
 And won thy love, doing thee injury," 
 
 the struggle with her Amazons is ended before he appears in view ; 
 his battle with the Centaurs is only incidentally referred to (p. 52), 
 "in glory of my kinsman Hercules." There is no rebellious strife 
 in the Athenian city to demand display of energy. Yet we feel, in 
 his every word and movement, that here is indeed a man " equal to 
 either fortune : " one whom prosperity cannot dazzle, or adversity 
 humiliate and sour. Noteworthy is it how thoroughly Shakespeare 
 portrays such heroes as this (and no dramatist can rise to lofty 
 heights unless there be in himself true dignity) — the majestic grace of 
 his speech, the genial warmth of sympathy with inferiors, entering 
 without ostentation into their feelings, receiving their lame endeavours 
 with kindly humour, and thus making complete what they imperfectly 
 perform : 
 
 " And what poor duty cannot do 
 
 Noble respect takes it in might, not merit." 
 
 He is unwilling to disappoint these 
 
 " hard-handed men that work in Athens here. 
 Who never laboured in their minds till now. 
 And now have toiled their unbreath'd memories 
 With this same play against his nuptials." 
 
 This acceptance is evidently from consideration for " their intents, 
 extremely stretch'd, and conned with cruel pain to do him service," 
 since he answers — 
 
 " I will hear this play. 
 For never any thing can be amiss 
 When simpleness and duty tender it." 
 
 Again, afterwards, in reply to Hippolita's complaint that the dramatic 
 interlude is "the silliest stuff" she ever heard, he reminds her — 
 as an apology for any such shortcomings — "The best in this kind are 
 but shadows : and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XV 
 
 them."* But with all this willingness to accept such a "palpable 
 gross play," his more keen delight is in the stirring chase, with his 
 Amazonian bride, and his hounds that "are bred out of the Spartan 
 kind : Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, each under 
 each; a cry more tuneable was never halloed to, nor cheer'd with 
 horn in Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly." And this not only from 
 love for the chase itself, but also to ascend 
 
 "The mountain's top, 
 And mark the musical confusion 
 Of hounds and echo in conjunction." 
 
 From him we gain that most lovely contrast between the wedded wife 
 and Diana's chaste votary, 
 
 " In shady cloister mew'd. 
 To live a barren Sister all her life, 
 Chaunting 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." ^ 
 
 From Theseus also comes the magnificent passage, as philosophi- 
 cally exact as it is poetically beautiful, descriptive of Imagination ; 
 gaining additional value from the position which it occupies, and 
 from the character of him who utters it. 
 
 Even here, elevated to a throne, unchallenged in dignity, victor in 
 struggles that were soon to be accounted mythical ; after all the vast 
 experience of his youth, familiarized by converse with beings of super- 
 human might and loveliness, Theseus appears not to be conscious of 
 his own superiority to ordinary men, or that near to him are working 
 
 ^ It will not be without service to contrast the unkind mockery and persistent 
 humiliation of the actors who personate the Nine Worthies in Love's Labour's 
 Lost — probably an earlier play — with the raillery that greets the far more ridicu- 
 lous exhibition of Pyramus and Thisbie. Well may Holofernes make remon- 
 strance : " This is not generous ; not gentle ; not humble." 
 
 ^ A picture elaborated, later, in the Isabella of Measure for Measure. As 
 with Sir Walter Scott's Catherine, The Fair Maid of Perth, the intention of the 
 author had probably been to preserve the virginal chastity of the heroine un- 
 blemished until death. In either case, her marriage is a concession made to 
 popular prejudice, weakening the force of the character, and thus injurious. 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 unseen those spiritual agencies that influence mankind. His poetry 
 of thought and of expression is but the common air that he breathes. 
 To him there is forgetfulness of mere self, his deeds appearing nowise 
 marvellous to one who, from an inner world, surveys the outer sphere 
 of action. Despite all that he has seen, he is no Visionary. Like 
 a commentary on the whole drama of this Midsummer Nighfs 
 Dream, and on the creative power of Shakespeare's own imagination, 
 as beheld and restrained by practical wisdom, flow his words : — 
 
 " / 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 phrensy 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 shape, and gives to airy nothing 
 A local habitation and a name." 
 
 § 8. The Fairies : Oberon and Titania. 
 
 Although into the stately presence of Theseus the fairies enter not, 
 
 visibly, they love and revere him ; as they mention during the quarrel 
 
 between Oberon and Titania : thus their latest employment is to 
 
 hallow his nuptial dwelling. Over the more youthful pairs of lovers 
 
 their spells are potent, at first to perplex, and afterwards to reunite 
 
 them. But it is upon the clowns — the men described as 
 
 " A crew of Patches, rude mechanicals, 
 That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, 
 Who meet together to rehearse a play 
 Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day " — 
 
 that the elvish Puck, that lob of spirits,^ most freely exercises his mis- 
 
 * " Farewell, thou Lobbe of spirits." (P. 12.) 
 "Then lies him down, the Lubber-fiend."— Milton's V Allegro, no. 
 " Lob lye-by-the-fire." — Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act iii. sc. I. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XVll 
 
 chievous mirth. He confesses his belief, " What fools these mortals 
 be !" The gambols of these tiny ministrants may well be regarded 
 as the most perfect poem of its class that has ever appeared/ The 
 lyrical melodiousness, and the profusion of floral or starry imagery 
 never grow wearisome. They yield a clear, although a glowing reve- 
 lation of the fairies' temperament. We see their sportive jealousies 
 and fantastic vengeances ; their gatherings on "the beached margent 
 of the sea, to dance their ringlets to the whistHng winds;" their 
 drowsiness on banks of thyme, " o'er-canopied with sweet musk-roses 
 and with eglantine ; " their whimsical horror of intrusion from thorny 
 hedgehogs, newts and blind-worms, spiders, snails, and beetles; 
 their love of " music that brings sleep," and of the moonlit glades ; 
 their restless obligation to " trip after the moon's shade," " following 
 darkness as a dream." We see the rollicking mirthfulness of Robin 
 Goodfellow, to whom "things most pleasant be that befal prepos- 
 terously."^ 
 
 Amid this revelling in fancy there is a poetical completeness far 
 beyond the requirements of any stage-effect. In our own time, at 
 theatres, we may find the dramatic illusion heightened with set 
 scenes, coloured lights and transparencies, the witcheries of graceful 
 • forms, fantastic costumes; and the loveliest melodies of Mendelssohn's 
 
 ^ Malone and, recently, J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps and W. C. Hazlitt, have 
 shown that Michael Drayton's Nymphidia cannot be regarded as having in any 
 way suggested the drama ; for the Nymphidia was not only never printed until 
 1627, but is indicated as having been among the later, poems of its author. See 
 Malone's Shakespeare, edition 1 82 1, v. 206; the Percy Society Illustrations of 
 Fairy Mythology, 1845 ; and Reeves and Turner's Fairy Tales illustrating Shake- 
 speaj'e, 1875, p. 239, where the Nymphidia is reprinted complete. Also, the 
 Robin Goodfellow ballad, attributed by Peck to Ben Jonson, "From Oberon, in 
 fairyland," Roxb. Coll., i. 230 ; or Roxburghe Ballads, ii. 81. 
 
 2 Commend we to the notice of all students a suggestive little volume on 
 Shakespeare' s Puck, and his Folkslore, illustrated from the Superstitions of All 
 Nations:" By William Bell, Phil. Doct., 1852. In a forthcoming volume of the 
 Ballad Society's reprint, The Roxburghe Ballads, the curious woodcuts of Robin 
 Goodfellow will be given in facsimile to Roxb. Coll., ii. 145. Professor Daniel 
 Wilson's Caliban: the Missing Link, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, 1 873, is 
 one of the most valuable contributions to Shakespearian criticism. The name of 
 Oberon, " the dwarfe king of fayryes," had already been made a household word 
 by having appeared in the popular romance of Biio/i of Bourdeaux, a translation 
 of which, by Lord Berners, had appeared about 1558. Oberon is guessed to be 
 simply an adaptation of the original Elberich, or Albrich. The name Titania was 
 borrowed from one of the synonymes of Diana, to whom it is applied by Ovid. 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 genius, to enhance the charm. But beyond all these additional 
 adornments, giving pleasure to the eye and to the ear, remain un- 
 approachable for realization that minuteness, that almost intangible 
 evanescence, which belong to the fairy people of Shakespeare. Puck 
 is native to our own folks-lore, although trace of him is found else- 
 where. But Shakespeare, by several allusions, had carefully prepared 
 us for welcoming the tiny monarchs as visitors from distant regions. 
 Oberon has newly " Come from the farthest steppe of Indta,^^ and 
 Titania's favourite little changeling, the cause of strife, has been 
 brought from his mother's land, where she had gossipt " in the spiced 
 Indian air by night." These words, like Puck's boast, "I'll put a girdle 
 round about the earth in forty minutes," or " I go, I go, swifter than 
 arrow from the Tartar's bow," increase the impression of their swift 
 travel and wide experiences; for although wanderers and foreign 
 visitants, they are at home in every land, here as elsewhere. Thus 
 the well-understood description of Queen EHzabeth,^ " the imperiall 
 Votress," ''a fair Vestal, throned in the JVest,'^ whom "young Cupid's 
 fiery shaft" could not transpierce (p. i6), would inevitably bring back 
 to the audience the remembrance that they were supposed to be 
 at a distance from the England of their own time. Beyond these 
 hints of remoteness, and a few antique names, disguise was scarcely • 
 attempted, to present the Athens of two thousand years ago. 
 
 § 9. The "Crew of Patches:" "Bottom's Dream." 
 
 From the first, no doubt, the world welcomed the genuine humour 
 of contrasting and intermingling with the fairy sprites these " hempen 
 home-spuns " Peter Quince, the carpenter, manager, and Prologizer ; 
 Flute, the bellows-mender, who plays Thisbe, although he has a beard 
 
 ^ We attach no weight whatever to Warburton's supposition that by the " Mer- 
 maid on a Dolphin's back " Shakespeare glanced at Elizabeth's rival, Mary Queen 
 of Scots. She was judicially murdered in 1587, and we may be sure that if the 
 poet could have possibly descended to insult her, long after death, the attack would 
 have been made as self-evident as was the flattering tribute to Elizabeth. It is 
 one of the idle crotchets of those who are incapable of understanding true poetry. 
 Thus attempts have been made to identify every character in Hamlet as portraits 
 of Sir Philip Sidney, Essex, &c. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xix 
 
 coming, but may do it in a mask ; Starveling, a tailor of melancholy 
 anticipations, who loses temper when gibed at as the " Man in the 
 Moon;" Snug, the joiner, who is slow of study, and methodical in all 
 that he does or asks — an orderly man, and well to be depended on in 
 other matters than the Lion's part, " which is nothing but roaring ; " 
 Snout, the tinker, who enacts Wall in public, and is generally content 
 to chime in with suggestions of others, being unobtrusive by nature 
 in private life. But in all circles is Bully Bottom the favourite/ 
 Being a weaver by trade, thence comes his dictatorial habit ; for your 
 weaver is a contemplative man, a politician, and abstruse inquirer : 
 he thinks much at his loom, as though it were that of Destiny, and, 
 when he emerges from the stronghold of his treddles, he sometimes 
 forgets that the sequences of his deductions and dogmas are not so 
 logical as they had appeared. He is indisposed to remain hidden in 
 the background. He likes to play first fiddle in all societies, does 
 Bottom : he would willingly perform the Lover and the Tyrant ; also 
 Thisbe and the Lion. When his time comes, he will summon Pease- 
 blossom as authoritatively as he had ordered his Athenian comrades y 
 and will volunteer a special answer, in contradiction of Theseus him- 
 self, concerning Thisbe's cue, and, again, regarding the Epilogue. 
 Bottom is self-consistent throughout. In him is exemplified the great 
 truth that no fairyland enchantment of dreams, or love itself, can 
 alter the inherent nature of a full-grown man (as Fielding declared 
 concerning drunkenness, in Tom Jones); at most it intensifies, and 
 develops what was latent. He is equally full of ignorant assumption 
 
 ^ It is worth noting, as it proves the continued popularity of Bully Bottom 
 among readers and old theatre-lovers, that during the Cromwellian interregnum, 
 vi^hilst all stage- plays were prohibited, Francis Kirkman and Robert Cox main- 
 tained the performance of ''The merry conceited Humors of Bottom the Weaver ; 
 as it hath been often publikely acted by some of his Majesties Comedians, and 
 lately privately presented by several apprentices for their harmless recreation, with 
 great applause." This was printed in 1661 ; reprinted in Kirkman's " 77z<? f4^its : 
 or, Sport upon Sport. In Selected Pieces of DROLLERY. 2nd Part. 1672." With 
 Frontispiece, representing the Red Bull during performance of sundry Drolls. 
 We need attach little weight to the opinion of Samuel Pepys, 29th September, 
 1662, that the Midsummer Night's Drtam appeared to him "the most insipid 
 ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life" [Diary, best edition, 1876, ii. 51); 
 for the Secretary's critical judgment does him little credit in regard to poetry. 
 What Hamlet says of Polonius (falsely, it appears,) is tolerably true of Pepys : 
 "He's for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps." 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 when Titania proffers music or affection, as he had been in his self- 
 estimates of ability before his transformation. Had he not really- 
 been the shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort," we might have 
 cherished the idea of his career becoming thereafter dignified by a 
 remembrance of the fairy realm into which he, and he alone, had 
 been for awhile admitted ; ^ especially as we have, in our own posses- 
 sion, the original Greek ballad which Peter Quince was to have 
 written thereon. But the memory of his Ass's ears was the only 
 perennial bequest of his Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 §10. Conclusion : The Three-fold Plot. 
 
 Simple though it appears, when acted, the interweaving of the three- 
 fold plot might have tasked the ingenuity of any playwright. The 
 fairies were to be kept quite distinct from influencing Theseus, his 
 Amazonian bride, and their Court ; yet it was specially to grace the 
 nuptials that Oberon had journeyed so far, and the fairy benediction 
 on the wedding-couch concludes the action of the play. The en- 
 tanglements and misconceptions of the two pairs of lovers were to be 
 caused by Puck and his enchantments of the magic juice ; yet after 
 all errors are happily dispersed, and the four friends made happy, — 
 
 " When they next wake, all this derision 
 
 Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision : " (p. 41.) 
 
 ... "And think no more of this night's accidents. 
 But as the fierce vexation of a dream." (p. 45.) 
 
 Even thus it befalls. At" first they believe "That yet we sleep, we 
 dream and afterwards declare, Let's follow him; And by the way, 
 let us recount our dreams." Lastly, of the Athenian clowns, the 
 handicraftsmen, none behold the fairy crew save only Bottom, the 
 connecting-link, since fate will have it so, between the mortals and 
 
 ^ But see, in exemplification of this, Allan Park Paton's Web of Life, 1858, 
 p. 261. The transformation is poetically conceived, and skilfully detailed; yet, 
 after all, it is merely of modern false sentiment, opposed to the steadfastness of 
 character that is shown by Shakespeare. We cannot gather figs from thistles : 
 Bottom remains Bottom. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxi 
 
 the ethereal company. Even while undergoing the enchantment he 
 had confounded his own identity: he had longed for dry oats, a 
 peck of provender, a handful or two of dried peas, a pottle of hay, 
 " good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow ! " His long ears tickle him : 
 " I must to the barber's ; for methinks I am marvellous hairy about 
 the face." But when he awakes he feels, " I have had a most rare 
 vision. I have had a dream ! " 
 
 No one need puzzle over the confused chronology of the drama. 
 The action includes only three days and nights, dramatically; although 
 we are told of four days to intervene between opening words and 
 nuptial hour.^ In the old drama, without change of scene, without 
 a marked distinction of the Acts (such as we now recognize, both in 
 printed books and at our theatres), there was seldom, if ever, a re- 
 membrance forced on the spectator of exact length of time. It was 
 deemed sufficient if some conception arose of an extended duration 
 — much beyond the real flight of minutes. For this the poet gave 
 his hint. He found his audience apt, and far too wise to spoil enjoy- 
 ment by labouring to detect his art. On the contrary, as Wordsworth 
 writes, " We murder to dissect." As Bully Bottom says, 
 
 " Man is but an ass, if he will go about to expound this dream." 
 
 Mr. J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps declares : ^ " What is absurdly termed 
 aesthetic criticism is more out of place on this comedy than perhaps 
 on any other of Shakespeare's plays. It deadens the ' native wood- 
 notes wild,' that every reader of taste would desire to be left to their 
 own influences. The Midsummer NighVs Dream is too exquisite a 
 composition to be dulled by the infliction of philosophical analysis." 
 
 ^ The flight of the lovers, and the rehearsal of the Interlude, take place on the 
 night of the second day: the three weddings fall on the next night, " Tomorrow 
 midnight." Thus we have (Act i.) part of a first day; (Acts ii., iii., iv.) the 
 night of a second day ; running on into (Act v.) the morning, noon, and night of a 
 third day. 
 
 ^ That J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps did not intend by his words to deprecate all 
 explanatory or introductory remarks on A Midsummer Night's Dream is proved 
 conclusively by his own excellent labours (beyond those of all other men, in this 
 department,) connected with the Fairy Mythology. At best, it is a thankless 
 office to write Introductions, so long as they are exposed to captious and malicious 
 criticism, from those who are intolerant of all opinions except their own. 
 
xxii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 {Memoranda^ p. 13.) Nevertheless, we criticize, for this our age is per- 
 verted from simple tastes, and not only demands the "finger-post 
 criticism," but listens to the perverse misdirection of so-called scien- 
 tific anatomists. We accept thankfully the glowing summary : "Of 
 the lyric or the prosaic part, the counterchange of loves and laughters, 
 of fancy fine as air and imagination high as heaven, what need can 
 there be for any one to shame himself by the helpless attempt to say 
 one word not utterly unworthy ? " We trust that blame attaches not 
 to those among us who dare speak at all on the subject, whilst admit- 
 ting that no pen can fitly celebrate the inexhaustible beauties of A 
 Midsummer Nighfs Dream. 
 
 J. Wood FALL Ebsworth. 
 
 MoLASH Vicarage, 
 
 BY ASHFORD, KeNTo. 
 
PERSONS REPRESENTED. 
 
 [The two Quarto editions and the four Folio editions have no list of characters. 
 Rowe first added one, in 1709.] 
 
 Theseus, Z>?//^^ (t/" Athens. 
 
 Egeus, an Athenian Loi-d^ Father of Hermia. 
 
 dImetrto's, } ""''^ 
 Philostrate, Master of the Revels to Theseus. 
 Quince, a Carpenter ; 
 Snug, a Joiner; 
 Bottom, a Weaver ; 
 Flute, a Bellows-mender , 
 Snout, a Tinker ; 
 Starveling, a Tailor ; 
 
 HipPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus. 
 Hermia, daughter of Egeus, in love with Lysander. 
 Helena, in love with Demetrius. 
 
 - Artizans of Athens. 
 
 Oberon, King of the Fairies. 
 Titania, Queen of the Fairies. 
 Puck, or Robin-Goodfellow, a Fairy, 
 Peas-blossom, 
 
 Cobweb, 
 Moth, 
 
 Mustard-seed, 
 
 h Fairies. 
 
 Characters in the Interlude, performed by the Clowns. 
 
 Pyramus, 
 Thisbe, 
 Wall, 
 Moonshine, 
 Lion, 
 
 Other Fairies attendant on Oberon and Titania. 
 
 Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta. 
 
 Scene varies, from the Palace of Theseus at Athens, and Quince's 
 house, to a Wood in the neighbourhood. 
 
A 
 
 Midfommer nights 
 dreame. 
 
 Asit hath becne fiindry times pub- 
 Uc^ly aBed, hjthe'K^ht honour a-' 
 ble , the Lord Chamberlaine his 
 femmts. 
 
 Writ fen by WtUiamShal^^eare, 
 
 ^Impiij«ed« London, iorThomas Blher, sndare to 
 DC isuidc it is (hoppe,at the Signe of theWhite HatCj 
 in fketefimte, 1600. 
 
MIDSOMMER NIGHTS 
 
 DREAME. 
 
 Eftter Thefcus,Hippolita, with others* 
 The fens. 
 
 Ow faire H/fpoliUy our nuptiall hower 
 Draws on apafe : fowcr happy daks bring in 
 An other Moone; but oh,me thinks.how flow 
 This old Moone wauesiShe lingers my defires. 
 Like to aStepdame,or a dowager. 
 Long withering out a yong mans reuenewe* 
 Mrf^.Fower dales will quickly ftcepe themfeluesin night: 
 Fowcr nights will quickly dreame away the lime: 
 And then the Moone, like to a (iluerbowe, 
 Nowbcni inheauen,fliallbcholdethe night 
 Ofourfolemnities* 
 
 rhe.Goe Philofirate, 
 Siirrc vp the Athenian youth to merriments. 
 Awake the peart and nimble fpirit of mirth, 
 Turne melancholy foorth tofiinerals; 
 Th e pale companion is not for our pomp. 
 HypPolita^ I woo'd thee with my fword, 
 Andwonnethyloue,doingtheeiniuries: 
 
 But I will wed thee inanotherkey. 
 
 With pompe,with triumph, and withtcuelmg. 
 
 E»ter Egtvis and hi^ daughter Hcrmia^<i«rf Lyfandcr 
 4w^Helena,WDemctrius. 
 Ejrtf,Happybe7Tf»^yr/»,our renowned duke, 
 xLThankcsgood %^w,Whatsthc newes wuh thee 
 JSf^*FuUofvcxation,comeI , withcomplaint 
 
Againllmy childe,my daughter Herm/a, 
 
 Stand forth Dmetrius. 
 My noble Lord^ 
 
 This man haih ray confcnt to marry her* 
 
 Sundfhrth Lifander, 
 And my gratiousDukc, 
 
 This m an hath bewitch: thebofome of my childc. 
 Thou^thouZj^j/Swi^^ thou haft giuen her rimes. 
 And interchanged Jouc tokens with my childe: 
 Thou haft, by moone-lightjat her windowe fung, 
 With faining voice, vcrfes of faming loue. 
 And ftolnetheimoreffion of hcrphantafic: 
 With braceletsot ihy haire,rings,gawdes, conceites, 
 Knackes, trifles, nofcgaics/wccce meatesi^meflengcrs 
 Of ftrongpreuailemem in vnhardenedyouth) 
 With cunning haft thou filch t my daughters heart, 
 Turnd her obcdicnce(which is due to mee ) 
 To ftubborne harfhnefle . And, my gratious Duke 
 Beitfo, (he will noc here,beforey our Grace, 
 Confcntto marry with Demetrtus, 
 Ibcgihe auncient priuiledgeof^//&w.- 
 As (he is mine, I may difpofe of her: 
 Which fhall be, either to this gcndeman. 
 Or to her death .'according to our lawe, 
 Immediatly prouidcd,in that cafe, 
 
 The^ Whatfay you,fffrjww2Be aduiPd,fairemaid. 
 To you,your father fliould be as a God: 
 One that compofti your beauties : yea and one, 
 TO whomeyou are but as aformc in wax. 
 By him imprinted, and within his power. 
 To leaue the figure, or disfigurcit: 
 Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. 
 
 mr. So IS Lifmder. jhe^ In himfelfe he is; 
 
 But in thisjiinde , wanting your fathers voice, 
 Theotherrauftbehcld the worthier. 
 
A Midfommcrnightesdfreatne. 
 
 JJer^ I would my father lookt but with my eyes. 
 TT&^.Rather your eyes muft, with his iudgemcnt, lookcj 
 Her. I doc intreat your grace, to pardon mce« 
 I know not by what power, lam madcbould; 
 Norhowitmay conccrncmy modefty. 
 In fuch a prcfence, here to plead my thoughts: 
 But 1 bcfcech your Grace, that 1 may knowc 
 The worft that may befall mce in this cafe. 
 If I refufc to wed Demetrius. 
 
 The, Either to dy the death, or to absure. 
 For euer, the fociety of men. 
 Thcrefore,fairc JRr<fr/w/4i,queftion your defires, 
 Kjiowc ofy our youth, examine well your blood, 
 Whether(ifyou yeclde not to your fathers choycc) 
 You can endure the Uucry of aNunne, 
 For aye to be inftiady cloyflcr, mew*d 
 To Hue a barraine fiftcr all your life, 
 Chaunting faint hymnes,tothccoldcfruitle(feMoonCi 
 Thrife blefled they, that mafter fo there bloode. 
 To vndcrgoe fuch maiden pilgrimage: 
 But earthlycr happy is the rofe diftildj 
 Then that, which, witheringon the virgin thornc, 
 Growes,Uues,and dies, in finglc blefledncffe. 
 
 Her, So will I growe,fo liue,fo die my Lord* 
 Ere I yield my virgin Patent, vp 
 Vnto bis Lordfhippe, whofc vnwifhcd yoake 
 My foule confents not to giue fouerainty. 
 
 The^ xaketime topawfc,and by the ncxtnewemoonei 
 ihc fcaling d ay,bet wixt my loue and mce. 
 For euerlading bond of fellowfhtppe, 
 Vpon that day either prepare to dye. 
 For difobedience to your fathers will> 
 Or elfe to vfcdDemetriHs^zs he would^ 
 Or on i>/4»^x altar to proteft. 
 For ay e^aufieritie and ungle life* 
 
.---^ - 
 
 7)eme. Relcnt/weetc Herm/a^ zndi^Lyptfuier, yecld 
 Thy crazed title to my certainc right* 
 
 Lyf, You haue her fathers loue, Demetrimx 
 L et me hauc Hernias : doe you marry him, 
 
 tgew^ Scornefull Lyfaftder^ttuc^ht hath my loue: 
 And what is mine^ my loue (hall render him* 
 And flic is mine^jand all my right of her 
 J doe eflate ynto Demetrttu^ 
 
 Lyfand^ I am my Lord, as well deriu'd as hee^ 
 As wellpoffcft : my loue is more than his: 
 My fortunes eucry way as faircly rankt 
 iflf not with vantage ^as Demetrm : 
 And(which is more then allthefe boaftes can be) 
 I am belou'd of beautious Hermia, 
 Why fliould notl then profecute my right' 
 JDemettifu^Xt auouch it to his heade. 
 Made loue to Nedars daughtcr,f/<f/p«<c, 
 And won herfoulc : and llie^fwcctc Ladie^dotes, 
 Deuoutlydotes^ dotes in Idolatry^ 
 Vpon this /potted and inconftant man. 
 
 *the^ 1 mufl confcfTe, that I hauc heard fo much; 
 And, with Demeiriusy thought to haue fpoke thereof; 
 Bur, being oucrfull of felfe affaires. 
 My mindc did loofeit^ But D^w^mW come. 
 And come Egeus^yow ftall goe with mce: 
 I haue fome priuatc fchooling foryou both* 
 Foryou/aite Hermia^ lookc you armcyour felfe. 
 To fit your fancies, to yourfathers will^ 
 Orclic.the Lawof^//j>^»/yceldsyouvp 
 (Which by nomcancs we may extenuate) 
 To death,orto avoweoffinglelifet 
 Come my Hyffolita ; what chcare my loue? 
 Demetrius and Egeu^ goe along; 
 I mud employ you in fonoe buancflc, 
 Again() our nuptiall^and conferre with you 
 
A Midlbmmer nightes dreame. 
 
 Of fomc thing, ncrely thatconccrnesyourrelues, 
 Ege, With duecy and dcrire,we follow you» Sxeunt^ 
 LjffandMovv now my loucf Why is your cheekc fo pale? 
 HOW chance the rofcs there doe fade fo faft? 
 
 Her^ Bclike/or want of raine .* which I could wcU 
 Beteeme them ^fr ora the tempcft of my eyes* 
 
 £r/yiEigh me ;for aught that I could eucrreade. 
 Could cuer here by tale or hiftory. 
 The courfe of true loue neuer did runne fmoothe; 
 But either it was different inbloud; 
 Her, O croffe/too high to be inthrald to loue* 
 Lif^ OreiremifgrafFed,inrefpedofycares; 
 Her^ O fpight/too oldc to be ingag*d toyoung, 
 Lif, Or elfe, it ftoode vpon the choyce of friends^ 
 Her^ O heil^to choofe loue by anothe rsey esl 
 Lyf^ Or, if there were a fympathy in choyce^ 
 Warre,dcath or ficknefTe, didlay fiegetoitj 
 Waking it momentany,as a found, 
 S wift^as a fliadowe; ftiort,as any dreamc; 
 Briefe,asthelightningin the collied night<| 
 That(^in a fpleene)vnrolds both hcauen and earthj 
 And.ere a man hath power to fay, beholde^ 
 The iawes of d arkenefle do deuoure it vp: 
 So qui eke bright thingscomeioconfufion. 
 
 Her^ If then true louers hauc bineucr croft. 
 It flands as an edi^l, in dcftiny: 
 Then let vs teach our triallpaticneej 
 Becaufe it is a cuftomary crofFe, 
 AS de we toloue, as rhoughts^and drean)es,and iighes^« 
 Wiflies, and tearcs; poore Fancies followers, 
 Lyf^a good perfwafion ;thereforeheare m^c,Ucm$a: 
 Ihaue a widowe aunt ^ a dowager. 
 Of great reuene w, and fhehath no childe*. 
 From Athemis her houfercmote/eaucn leagues; 
 Andihcrefpe6les mee.ashcronlyfonnc: ^ 
 
 A4 There, 
 
AMiciiomnicr nigmes ateaffle. 
 
 Tbere,gcntlc Hernia jcswj I matry thee; 
 /^dto chat place, the (harpe AthenianXv^ 
 Cannotpurfue vs.If thouloueft mee^then 
 Stcaleforth thy fathcrshoufcjto morrow night: 
 Andinthe wood, a league without the townc 
 
 ?Vhere I did meete thee once with Helena 
 o do obferuance to a morue of May) 
 There will I ftay for thee^ 
 H^f.My good Lyfander, 
 1 fweare to thce,by C»/>i^i^ ftrongcft bowe. 
 By hisbeftarrowe, with the golden heade. 
 By the (implicitie ofreftusdoucs. 
 By that which knitteth foulcs, and prolpersloucs. 
 And by that fire which burnd the furihage queene^ 
 When thefalfe TroMn vnder faile wasfecne. 
 By all the vowes that euer men haue broke^ 
 (In number moire then cuer women fpokc) 
 In that fame place thou had appointed mee^ 
 To morrow truely will I meete with thee, 
 L^f, Kecpepromifeloue:looke,herc comesHefefia^ 
 
 £»/^rHelena. 
 Si<?r» God fpcede faire Helem : whither away? 
 HeL Callyou mec faire? That faire againe vnfay; 
 jP^x«fi^rf»;^loues your faire : 6 happy faiie/ 
 Your cyesarcloadilarres^ and your tonguesfweete aire 
 More tunable then larke^ to fheepeheardscare^ 
 When wheat is greene,when hauthorne buddes a ppeare. 
 Sicknefle is catching : O, were fauour fo. 
 Your wordsl catch, faire Hermia^ ere Igoe, 
 My eare Should catch your voice,my cye^your eye. 
 My tongue ftiould catch your tongues fwcete melody. 
 Were the world mimyDemetrius being bated. 
 The ref! iie giue to be to you tranflaied . 
 Oj, teachnice how you looke, and with what Art, 
 You fvvay the modon otDemetrm heart ^ 
 
AMidrommcr nightcs drcame, 
 
 H<fr. I frovvnc vpon him;yct hcc loucs mcc flilL 
 ffehO that your frowns would teach my fmiks fuch skiL 
 Hir,\ giuehim curfes;ycthc giues mcc loue. 
 HeL O that my prayers could fuch affcdlion moouc, 
 H<fr. The more 1 hate,thc more he Followcsmcc* 
 Hel, The morel loue^thc more he hatcth mcc* 
 /fj-r. His folly^fsTip/tf^^jis no fault of mine. 
 Hel. None but yourbcaucyjwould that fault were minc» 
 J/(?r,Take comfort : he no more fhall fee my face; 
 Lyfander and my felfc will fly this place. 
 Before the time I did L//a»aer{ce^ 
 Seem*d Athens as a Paradife to mee. 
 O then,what graces in my loue dooe dwell. 
 That hee hath turnd a heaucn vnto a hell/ 
 
 Lyf, Helen^ioyon our mindeswee will vnfould: 
 To morrow night^when^P^ce^^dothbeholdc 
 Hcrfiiuervif3ge,inthe watty glaflc 3 
 Decking, with liquid peatle, thebladed gratTe 
 (K time,that louers flights doth Hill conceale) 
 Through Athens gates^haue wee deuirdto ftealc. 
 
 Her.hnd, in the wood, where often you and I, 
 Vpon faint Primrofc beddes^ were wont tolyc. 
 Emptying our boforacs,of their counfcll fweld^ 
 There my Lyfunder^znd my felfc fliall mccce. 
 And thenccjfrom Athens yimnt away our eycs^ 
 To fecke new friends and ihangc companions* 
 Farcwelljfwcete playfellow : pray thou forvst 
 And good lucke graunt thee thy Demetrim. 
 Keepe word Lyfanderxyit muft flaruc outfight, 
 from louers foode,till morrow deepc midnight. 
 Exit Hcrmia, 
 Lyfl will my Hermia^ Helena adieur 
 As you on him,2>^^/r/^ dote on you, Exit Lyfandcr. 
 
 HeU. How happie fomc^orc otherfomc, can be/ 
 Through Athens^ I am thought as fairc as ftxcc. 
 
 A But 
 
A Midfommcr nightesdrcame. 
 
 But whatof that?D^w»w/iiithinkcs notfo; 
 He will not knowc^what all^buc hcc doc know. 
 And as hee crrcs^ doting on Hermiac eyes; 
 Soljadmiring of his qualities. 
 Things bafc and vile, holding no quantities 
 Loue can cranfpofe to forme and dignitie* 
 Louc lookes not with the cyes,but with the mlnde; 
 And therefore is wingd Cu^td painted blinde. 
 Nor hath louesminde of any iudgemencta()e: 
 Wiflgs,andnoeye$,figure,vnbcedyhafle. 
 And therefore is loue faid co bee a childe.* 
 Becaufejin choycc, he is fo oft beguiPd, 
 As waggiQi boyes^in game, themfeluesforfwcare^ 
 So the boy,Loue ,is pcriur'd cuery where. 
 For, ere ii^^/riw lookt on Hermias cyen^ 
 Hec hayld do woe othc$,that he was oncly mine* 
 And when this haile fome heate/rom Hermiajidi^ 
 So he difToIued^andfhowtsof oaches didmelt« 
 I will goc tell him of fairc Hermioi flight: 
 Thcn,tothe woddc^will he ^tomorrow night, 
 Purfue her : and for this intelligence^ 
 If I haue thankes,it is a deare e<pen(es 
 But herein meane 1 to enrich my palne^ 
 To haue his Hghc thither^and baclc againe* 'ExHp> 
 E»terQii'mcc/he C^rpmeryOndSnuggtjbe Uj/ner^^And 
 Bottom,^^^ lVeauer\ and Flute, the Bellowes mender^^^ 
 Snout,r Tinker I and Starucling the Tayltr^ 
 
 Qnitt, Is all our com pany hccre? 
 
 !5of. You wercbeft to call them generally, man by 
 inan,according to the fcrippe, 
 
 2«w»Herc is the fcrowle of eucry mans name, which i$ 
 thought fitjthrough al v^'/^<^»/,*to play in ourEntcrlude,be- 
 fore the Duke,& the Dutches^on hiswedding day at night; 
 ^o/^Firft good Te$t€rQuiftcey(zy whatthe Play treats on; 
 then read the names of the A^orsr&fo grow to a point. 
 
AMidfommernightcs drcame. 
 
 QMtnM^ryfOUT Play isthc inofl lamentable comcdyi 
 and moA crudl death ofTyrawHi aud Tt>ifhy^ 
 
 'Bdt, A very good pecce of worke,! affurc you, SC a mer- 
 ry, Now gOi)d ^eeterQuifu:es^]\ forth your A6tor{»,by the 
 (cro wle^M aflcrs,rprcade your fclues . 
 
 Anfwercjajlcallyou NtckBattam ,theWcaucr? 
 
 'Bott. Rcadic .* Name wh at part I am forj and procccdc, 
 
 Quin, YoUyNict^Battom are fccdowncforT'/r^ww. 
 
 ^ott* Whac is Pyramus? a loner, or a tyrant? - 
 
 Qtitn, A louer that kits himfclfe, mo(^ gallanr^for loue. 
 
 Bott. That will afkc fomc teares in the true performing 
 ofic, Jf Idoeit,letthc Audience lookcto their eyesjwil 
 mooue Hormcs : I will condole^in Tome meafure. To the 
 reft yct,my chicfc humour ts for atyrant« 1 could play £r* 
 eUs rarely , or a part to teare a Cat in , to make ail fplit the 
 raging rocks : and fhiuering{hocks,(hallbrcake the locks 
 ofpriion gates, and ?<&/^^wcarre fiiallfhinc from farrc, 
 and make & marrethc fooliOi Fates.This waslofcic.Now, 
 name the reft of the Players. Thisis £rtf/wvaine,a tyrants 
 vaine : A louer is morecondoling, 
 
 Quin FraHcuFlHtej^ihc. Bellowes mender. 
 
 Tlf^. Here Teeter Quiftce, 
 
 Qut»,Flute,yo\i muft take 'fhijhy^ on you, 
 
 Fta. What it Thtfhffh wandring knight? 
 
 Qutft* It is the Lady,that Pyramw muft loue. (ming* 
 
 F/.Nayfaith.Iet not me play a woma;I hauc abeard co- 
 
 Quin^ That$allone:you fliall play stinaMalkcjandyou 
 may fpeake as fmall as you will, 
 
 !^<;rr.And I may hide my face. Jet me play Thifhy to - lit 
 fpeake in a monftrous little voice; Thifneythifne^ ah Py-* 
 ramtu^my louer deare,thy ThyJhydt2iiz^tL Lady dearc. 
 
 £J^.No,no you muft play PyramwiU Fhtte^ you Thy[hy^ 
 
 i?/?/. Wclljprocccde^ Quk %ehm StarHeIingyxh<: Tailcif 
 
 Sur^ Here Peeur Quiftce. 
 
 Qmm, Rftbin SMrnelin^^ you muft play Thypyes mothers 
 &z Tom 
 
Tom Snome , the Tinker? 
 Snowt. Here Peter Quince^ 
 
 Qmn, You, Pyramus father; my kXk^Tbifhies father; 
 5««i^^OthcIoyHcr,you the Lyons part: And I hope here 
 is a Play fitted* 
 
 Smgjii^vkt you the Lyons part written? Pray you ^ xfit 
 bee,giuett mcctforl amfloweofiludie» 
 
 Youmay doe it ^extemforei for it is nothing but 
 roaring. 
 
 Bott» Let mee play the Lyon to. I will roarc y that I will 
 doe any mans heart good to he ace mee, I will roare^ that 
 Iwill make the Duke fay; Lethimroareagaine:let hhn 
 roare againe« 
 
 QiUn^Ktid you fhould do it too tcrribly,you would fright 
 theDutchefTc^andthe Ladtes,thatthey would fhrike;aDd 
 that were inough to hangrsaU^ 
 jiU' That would hang vs^ eucry mothers fonne* 
 
 out of their wits,thcy would haue no more difcretion,but 
 to hang vs J but 1 will aggrauate my voice fo , thati wil 
 roareyou as gencly,as any focking douetlwill roarc you, 
 and 'twere any Nightingale. 
 
 Qm».Yom can play no part but Piramtu : for Piramus is a 
 fweete fac'tman; a proper man as one fhallfee in a fom- 
 mexsday;a \r\o^ lonely g entlcmanlike man ; therefore 
 you muftnecdesplayT/V^wAtfv 
 
 Bot^ Wcll;I will vndcnak€ it ♦ What beard were 1 bcft 
 to play it in? 
 
 Qian. Why?whatyou will. 
 Bcft^. wil dilchargc it, in either your ftraw colour beard^ 
 your Orange tawnic beardc,your purple in grainc beardj 
 oryourfrcnchcrownccoIourbcard,your perfit yeflov/, 
 
 QuinSovsic of your frcnch crowncs haue no baircat all; 
 and then you will play bare fac't. Butmaiftcrs here arc 
 yourparts^and I am co intteatyou^rcquel) y ou^and defire 
 
 you 
 
A MIdfomtncr nightcs drcme. 
 
 you^tocoathem by to morrow night t and mcete mce in 
 thepalace wood,a miIcwithoutthctownc,by Moonc- 
 ligh^ cbere will wcc rchcarfc : for ifwcc mccce in the city, 
 wee (hal be dogd mth company^and our deuifes known. 
 In the meane time^I will draw a bill of properties^ fuch as 
 our play wants* I pray you faile me noc^. 
 
 Wee will tnectCj^ there we may rebcarfc moft ob- 
 fcencly,andcoragiou%* Take paines, bee perfir : adieu. 
 QiiPt* At the Dukes oke wcc mectc. 
 
 Enoughtholdcjor cut bowflrings. Exeunf. 
 SrAtr a Fairic at one dcorey^nd Robm goodfelio w 
 at another^ 
 
 %obm^mi now fpirii, whither wander youf 
 Fi^.Ouet htll^ouer dalc,thorough bufli^thorough brier^ 
 
 Ouerparkcjoucrpale^thorough Sood,thorough fire: 
 
 I do wander cucry where^fwifter than the Moons fphere: 
 
 And I fcruc the Fairy Queencj to dew her orbs vpon the 
 
 The cowflippes tall her Pen fioncrs bee, ( greenc* 
 
 In their gold coats/pottcsyou fee: 
 
 Thofc be Rubies^Fairie fauourst 
 
 In thofc freckies^liue their fauours^ 
 
 I muft goe fceke fomc dew droppcs here. 
 
 And hang a pearic in eucry coullippcs care. 
 
 Farewell thou Lobbc offpirits:lle begon. 
 
 Our Qacene, and all her Elues comebere anon. 
 ^o^,Thc king doth kcepc hisRcuds hereto night. 
 
 Take hccde the Qucene come not within his fights 
 
 For ObcYon is pafling fell and wrath? 
 
 Becaufe that flie^as her attendaivt,hath 
 
 Aioucly boy ftollcn/roman Indian king; 
 
 She ncucr had fofweetea changeling. 
 
 And iealous Ohtron would hauc the cbildc. 
 
 Knight of his traine, to trace the forrcftswilde* 
 
 But fhce,pcrforce .withhoulds the louedboy, 
 Crowncs him with flowcrs^and maktshim allhcrioy* 
 
 B} And 
 
A Midfbmmcrnightcs drcame* 
 
 And now^thcy neuer mccte in groue,of grccne. 
 By foantame cleare ^or fpangled Oarlighc fhecne^ 
 But they doc fquare^that all their Elucs, forfcarc, 
 Creepc into acorne cups^and hide them there. 
 
 Either I miflakc your fhapc^and making, quitc^ 
 Or els you arc that fhrewde and knauifh fpritc^ 
 Call'd Robin g9odfeUow. tat not you hec. 
 That frights the maidens ofthc Villageree, 
 Skim railke^andfometimcslabourin the qucrne, 
 Andbootlefle make the brcathleffc hufwife chcrne. 
 And fometimc make the drinke to beare no barme, 
 Miflelead nightwandercrs Jaughing at their harmed 
 Thole3th at Hobgoblin call you jandfweete Puck, 
 You doc their worke, and ttiey (hall hauc good luck. 
 Arenotyouhee? 
 
 i^o^.Thoufpeakeft aright ;ram that merry wanderer of 
 I ieafi to Oberon^zxii make him fmile, (the nighty 
 
 When I a fat andbcane-fedhorfe beguile; 
 Neyghing,in likeneflc of a filly folc. 
 Ana fometimc lurke I in a goffippcs bole, 
 In very likeneflc of a roflcd crabbe^ 
 And when flic drinkes,again(l her lips I bob. 
 And on her withered dc wIop,poure the ale. 
 The wifeft Aunt,telling the faddeft talc, 
 Sometimcjfor three fooccfloolc^miftaketh mce; 
 Thcnflippclfromherbummc^downe topples flic. 
 And tailour crycs^and fallcs into a coffc; 
 And then the whole Quire hould their hippes^and loflFe^ 
 And waxen in their myrth,and neczc^and fwearc 
 A merrier howcr was neuer wafle d therc« 
 But roome Faery: here comes Oberoft, 
 
 /a And here, my mi ftrciTc* Would that he were gon* 
 Emerthe KingofF^iries^ dt onedoon^witb hiji tramei 
 4tnd the Queeffe,at anotheryVpith h&rs. 
 Oht III met by mooncJipht^proud TpanU^ 
 
A MiJibmmernightesdrcame, 
 
 Qu^Wh a tjTcalous 0-^w»?Fairy{ld[>pc hence, 
 I hauefbrfworne his bedde,and company « 
 OA Tarry ,ra£h wanton* Am not I thy Lordf 
 Q^ThcnlmuftbcthyLady: but I know 
 When thouhall Pollen away from Fairyland, 
 And in th e fhape of Corw/at all day. 
 Playing on pipes of corne^ and vcrnng loue. 
 To amorous Phillida^NhY art thou here 
 Come from the fanheft ftcppe of hdiat 
 But that/or(both^the bounling ^;9!r4|/^«^ 
 Your buQcindmiflrene, and your warriour loue^ 
 To The fern muft be wedded ; and you come. 
 To giue their bedde, ioy and profperitie* 
 
 Ob^ How canft thou thus,for fliame,7)M»#^, 
 Glaunce at my credit, with HiffoUtaf 
 KnowingjI know thy loue to Tbe/eas^ 
 Dtdtt not thoulead him through the glimmering nlght> 
 From P^r^m^, whom he rauifhed/ 
 And make him^withfaire Eagles^breake his faith 
 With ^riadne^ and AntiofA^ 
 
 fij^ftf.Thefeate the forgeries of iealouficj 
 And neuer, (ince the middle Sommers fpring. 
 Met we on hill,in dale,f orreft^or meade^ 
 By paued fountaine, or by rufhic brooke. 
 Or in thebeachcd margent of the Sea, 
 To daunce our ringlets to the whirling winde. 
 But wi th thy brawlcs thou ha{l didurbd our fport* 
 Therefore the windcs^pyping to vs in vaine, 
 Asinreucnge,hauefuckt vp/romthe Sea, 
 Contagious foeges : which^fallmg in the land. 
 Hath euery pelting riuctmadc foproude^ 
 That they haue ouerborne their Continentf« 
 The Oxc hath therefore ftrctchc hisyoakcinvame^ 
 The Ploughman lofthis fweat,and the grcenecornc 
 Hath roued.cre his youth attainde a beatde: 
 
 B4 The 
 
/imiuiuamicx nigucc^ uicamc. 
 
 The fold flands empcyyin the drowned fields 
 And Crowes are fatted with the marrion fio eke, 
 Tlie nine mens Morris is fild vp with mudde* 
 Andthe qucint Mazcs,in the wanton grccne, 
 For lacke of cread^ are vndiftinguifhable. 
 The humane mortals want their win tcr heerc 
 No night is now with hymne or carroll blcft* 
 Therefore the Mooncf the goucrnclTe of floods) 
 Pale in her anger, wafhcs the aire; 
 That Rhcumaticke difcafesdoe abound. 
 And^thorougli this diflcmperaturc,wec fee 
 The feafons alter :hoary headed frofts 
 Fall in thefrefh iappeof the Crymfonroft, 
 And on old Hyems chinne and Icy crovvne. 
 An odorous Chaplct of fweete Sommex buddes 
 Is,as in mockery ,fct The Spring, the Sommer, 
 The childing Autumne^ngry Winter change 
 Their wonted Liucrics j and the mazed worldc. 
 By their increafe^nowkhowes not which is wbicbs 
 And this fame progeny of euils> 
 Comes from our debate^ from our diffention % 
 We are their Parents and original!. 
 
 Ohtron. Doe you amend it then X it Ives in you« 
 Why (hould TttanU croflc her Obermt 
 I doe but begge a little Changeling boyj 
 To be my Henchman* 
 
 Set yourbcarr atre^^* 
 The Faiery Land bui es not the cbilde of meet 
 His mother was a Votrcflc of my order: 
 And in the fpiced hds^*s ayer,by night, 
 Full often hath fhc goffipt.by my fide. 
 And fatj withmc onNeftuuesytViovi hn6s 
 Marking thVmbarked traders on the flood t 
 When we h aoc laugh t to fee the failcs con ceaue, 
 Andgcowbiggcfacllicd,withthc wanton winde; 
 
 Whieh 
 
AMidfommer nightcs dreamc* 
 
 which flie^with prcttic,and with fwimming gate, 
 
 FollowiDgCher wombcihcn rich with my young fquirc) 
 
 Would imitate^ and faileypon the land^ 
 
 To fetch me triftes,andictumc againc. 
 
 As from a voy age^rich with niarcnandiic* 
 
 But {he,being moicall^of that boy did dye, 
 
 And^for her fake, doe I teaie vp her boy; 
 
 And,for her fake^I will not part with him- 
 
 O^^How longjwithin this wood,encend you flay? 
 Quee^ Pcrchaunce^till after Ti&/r/^»/ wedding day. 
 
 If you will patiently daunce in our Rounds 
 
 And fee ourMooneJight Reuelle8,goe with vsj 
 
 If not,{hunnc me^and I will fpare your haunts^ 
 Ok Glue mce that boy, and I will goe with thee. 
 Quee. Not for thy Fairy kingdorae. Fairies away. 
 
 We fliali chide downeright^tf I longer flay* Exeunt^ 
 Oh, Well: goe thy way.Thou flialt not from this groue^ 
 
 Till I torment thee, for thi$iniury« 
 
 My gentle P/^ri^^ come hither: thou remembrcfl^ 
 
 Since once I fat vpon a promontory^ 
 
 And heard a Mearemaide^ on a Dolphins backe^ 
 
 Vttering fuch dulcet and hermoniousbreatb^ 
 
 That the rude fea grewe ciuill at heribng. 
 
 And ccttaine flarresChoc madly from their Sphcares, 
 
 Toheare the Sea-maids muflckc* 
 
 PhcI^*, I remember^ 
 O^.Tbatvery time^I faw(butthou could*flnot} 
 Flying betweene the colde Moodc and the earthy 
 CufidysSl arm'd : a cenaine aime he tooke 
 At a f aire Veftall, throned by weft. 
 And loof'd his loue- fliaft fmartly/rom his bowe. 
 As itfliouldpearce a hundred thoufand hearts: 
 But^l might fee young fiery fliaft 
 Quencht in the chafl beames of the watry Moone: 
 And thcimpcnall VotrcHe paflfed on^ 
 
A Midfommernightesdreame. 
 
 In maiden meditation, fancy free. 
 
 Yet maikt I, where the bolt of CufidfkH* 
 
 It fell vpon a liide weflcrne flower; 
 
 Before, milke wbite;now purple^ with loueswound. 
 
 And maidens call it, Loue in idlenefle . 
 
 Fetch mee that flowre : the herbe I (hewed thee once. 
 
 The ic wee of it,on fleepingeyeliddeslaide, 
 
 Will make or m an or worn an ma dly d o te^ 
 
 Vpon ihc next liueaeature that it lees. 
 
 Fetch mee thisherbe^and be thou here again e 
 
 Ere the Leuiathan can fwimme a league* 
 
 ^uMq put a girdle^roud about the earthy forty minutes. 
 
 Obefon. Hauingoncethisiulce^ 
 lie watch Tttania^ when flie is a fleepCj 
 And droppe the liquor of It, in her eyes: 
 The next thing then 03e,waldngj|ookes vpon 
 
 gic itonLyon^Beare,or Wolfe, orBull^ 
 n medling Monky,or on bufie Ape ) 
 She (ball purfiie it, with the foule of Loue. 
 And ere 1 take this charme, from of her (ight 
 f As I can take it with another herbe) 
 lie make her render vp her Page, to mee« 
 But,who comes herefl am inuifible. 
 And Iwillouerheare their conference. 
 
 ^fff^r Demetrius, Helena^^ZS^m^^^ # 
 Jbme, /loue thee not:thereforepurfue me not, 
 Where is Lyfandert^nd faire Herma? 
 The one He fiay: the other (layeth me. 
 Thou toldft me, they were (tolne vnto this wood: 
 And heream 1 ^ and wodde,within this wood; 
 Becaufe I cannot taecte my Hermia. 
 Hence,get the gone,and follow mee no more. 
 
 Hel^ You draw mee^you hard heaned Adamant: 
 But yetyoudrawnot Iron. For my heart 
 l8 true as fieele«Leaue you your power todraw^ 
 
 And 
 
A Midfommernightesdreame* 
 
 And I (hall haue no power to folio w you, 
 D^iw. Doe I entifeyouf Doe I fpcakcyoufairc? 
 
 Or rather doe I not in plained cruthe^ 
 
 Tell you 1 doe nor, not I cannot loue youf 
 Hele. And euen,for thar^do 1 loucy ou, the more: 
 
 I am yourSpanicll : and, Demetriusy 
 
 The moreyoubeatmee,IwiIl fawnc on you. 
 
 Vfe mebutasyourSpanicIi :fpurncme,ftrikcniee, 
 NegleA n[iee,loofe me : onely giue me Icaue 
 (Vnwonhie as I am)tofollowyou. 
 What worfer place can ibcgge/in your loue 
 ( And yet, a place of high refpect with mce) 
 Then tobevfedasyouvfcyourdogge, 
 
 D«wf. Tempt not, too much,thc hatred of my fpirit. 
 Fori am fick,when 1 do looke on thee, 
 
 Hele. And I am fick, when I looke not on you. 
 Deme, You doeimpeach your modelftie toomuck3 
 To leauc thecitie^and commit your felfe. 
 Into the hands of one that louesy ou not^ 
 To truft the opportunitie of night. 
 And the ill counfell ofa defertplace. 
 With the rich worth of your virginitie. 
 
 HeU Yourvertue is my priuiledge \ Forthat 
 It is not night, when I doe fee your face. 
 Therefore, I thinke, lara not in the night. 
 Nor doth this wood lacke worlds ofcompany. 
 For you, in ray refpe<ft,are all the worlds 
 Then, how can it be faide,! am alon^ 
 When all the world is here, to looke on mee? 
 
 lieme. lie runne from thee,and hide me in the brakes, 
 Andleaue ihecto the mercy of wilde foeaftes, 
 
 HeU The wildcft hath not fuch a heaift as you. 
 Runne when you will r The Aory fjiall be cbaung^: 
 ApUo flies and Daphne holds the chafe: 
 ThcDouc purfucs die Griffon: the mildc Hinde 
 
 Cz Make 
 
AMIdlbmmer nightes dreamc. 
 
 Makes fpeede to catch theTigre. Bootelefle fpccdc^ 231 
 Whcncowardifc purfucs^and valour flics. 
 
 Demeu I will not flay thy quedions* Let mc goc; 
 Or ifthou followc mee, do not bdceue, 
 But I (hall doe thee mifchtefe, in the wood. 233 
 
 HeLl^ in ibeTctnple,in the townc^tbc fidde. 
 You doe me mifchicfc ♦ Fy Demetriuu 
 Your wrongs doe fet a fcandall on my (ex.* 
 We cannot fight for loue , as men may doe: 239 
 We fhould be woo*d,and were not made lowooe. 
 Be follow thee and make a heauen of hell^ 
 To dy vpon the hand I loue fo well* 
 
 O^.Farc thee well Nymph, Ere he dolcaue this groue ^ 243 
 Thou (haft fly bim^^andhe fliallfeekc thy loue. 
 Haft thou the flower there? Welcome wanderctt 
 Enter Pucke* 
 
 p/^ci^ I, there It is. 
 
 Ob^ I pray thee giuc it mee# 247 
 I know a banke where the wilde time bio wes;^ 
 Where Oxlips, and the nodding Violeterowes^ 
 Quite ouercanopi'd with luQiious woodbine^ 
 With (weeteniuikerofes^ and wiih Eglantine; 25/ 
 There fleepes tytumay fomctimeof the night, 
 Luld in thefe flowers^with daunces and delight: 
 And there the fnake throwesherenammeldrkinne. 
 Weed wide enough to wrappe a Fairy in, 235 
 And, with the iuyce of this^Ile ftrcakehereycsj 
 And make her full of hateful! phantaHes. 
 Take thou fome ofir, and fccke through this grouc? 
 A (wecte K^thenun Lady is in louc^ 
 With a difdainefuil youth : annoint his eyes» 
 But doe its when the next thing heefpics. 
 May be the Ladic.Thou flialt know the man. 
 By the y^/^7f«M;y garments he hath on^ 
 EfFcfl it wiih fome carc>ihat he may proouc 
 
 More 
 
AMidfommer nightC5 drcame* 
 
 More fond on her^ then flie vpon her loue« 
 And looke thou mcete me ere the firft Cocke crowc, 
 Pa^Fcare not my Lord ; your fc ruant fhall do fo. Exeunt , 
 
 £»/<?rTytania QueeneofFAiries^ with her trainee 
 Qttee, Come^ novvaRoundelJ^and a Fairy (bog: 
 Then,for the thirdpartofa minute hence. 
 Some to kill cankers in the musk rofe buds. 
 Some warre with Reremife, for their Icthtcn wings. 
 To make my fm all Eiues coates^and fome keepe backe 
 The clamorous Owle,that nightly hootes and wonders 
 At our queintfpirits •Sing me now a fleepe; 
 Then toyour offices, and let mee rcft« 
 Fairies fing^ 
 You fpotted Snakes, with double tongue , 
 Thorny Hedgehoggesbe not fcene. 
 Newts and bli'ndewormesdono wrong. 
 Come not neere our Fairy Queene. 
 FhilomeleyVi\i\i melody. 
 Sing in our fwecte Lullaby, 
 Luila,iulia,luilaby,lulla, lulla, luUaby , 
 Neuer harme, nor (pell, nor charme. 
 Come our ioueiy lady nigh. 
 So good night, with luUaby^ 
 
 i» Ki/. Wcauing Spiders come not hecre: 
 Hence you long IegdSpinners,hences 
 Beetles blacke approach not neeres 
 Worme norfnailedoenooiFence. 
 ^hilomele withmelody>&c. 
 
 2. Fau Hence away :now all is well: 
 One aloofe,(iand CentinelL 
 
 B^/^rOberon. 
 Oh. What thou feefl,when thou docft wake^ 
 Doe it for thy tt ue loue take: 
 Loue and languifliforhisfake. 
 BeitOuncc,or Catte,orBeare, 
 
 C 3 ^^^^i 
 
AMidfommernightes dreame^ 
 
 Pard,orBoare with briftlcdhaire. 
 In thy eye that ftiaJI appeare. 
 When thou wak'(l,itis thy deare; 
 Wake, when fomc vile thing is neere. 
 
 Enter Lyfander: WHcrmia, 
 
 Lyf¥z\rc loue,you faintc, with wandring in the wood: 
 And tofpcakc troth Ihauc forgot our way* 
 Wcele reft vs flermta^if you ihinke itgood, 
 And tarry for the comfor of the day* 
 
 Her, Bet it fo Ly fonder: findc you out a bedde; 
 For I, vpon this banke^will reft my head. 
 
 I^y^ One turfe fliall ferue^as pillow, for vs both, 
 Onehcart,onebedde, two bofomcs,andone troth. 
 
 Her^ Nay god Lyfander : for my fakc,my deere 
 Ly further off, yet ; doc not lye fo necrc. 
 
 Lyf, O take the fenfe^fweetCjofmy innocence* 
 Loue takes the mcaningjin loues conference, 
 I meanethat my heart vnto yours it knit; 
 So that but one heart wee ean make of it: 
 Two bofomcs interchained with an oath; 
 So then two boibmes^^and a (ingle troth. 
 Then,by yourfide,no bcd-roomc me deny: 
 For lying fo^ Hermia^l doc not lye. 
 
 Her, Ly fonder rlddks very prettily. 
 Nowrnucb-befhrewe my manncrsjand my pride, 
 Jf Hermtn meant to fay, Lyf4nder\y^d<, 
 But gentle friend^^for loue and curtcfie, 
 Ly further off, an humane modefly : 
 Such reparation, as may well be faid 
 Becomes a vercuous batcbeler^and a maide^ 
 So farrc be diftant j and good night fweetc friend; 
 Thy loue nere alter till thy fwcete life end. 
 
 Lyf. Amcn,amen,to that faireprayer , fay I> 
 And then end life, when I end loy alty* 
 Hccrc is my bcdiflccpc muc thee all his reft* 
 
 ^ ^ With 
 
A Midfommernightes dreame. 
 
 Her% Wich halfe that wifih.the wifhers eyes bepreft» 
 
 £»f<?/-Pucke« 
 Fuckj' Th rough the forreft haue I gone. 
 But Atbenim found I none. 
 On wh ofe eyes I fnigh t approue 
 This flowers force in ftirringloue. 
 Night and fiience .Who is heere? 
 Wee des of Athens he doth we arc : 
 This is hee (my tnafter faide ) 
 Defpifed the AthetUanxsx^At,, 
 Andherethe maiden, fleepingfound^ 
 On the danke and dirty ground. 
 Pretty fo wlc,flie durft not lye, 
 Neere thislack-loue^thiskil-curtefie* 
 Churlc , vpon thy eyes I thro we 
 All the power this charme doth owe: 
 When thou wak*ft^lctloueforbidde 
 Sleepe^his (eat,on thy eye lidde* 
 So awake, when I am gon : 
 For I mu A now to Oberon^ Exit. 
 £»^^Demetrlus WHelena ruming, 
 
 JFf(?/.Stay; though thou kill mee^fwcete Demetrm. 
 
 Q)e^ I charge thee hence^and doe not haunt mee thus. 
 
 HeU.O^wSt thou darkling leaue mef doe not Co, 
 
 De^ Stayjon thy peiill : I alone willgoe* 
 
 HelJJji am out ofbreat h/m this fond chafe^ 
 The more my prayer^the Icflcr is my grace, 
 Happie is Hermia^ wherefoere Die lies: 
 For (he hath blefred,and attrafHue eyes. 
 How came her eyes fo brightPNot with faltteares* 
 If fo,my eyes are ofmer wafhtthen hers. 
 NosHo : I am as vgly as a B eare: 
 Forbeaftes that meete mcc^unne away^for fcarc. 
 Thercfore,no maruaite, though Demetrm 
 Doe,as amonftcr^fly myprciencejtbust 
 
 C4 What 
 
Aivuaiommcr nigtites dreamc^. 
 
 what wicked anddiffemblingglafic, of mioc^ 
 Made me compare wkhHcrmk/ fphcrycyco/ 
 But,who is \\mlLyfa»(^i on the ground*' 
 Dcad»or aflcepe? I fee no bloody no wounds 
 X7/W<?K,ifyou liuc, good fir awake. 
 
 LyfAnd runnc through fire, I will for thy fwecic fake, 
 Trftnfpatent Hekna^rxzxixt^ (hewes arte. 
 That through thy bofome, makes me fee thy heart. 
 Where is Bemetrimf Oh how fit a word 
 Is iha« vile name^ to perifti on my fwotdei 
 
 HelJ>Q not fay h^Lyptnder, fay not fo, 
 Whas though he ioue your i/<rr^?LordjWhat though? 
 Yet Hermm ftill loues you : then be content. 
 
 Lyf, Content with HermtafHo : I doe repent 
 The tedious minutes^ I with hex haue fpent. 
 Not Hermm^hvitHekttaWont^ 
 Who will not change a Rauen for a douc? 
 The will of man is by hisreafoo fwai'd: 
 And reafonfaiesyou arc the wonhier maide. 
 Things growing are not ripe, vntill their feafon: 
 So I, being young, till now ripe not toreafon« 
 And touching now^thepomt of humane skill, 
 Reafosi becomes the Marfhail to my wiU, 
 And leads mee to your eyes ; where I oreiooke 
 Lcues ftories, written inJouesricheftbooke^ 
 
 iif^/. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery bomer 
 When,atyoarbands,dtdl delerue this icome/ 
 Id not enough, ift not enough, young man, 
 Thatldid ncuer,no nor newer can, 
 Dcieme a (weetelookefrom Demeiriustje^ 
 But you muft flout my iofufficiency^ 
 Good troth you doe mee wrongfgood foothyoudoe) 
 In Aicb difdainfuUmanner,ineef o wooe« 
 6ttt,£ireyou well : perforce^ Imudconfeffey 
 I thoughtyott Lord of more true gentlcneAv 
 
A Midfbmmcr nightcs drcamc 
 
 that a Lad'ie, of one niati rcfiif'd , 
 
 SfiouId,ofanother,diercrorc beabuM/ Exft» 
 fyf^Shc fees not Hermta , Hermf'a, ileepethou there^ 
 
 And neucr m afft thou come Ljfander nccrc. 
 
 For,as a fu rfct of the fwcctcft things 
 
 The dcepeft loathing, to rhe Romackebringes: 
 
 Or, as the hereHes^tnat men docleauc^ 
 
 Arc hated moft ofthofc they did decciue: 
 
 So thou,Tny furfef3and my hercfic. 
 
 Ofallbeehated;but thcmoftjot mcc; 
 
 And all my powers addreffeyour loue and might. 
 
 To honour Hehf, znd to be her knight. Exit* 
 Her, Helpc mee Lyfa^iderjnelpc mcc : do thy bcft 
 To pluck this crawling fcrpcni^from my brefi« 
 Ay mee,for piitic. What a dreame was hcref 
 i;(/3tt?</#r I ookc, how I doc quake withfearc. 
 Me chought^a ferpcnt cate my heart away. 
 And you late fmiling athiscruellpray. 
 Lyfander what»remou*df Lyfander^laOxA^ 
 What,outofhearing,gon? Nofound,no word? 
 Alackc where arc you? Spcake, andifyouheare; 
 Spcakcjof all loues. ] fwoune almod with feare* 
 No, then I well perceiue,you are not ny ; 
 Either deathpr you^lle finde immediately, JExit. 
 Snter$he Clownes, 
 
 Bott^Axt wee all metf 
 
 ^>9.Pat,pat : andhercsamaruailes conuenient place^ 
 for our rchearfall.Thisgrecnc plot fliali be our ftagc, this 
 hauihome brake out tyring houfc^and wee will doe it in 
 zBxoUi as wee will doe it before the Dukc» 
 'Bott Tweeter Qnificef 
 
 Whatfaicfl diou,bully,S<?fr<?W 
 !»<?^.There are thingsin this Comedy ^oiJ^yramus and 
 that will neuerplcafc, F irR^ Pj^ramw mua draw 
 a fwordctokillhimfclfci which the Ladies cannot abide, 
 ' D How 
 
A Midfommer mglues drc ame. 
 
 How anfwereyou that? 
 
 Sn0Ut3cth\im^^ parlous feare. 
 
 S/^ir.Ibelccue^ we muft Icaue the killing, out,when all 
 is done. 
 
 JSatt $^ot a whit ; Ihauc a deuifc to make all well. Write 
 roc aProIogue, and let the Prologue fceme to fay^we wil 
 do no harnie , with our fwords , and that Tyramus is not 
 kildindeede : and for the more better alTurance^tel thetHj 
 that 1 ^yramas am not Pyramus, buiBottom the wcauer; 
 this v/ili put them out of feare* 
 
 5«'««WcII: wee will hauc luch aPrologue,andit ftiallbc 
 written in eight and fix, 
 
 Bot^o :make it two more : let it be written in eight 8c 
 
 eight. 
 
 $Koiit, Will not the ladies be afeard of the Lyon? 
 
 St(^r, I feare it, 1 promife you. 
 'Bor. Mafters,you oughtto confidet with your felfe, to 
 bring in (Cod (hiclde vs) a Lyon among Ladies, is 
 amoftdreadfuUthing. For there is not a more fearefull 
 Wilde foulc then your Lyon liuing : & we ought to looke 
 tootc* 
 
 StJo. Thcrfore, another.Prologue mufl tel,he is not a Lion. 
 Bot^^^Y • y^" "^"^ name his name , and halfe his face 
 murt be feene through the Lions necke, and he himfelfe 
 niuftfpeakethrough/ayingthus, or to the famedefecSl; 
 Ladicsjorfaire Ladies,! would vvifliyou, or I would re- 
 quefiyou,orIwoId intreatyoupot to feare,not to treble: 
 my life foryours Ifyou thinke 1 come hither as a Lyon, it 
 were pittieofmy liie^No : I amnofuch thing.* I am a man 
 asother men are:& there indeed, let him name his name, 
 and tell them plainelvhe is Snugge yXhtloyntu 
 
 Welliiifliallbero.-butth ere is two hard things: 
 that isy to bring the Moone-light into a chamber ; for you 
 knoW) ^Pyram/fs and Thtfhy meete by Moone-light 
 5/i,Doth the Moonc fhine,that night^we play our Play? 
 
A Midlbmrnernightesdrcame. 
 
 Btf.ACalender.aCalendenlookcinthe AImanack:finde 
 out Moonc-{bme,finde out Moone-fhine* 
 Ycsiit doth ftiine that night. 
 C^'f* Whythcn^mayyouleaue acaleraentofthe great 
 chamber window^'where weplay)open; and the Moone 
 may fhine in at the cafement. 
 
 Q^in. I : orels,one muft come in, with a bufli ofthorns, 
 6c a lacernjand fay he comes to disf^gure^ or to prcfcnt the 
 perfon of Moonc-fhine.Then^lhcre is another thing ;we 
 muft haue a wal in the great chabert for T^ramuf bcThf" 
 fy( laics the ftoryj did talkc through the chinke of a wall* 
 ifw.You can neuer bring in a wal .What fay you Bottmt 
 Some man or other muft prcfent wall: and let him 
 hauc fome plaftcr^or fom lome,or fomc rough caft,about 
 bim,to (ignifie wall; orlet him holdehis fingers thus:and 
 through that crany , (hall Pyrmns and T^^whif- 
 per. 
 
 Ifthatmay be,then all is wellCome, fit downc e- 
 uery mothers Tonne, and reherfeyoui pans-Z^^y^iw/^/jyou 
 beginne ; when you haue fpokcnyour fpeecbj enter imo 
 that Brake, and To euery one according to his cue, 
 JS»/tfr Robin 
 
 ^<?.Whathempcnhomcfpunnes hauc we fwaggringhere, 
 So neere the Cradle of ihc Fairy Qiieene? 
 What,a play to wardf lie be an Auditor, 
 An A6^orto pcrhappcsjlf I feecaufc. 
 Quia, Speake PyramusxThyfby(izn&(on\\^ 
 
 Pyra^ Thi[Bytht flowers of odious fauours fwecie, 
 
 j^i>;.Odoun3odorous, 
 
 Py. Odours fauours fweete. 
 So hath thy breath, my dcarcft Thifiy deare. 
 But harke, a voice : fiay thou but hcere a while, 
 And by and by I will to thee appeare* £xit» 
 
 Quin, A ftrangerPyr^fw/^i.then ere played hcere^ 
 
 Thjf. Mull Ifpeakcnowf 
 
 D2 I 
 
A Midfommernightes dreame. 
 
 Qmn^ Imarry muftyou.Foryou muft vndcrftad^hegoes 
 but to fee anoyfe^that heheard^and istocomcagaine^ 
 
 Tkyf, Moft radiant Pyramwymo^\\\\\t white ofhcwe. 
 Of colour hke the redrofe^on triumphant bryer^ 
 MoO brisky luuenall^and eeke niofllouely lewe, 
 Asttuc astrucfthorfe, thatyct would ncucr tyre^ 
 He mtete thee Pjframw,^tN(ftftfer toumbe. 
 
 Qutft.Ntnw toumbc,njan. Why ?you mud not fpcake 
 That yet. That you anfwcre ioPjramm»Yo\\ fpcake 
 AI your part at once^cues^and^all.^^r^fKiaif^entertyourcue 
 ispa(l;It is;neQertire. 
 
 Tfyf*Oy as true as trueft hoHc,ihat yet would ncucrtyrc, 
 
 T/Jf 1 were hiieyThiffhy^ were onely thine. 
 
 Qjiin, O monftrous/O ftrangc/W e arc hauntcdPray ttia- 
 ftcrs fly maftcr4:hclpe. 
 
 Roh. He follow you : He leadeyou about aKound^ 
 Through bogge^ through bulb, through brake, through 
 Sometime a horle He be, fometime a hound, (brycr; 
 A hogge,a hcadeleffe Bcare>fomcrimc a fier. 
 And neigh, and barke,and grunc^ and rore^and bume^ 
 Likchorfc,hound,hogge,beare,fire,at euery turne. Exit^ 
 
 !5p/r.Why doe they runnc awayf Thisisa knaucry of 
 them to make mee afeard^ £0^^ rSnowtc* 
 
 Sfu O Bottom^t\io\x art chaung'd. What do I fee on thee? 
 i?tfi*Whatdoeyoufee? You fee an Affc hcadofyour 
 owne#Do you/ 
 
 Enter Quince, (Exit. 
 
 Quin BleiTc thee %//009,blelTe thee. Thou art traflated. 
 
 Bot^ I fee their knauery*Thi$ is to make an affe of mee,to 
 fright mcjif they couid:but I wil not Airre from this place 
 do what they can , I will walke vp and downe heere, and 
 will fing that they (hall heare I am not afraide^ 
 The Woofell cock, fo blacke ofhewe^ 
 With Orange tawny bill. 
 
 The 
 
IILi. 
 
 121 
 
 "5 
 
 I2g 
 
 '37 
 
 141 
 
 '45 
 
 AMidfommer nightes dreamc* 
 
 The ThrofUe, with his note fo true. 
 
 The Wrcn^ with Jittic quilf, 
 Tytanis. What Angell wakes me from my flowiybed/ 
 ^«/.Thc Fy nch , tbc Sparrowe,and the Lttkej 
 
 TTic plainfbngCuckowgray: 
 
 Whofe note^rull manyamandothmaiicej 
 
 And dares not anfwere, nay» 
 
 For indeede^who would fee his wit to (b fooliih a birdel 
 Wbowouldgiuea bird the ly^thoughhee cry Cuckowj 
 Dfuerfo? 
 
 7 Ha, \ pray thce,gcntlc mortall, fing againe* 
 Myne eare is much enamoured of thy note: 
 So is mine eye enthralled CO thy /hape. 
 And chy faire vettties force (perforce )doth moouemec^ 
 On the firfl vie we to fay, to fwcarcj I loue ihec. 
 
 "Bott. Me e chinks m ift refle^you Qiouldhauc little rea(bn 
 forthat. Andyet^ to fay the truch^ reafon and loue keepe 
 Ihtfe company together,now a daies.The more the picty^ 
 thac fome honeil neighbours will not make them friends* 
 
 Tyta^ Thou arc as wife^as thou art beautifuIL 
 Bott. Notfo neither:butif I had wic enough to get out 
 of chis wood, I haue enough co (erne mine owe turne* 
 
 TytM Out of this wood, doc not deiire co goer 
 Thou (halcremaine here, whecher thou wilt orno* 
 I am a fpirit, of no common race: 
 The Sommer,ftill , doch tend vpon my Rate, 
 And 1 doe loue cbee .* cherefore goe wich mee« 
 He giue thee Fairies to attend on thee: 
 And cheyfliallfecchcheelcwels^fromthcdeepe. 
 And fing, while thou, on preifed flowers^dofifleepe: 
 And I will puree chy motcall groflencffe fo. 
 That thou flialc, hkc an aycry fpirit^goe. 
 
A miaiommeinigntes drcamee 
 
 Taims, Rcadierand I, and I, audi. Where fhall we goc? 
 
 Tiw.Bekinde and curccous tochisgcntlcmanj 
 Hop in his vvalkes, and gambole in his eyes, 
 Fcede him with Apricocks^ and Dewberries, 
 With purple Grapes, greenc figges, and Mulberries, 
 Thchonybagges ftealefrom the humble Bees, 
 And for night tapers,croppe their waxen thighes. 
 And h'ght them at the fiery Glowe-wormes cyes^ 
 Tohaiie my loue to bedde, and to arife. 
 And pluck the wings, from painted Butterflies, 
 To fanne the Moone-beames from hisfleeping cycs^ 
 Nod to him Elucs, and doe him cuncfics. 
 x» Fat, Haile mortalI,haile. 
 '^.Fai. Haile, 
 Haile* 
 
 Bat, I cry your worfhips mcrcy^ hartily : I befeechyo 
 worfhippesnamct 
 Cob.CohrvMe, 
 
 "Bot. I fhall defire you ofmore acquaintance,good ma 
 fter Cobtveb: i( I cut myfinger,Ifha!l make bolde with 
 you» Your name hooeft genilcmanf 
 
 'Pea. Peafe^bloffome. 
 
 Bot. Ipray you commend mee to miflre(3e S^fsafh^ your 
 inothcr,andtomafter?^*i/?«4yourfather. Good mafter 
 ^^^/^-^/(^J^w^,! fliall defire you ofmore acquaintance, 
 to. Your name I befecchyoufir? 
 Mu/f* Mfffiardfiede. 
 
 Bot- GoodmzdetMufiardfiede^l know your patience 
 well. That fame cowardIy,gyantlike,Ox-becfe hath de- 
 uourd many a gentleman of your houfc. I promifc you , 
 yourkindred hath made myeyeswater,crenow. IdeHre 
 you more acquaintance,good mafter Muflardfeede , 
 
 Tita. Come waitc vpon him : leadc him to my bower* 
 The Moone, me thinkes,lookcs with a wairy eye: 
 And when fhce weepes, weepcs eucry little flower, 
 
 Lamen. 
 
AMidfomniernightes dreame, 
 
 Lamencing fome enforced chaftitie, 
 Ty vp my louers tongue, bring him filently Bxit^ 
 Enter XVi/^ i>/ Fairies, W Robin goodfellow* 
 
 Oh^ I wonder if 7/M«/4be awakt; 
 Then what it was^ that next came in her eye. 
 Which flie muftdoteon,in cxtreamitie. 
 Here comes my meifenger.Hownow^raad fpirit? 
 What nightrule n ow about this haunted grouef 
 
 pHck* My miftrcfle with a monger is in louc, 
 Nccre to her clofe and confecrated bowen 
 While (he was in her dull, and fleepinghower. 
 Acre wof patches, rude Mechanicals, 
 That worke for bread^vpon Atheftian (lalies. 
 Were met together to rehearfe a play. 
 Intended for great The feus nuptiall day: 
 The (halloweft thickskinne,orthat barraine /brt. 
 Who Pyramm prefented^ in their fporr, 
 Forfooke bis Scene, and cntred in a brake^ 
 VVhen I did him atthisaduantage take: 
 AnAffes nole I fixed on his head. 
 Anon \i\sThilhie mudht anfwered. 
 And forth my Minnickcomes^When they him fpy^ 
 As wildegeefe, thatthe creeping Fouler eye^ 
 Or ruffct pated choughes, many in fort 
 (Ry fing,and cawing^at the gunnes report ) 
 Seuer themfelues^and madly fweepe the sky: 
 So, at his fjght,away hisfellowes fly. 
 And at our (tampe,here ore and ore ^one falles: 
 He murther cryes^ and helpe from Athens cal s 
 Their fcnfe,thus weake, loft with their feares^thus ftrong 
 Made fenfelcfle things begin to doe them wrong 
 For,briers and thornes, at their appareIJ,fnatch: 
 •Some fleeues, fome hats; from yeelders^all things catch, 
 I led them on,in thisdiliradedfeare. 
 And left fweete Pyramm tranflatcd there: 
 
 D 4 When 
 
n iviiuiuainier nignies arcamc. 
 
 When in that moment (fo it came to paflTc ) 
 jytani4 wak*t, and Oraight way lou*d an Afle. 
 
 O^^Thtsrallesoutbetter^thcnlcould deuife* 
 But had thou yet latchc t(i e Athtmans ey es^ 
 Wid\ the ioue iuice5as 1 did bid thee doe? 
 
 Rfh, Itookehim (ieepingfthatis finilht to) 
 And the o/^/^rfwVw woman, by his fide; 
 That when he wak*t,of force (he muft be cy'd. 
 Enter Demetrius 4»^Hermia, 
 Oh* Stand clofc-.this is the (zmtjithenidH, 
 
 R$b, This is the womambut notchis the man* 
 
 J)*mef.O,W hy rebuke you him^that louesyou fo? 
 Lay breath fo bittcr,on your bitter foe. 
 
 Her, Now I but chide : but I (hould vfc thee worfi?^ 
 Fot thou( i feare) haO giucnme caufe tocurfe* 
 ]f thou had flaine LyfaruUr^in his (iecpe; (co. 
 Being ore (hooes in blood^pluoge in the dcepe^Sc kiil mee 
 The Sunne was not fo true vnto the day, 
 As hcc to mce»Would hee haue ftollcn away, 
 Frow deeping HermutfWt bcleeue^ as foone. 
 This whole earth may bebor'dj and that the Moone 
 May through the Center creepe^ and fo diipieafe 
 Her brothers noonetide^with t\k'Antifodtf» 
 It cannot be, but thou haf! murdred him* 
 So (houlda marthererlookcjfodeadjfbgrlmme^ 
 
 ^em, Solhould the murthcred lookc^an d fb /hould 
 PearH through the heart, with your flerne cruelty^ 
 YetyoUj themnrtherer,lookc as bright, as cleere. 
 As yon6tx Venus^ in her glimmering Tphearc. 
 
 He\ Whats this to my Lyfitnderf Where is hcc? 
 Ah good DemetrittSf wik thou giue him mee? 
 
 fD^w^.lhad rather giue his carcaHe to my hounds. 
 
 i7fr, Out dog,out curre ; chou driu'ft me pad the bounds 
 Of maidens patience. Had thou daine him then? 
 Hcnccfotth be neuer numbrcd among men* 
 
 O 
 
A Midfommer nightes dreamc* 
 
 0^oncetclItruc:tcIltruc,euenformyrakc: • 
 Durfl thou haiielookt vpon him^bcing awake? 
 Ana nancnou kiia nim,^::^!"^-'^ brau^ rutch; 
 Could not a wormc^an Adder do fo much? 
 An Adder did it; For with doubler tongue 
 Then thyne(thou (crpencj neuer Adder ming. 
 
 Deme,YoM fpendc yourpaflion,on amilprird mood: 
 J am not guilty of Lyy^v^/^/bloode: 
 Nor is he deade^fbr ought that I can tell. 
 
 Her, I pray thee^tell mee then,that he is well. 
 
 -Df* And if I could^what fhould I get therefore^ 
 
 Her. A priuiledge,neuerto fee mee more; 
 And from thy hated prefence part I : fee me no morq 
 Whether he be dead orno. Exit. 
 
 Deme. There is no following her in this fierce vaine* 
 Heeretherefore/or a while,I will remaine. 
 Sofbrrowesheauinefle doth heauiergrowe. 
 For debt that bankrout flippe doth forrow owe: 
 Which now in fome flight meafure it will pay; 
 If for his tender here I make fbme ftay^ Ly dome, 
 
 Ob. Wh at haft thou donefThouhaft miftaken quite. 
 And laid theloueiuice on fome true loues %ht. 
 Of thy mifprifion,muft perforce enfue 
 Some true loue turn d, and not a falfe turnd true. 
 
 iRe»^/.Thenfate orerulcs>thatonc man holding troth^ 
 A million faile, confounding oath on oath ^ 
 
 Ob. About the wood^goe fwifter then the winde. 
 And Helenao^ Athens looke thou finde. 
 All fancy ficke (he is and pale of cheere. 
 With fighes of loue, that cofts the frefli blood dcare. 
 By fome illufion fee thou bring her here: 
 lie charme his eyes, againft ftie doe appears 
 
 7^te,Igoe^Igoe, looke how I goe# 
 Swifter then arrow, from the Tartars bowe 
 
 O^. Flower of this purple dy, 
 
 £ Hit 
 
n iviiaiommer nigtitcs dreame. 
 
 Hitwith Capidsskxchety, 
 Sinke in appIeo'"his eye. 
 When his louc he doth cfpyj 
 Let her fhine as glorioufly 
 As iUtV^fiui of the sky. 
 When thou wak*!!, if fiie be by, 
 Bcgge ofhcr; for renoedy, 
 
 ^Mckj Captaine of our Fairy band, 
 JYif/^//4is heere at hande^ 
 And the youth, miftooke by mcc. 
 Pleading fora loucrs fee 
 Shall wee their fond pageant fee? 
 Lord,wbat foolesthefc mortals bee/ 
 
 0^4 Stand afidc.The noy fe,tbey make, 
 Will c aufe Demetrmf to a wake, 
 
 Pu, Then will two^ at once,wooe one? 
 Thatmuftneedesbe fport alone. 
 And tbofe things do beft pleafe mee^ 
 That befall prepoflVoufly. 
 
 ^/?/f>'Lyfander,4«fi( Helena* 
 
 Ly[^ Why fhouldyou think,that I fliould wooe in fcorne? 
 Scome, and derifion , neuer comein teares. 
 Looke whenTvow,! weepe : andvowesibbomej 
 In their oatiuitie ail truth appeares. 
 How can thefc things^in mce^feeme fcome to you? 
 B eating the badge of faith to prooue them t rue^ 
 
 Hel^ You doe aduance your cunning, more, and more^ 
 When trueth killes truth, 6 diuelifh holy fray/ 
 Thefe vowes are Hermias^ Will you giue her ore? 
 Weigh oath,withoath>andyou will nothing waigh. 
 Your vowes to her^and meef putin two fcales ) 
 Will cuen weigh: and both as light as tales* 
 Lyf. I had no iudgement,when to her I (wore. 
 Hp/*Nor none^in my minde^nowyou giue her ore. 
 
niii. 
 
 J43 
 
 147 
 
 151 
 
 '55 
 
 '59 
 
 163 
 
 A Mid/brnmernightesdreame. 
 
 Z^yl DemetrMs\oucshcr:Attd he loues notyou. 
 Dem^. O goddcffe, nymphjpcrfed diuine. 
 To whaf,my louc, (hall I compare thine cync/ 
 Chriftall is muddy.O, how ripe, in fliowe, 
 Thyiippcsjthorekifliing chcTries,cempunggrowcy 
 That pure coniealed white, high Taurus mow, 
 Fand with the Eafteme wiiide,turnc$to a crowe, 
 When thou holdftvp thy hand, O lecmekifTe 
 This Princefle of pure white^thisfcale of bliflc. 
 
 Help fpigfat/O hellf I fee, you all are bent 
 To fee againd mee^ for your merriment^ 
 If you were ciuill, andknew curtefte. 
 You would not doe mee thus much iniury* 
 Can you not hate mee^as 1 know you doe» 
 Butyou roudioyne^ih foules^ to mocke meetof 
 If you were men^asmenyou areinfhowe^ 
 You would not vfe a gentle Lady fo; 
 To vowe, andfweare, and fuperpraife my parts. 
 When I am (lire ^you hate mee with yourhearcs^ 
 You both are Riuals^and loqe Htrmmx 
 And now both Riualles, to mock Hc/ena* 
 A trim exploit^ a manly enterprife. 
 To coniure reares vp,in a poore maides eyes. 
 With yourderifion Nonejofnoblefort^ 
 
 Apoore foulespatiencc,alito make you fport. 
 
 Ly/htdy You arevnkinde, jD^iwf^r/w : be not fo. 
 For y oulpue //^rw«: this you know I know 
 And beare^ with all good will,with alimy heart;^ 
 In Hermiasloue ly eeldeyou vp my part: 
 And yours olHeUfta^ to mee bequeath: 
 Whom I doeloue, and will do till my death. 
 //)f/.Ncuerdid mockers wafte more idle breath. 
 Dem. Lyfandcr^z^t thy HermiA : I will none. 
 If ere I iou*d her^all that loue is gone. 
 
 El 
 
 My 
 
AMidlommer nightes dreamc* 
 
 My heart to her,but as gueftwifc , foiournd: 
 And now to Helen , is it home rctumd. 
 There lo remaine, 
 
 Lyf, Helen y \ t is not fo. 
 
 D^w^.DiTparage not the faith, thou doft not know; 
 Leaft to ihy perill, thou aby it dcarc, 
 Lookc where thy louc comes r yonder is thy dcare* 
 Enter Hermia. 
 Her» Darke night^that from the eye, his funiflion takes^ 
 The eare more quicke of apprehenhon makes* 
 Wherein it doth impairc the feeing fenfc, 
 It paycs the hearing double recompence. 
 Thou artnot,by myne eye, Lyfander^^om^ii 
 Mine eare^l thanke it3brought me to thy found. 
 But why^vnkindly.didrt thou leaue mce fo? 
 
 Lj(. Why fhouIdhcftay,whomloue doth prcflcto go? 
 //irr.What louc could prcffc Ljfander, from my fidef 
 Ljf, Lyfanders Ioue(th3t would not let him bide) 
 Fairc Helena : who more engiids the nighc 
 Then all yon fiery oes, and eyes of light. 
 Why fcek'fl thou mcfCould not this make thee know. 
 The hate I bare thee, made race leauc thee fof 
 Her, You fpcake not as you thinkc : It cannot bee. 
 HeL Lo : (he is one of this confederacy. 
 Now Iperceiue^thcy haue conioynd all three. 
 To fafliion this falfe fporr, in (pight of mee* 
 Injurious i/<?ri»w, moft vngratefull maide, 
 Haue you confpir*d,haue you with thefe contriu d , 
 To baite mec,wiih thisfoule dcrifionf 
 Is all the counfell that we two haue (har'dj 
 The fiflers vowes,the bowers that we haue fpent. 
 When we haue chid the hartie footed dmc^ 
 for parting vs; O , is all forgot? 
 aU fchooldaics frienci(hippe,chiIdhood innocence? 
 Wee, Hermia^ like two artificial) gods. 
 
AMidfommer nightes dreame. 
 
 Haue with our needles, created both one flower. 
 Both on one fampler, fitting on one cufhion. 
 Both waibling of one fong, both in one key; 
 AS if our hands,our fides, voyces,and mindcs 
 Had bin incorporate. So wee grcwe together. 
 Like to a double cherry, fecming parted; 
 But yet an vnion in partition, 
 Twolouely berries moulded on one flemme: 
 So with two Teeming bod ies,but one heart. 
 
 Two of the firft life coats in heraldry. 
 Due but to one,and crowned with one creaft* 
 And will you rent our auncient loue afunder, 
 Toioyne with men, in fecming your poorc friend? 
 
 Jtisnotfriendly^tisnot maidenly. 
 
 Ourrex,aswcllasIj may chide you for it; 
 
 Though 1 alone doe fclc the iniury. 
 Her A am amazed at your words: 
 
 J fcorneyou not^ltfcemes that you fcorne mce, 
 //>AKaue you not Ctt L^famUr jZsin fcorne^ 
 
 To follow mee, and praile my eyes and face? 
 
 And made your other loue, Demetriw 
 
 (Who euen but now did fpurne mee with his foote) 
 
 To call mee goddene,nymph,diuinc,andrare, 
 
 Pretious celeftlall? V Vherefore fpcakes he this, 
 
 To her hehatcs?Andwherfore doth Lyfander 
 
 Dcnyyourlouef^forich within his foule) 
 
 And tender mee(forfooth^afFe^on^ 
 
 Butby your fetting on,by yourconfent? 
 
 VVhatjthough 1 be not io in grace as you, 
 
 Sohung vpon with loue,(b fortunate^ 
 
 (Butmiferable moft, to loue vnlou'd ) 
 
 This you ftiould pittie^raiher then dcfpife. 
 Her, I vnderftand not ,whatyou mcane by this, 
 HeLliot. Pcrrcucr,counterfait fad lookes: 
 
 Make mouthesvponmee,whenlturncmy back: 
 
 Winke 
 
Ill.ii 
 
 239 
 
 243 
 
 247 
 
 AMidrommernightes dreame. 
 
 Winke each at other, fioldeihc fwcccte ieaft vp^ 
 This (port well carried, /hall bee chronicled. 
 If you haue any pitty,grace,or manners. 
 You would not make mecfuch an argument. 
 But fare ye well ; lis partly my ownc fault: 
 Which death^orabfcnce fooncfhall remedy. 
 
 Lyf ,Stsy ^gentle Hele»a : hcare my excule, 
 My loue^my life, my foule, faire HeUna, 
 
 H^/.O excellent/ 
 
 Herm^ Swcetc, doe not fcornc her fo* 
 'Dem. If flie cannot entreaty 1 can compcll. 
 
 i^/yTThoucanft compcll no more, then (he intreat. 
 Thy ihreatshaue no more ftrength then her weakc praifc. 251 
 ^kn^liout thee^ by my life I doe: 
 1 fweare by that which I will loofe for thee; 
 To prooue him falfe,that faiesi louc thee not . 
 
 Dem, I fay,T loue thee more then he can do, 255 
 
 hyf* If th ou fay fo, withdrawe, and prooue it to» 
 
 I>^«?.QuJckcome^ 
 
 Her ^Lj fancier, vi\itttio tends all this? 
 
 L)rf*Av/^Y3yonEthi!op4 259 
 
 !7>m,No,tio ;heele 
 Seeme to brcake loofe : take on as you would follow; 
 Bur yet come not« You are a tame man^go. 
 
 L/yT Hangofthoucat, thou bur : vile thing let looft; 263 
 Or I will fbakc thee from mee,like a ferpcnt. 
 
 Hir.Why arc you grovi^ncfo rude? What change is this, 
 Sweeteloue.^ 
 
 Lyf, Thy louef Out tawny Tartar^ out: 267 
 Out loathed medcine : 6 hated potion hence. 
 
 uer» Doe you not ieart ? 
 
 H^/, Ycsfooth J andfo doe you. 
 
 LyfDemetrius, I will keepe my word^with thee. 27/ 
 
 Dem^ I would I had your bond. For I perceiue, 
 A wcake bond holds you, He not truft your word* 
 
A Midlbmmcrnightes dreamc. 
 
 Lyf. Wbat^Hiould 1 hurt her, ftrikc her, kill her dead? 
 Although 1 hatehcrjllenorharmehcrfo, 
 
 H^r^ What? Canyou do me greater harme,then hate? 
 Hate mce^ whercforcfO me , what newes,iny loue^ 
 Am noli viermta} hv^not you Ljftf3derf 
 I am as faire now, as I was ere while. 
 Since nighr,youlou'd mee; yet fince night, you left mee. 
 Why then,you left mee (6 the gods forbid) 
 Incarneft,nialiirayf 
 L^f I , by my life: 
 
 And neucr did defirc to fee thee more* 
 Thefore be out of hopcj of queftion>of doubt; 
 Be certaine : nothing truer : tis no leaft 
 That I doe hate thce^and loue aeUm. 
 
 nef.O mee,you iugglcr^you canker blolibme. 
 You theefc ofloue s what^haue you come by nightj 
 And ftolne my loucs hearty from him? 
 
 Hc/. Fine, I faith. 
 Haueyou no mode fly, no maiden fhamc, 
 Notouchofbafiifuinefre? What^will youteare 
 Impatient anfwcres,from my gentle tongue? 
 Fy,fy3 you counterfaic^ you puppct^you, 
 
 ner. Puppet? Why fo? 1 y that way goes the game^ 
 Now I percciue that flic hath made compare, 
 Betweenc our flatures, (he hath vrg*d her height^ 
 And with her perfonagc, her tall perfonage^ 
 Her height('forfooth) (he hath preuaild with him» 
 And are you gtowne fo high in his eftecme, 
 Becaufel am fo dwarfifh and folowe? 
 Howiowe am \ ,thou painted May-pole?Speake: 
 HOW lowe am I flam not yet fo lowc^ 
 But that my nailescan reach vnto thine eyes* 
 H«?/. I pray you j though you mocke rae;gentleraanj 
 let her not hurt me^ I was neuer curft: 
 I hauc no gift at allin flirewiflinefre; 
 
 E4 / 
 
4 A i«AAW»XWAAAt&iVft «IAgAAWW9 UiCclUiC* 
 
 I am a right tnald/or my cowatdize: 
 Let her not ftrike mee.You perhaps.may thinke, 
 Bccaufe fhe is fomething lower then my fclfe^ 
 That lean match her. 
 
 ifmLowerf harke againe. 
 
 Hel. Good Hermia,AQ not be fo bitter with mee, 
 I cuermoredidloueyou//l?rww. 
 Did euerkcepcyourcounfels^ncucrwrongd you; 
 Saue th at in loue y vnto Demetrius ^ 
 I tould him of your flealth vnto this wood. 
 He followed you : for loue, I followed him. 
 But he hath chid me hence,and threatned mee 
 To ftrike mce,fpurne mee; nay to kill mee to» 
 And now/o you will let me quier goe^ 
 To Athens^'AX 1 beare my folly backe. 
 And follow you no further. Let me goe« 
 You fee how fimple^and how fond I am, 
 
 Herm,Whyf get you gon. Who ift that hinders youi 
 
 Hel^ A fbolifli heart^ihat 1 leaue here behindi 
 
 Her, What, with Lyfander? 
 
 Hel}JVilh Demetrius, 
 
 Lyf.Bc notafraid:ftie fhall not harme thee Hehm^ 
 Deme.lio fir : (he fhallnot, though you take her pa 
 HeL Oj when flie is angry^flicis keene and Hircwd, 
 
 She was a7ixen,when (he went tofchoolc : 
 
 And though flie be butlittle, ffie is fierce. 
 
 Her, Little againefNothing hut low and littlef 
 
 Why will you fuflfer her to floute me thus? 
 
 Let me come to her. 
 Lyf Gctyou gon, you dwarfe; 
 
 You OT/www^ofhindring knot grafTe^made; 
 
 You bead, you acome. 
 Deme^You are too officious. 
 
 Take 
 
m.ii 
 
 A Midfommertiiglitcs dreame. 
 
 Takcnot herpart . For ifihou doflimctid 
 Ncuerfo little fhcwcofloue to her, 
 Thouflialcabyk* 
 
 L;/* Now (h e holde s me not: 
 Now follow^ if thou d ar'ft,co try whofe right, 
 Ofthine or mine^is moft in Hehft/f* 
 
 Deme, Follow? N3y:lle go with thee, checkc by iowlet 
 
 H^r. You, miftrcffc,aU this coylc islongofyou* 
 Nay:goenotbackc. 
 
 Hf A 1 will not truft you,I, 
 Nor longer ftay in your curd company* 
 Your hands,than mine,are quicker for a fray: 
 My leggcs are longer though,to runnc away. 
 
 Her^ I am amaz'd, and know not what to fay «^ Exeunt^ 
 Oh^ Thisis thy negligence; ftillthou miftak^ft, 
 Orelfecommitdthy knaueries wilfully. 
 
 Tuck: Beleeue raee,king of fhado wes, T miftookc. 
 Did not you tell meej! fhoud know thcman. 
 By the Athenian g2Lm^iV[S^ he had on.^ 
 And/o farr eblamelefle prooues my cnterprifc. 
 That I hauc nointed an C/itheniam eyes: 
 And fo farrc am I gl ad^ itfo did fort > 
 As this their iangline X cftcemc a C^tt* 
 
 Ob^ Thou fc eft, thefc loucrs feekc a place tofight^ 
 Hy therefore Robin, ouercaft the nightj 
 The ftarry welkin coucr thou anon. 
 With drooping foggc asblackc as Acheron;^ 
 Andleadthefe teafty Riualsfo aftray. 
 As one come not within anotlicrs way, 
 Liketo Lyfandevt fometimc frame thy tongue: 
 Then ftirre DemetriH4\^,mi\\ bitter wrong; 
 And fometimc raile thou like Demetrinsi 
 Andfrom each other,lookc thou lead them thus; 
 Till ore their browes,death.countcrfaiting,flccpc, 
 With leaden lees,and Batty ^vings doth crccpc: 
 
 F Then 
 
A Midironimer nightcs drcame, 
 
 Then crufli this hearbe into LyfaMders eye; 
 Whofe liquor hath this vertuous property, 
 To take from thence all crrour,with his might, 
 And make his eycbalsroulc with wonted fight. 
 When they next wake, all this derifion 
 Shallfeeme a drcame,and fruitelcfle vifion, 
 Andbackc to Athens fh2L\\ the louers wend. 
 With Icaguc^whofe datc,till death Hiall neucr end^ 
 Whiles I, in this affairc,doe thee imploy, 
 He to my Queene and beg htt Indian boy: 
 And then I will her charmed eye rcleafe 
 From monflers viewe^and all things fhall be peace, 
 
 Pf4ck^ MyFaieryLord^thismuft be done with haflc- 
 Fornightsfwift Dragons cut the cloudsfuU hCt, 
 And vender fhincs ^^mvij harbinger : 
 Atwhofeapproach,Ghofts , wandringhere and there, 
 Troope home to Churchyardsrdamncd fpirits all; 
 Thatln croflc waies and floods haueburiall^ 
 Already to their wormy beds are gone: 
 Forfeareleaft day fliould looke their (hamesvpon, 
 Thev wilfully themfelues exile from light. 
 And muft for aye confort with black browed night, 
 
 OOer. But we are (pirits of another fort^ 
 I, with the mornings loue, haueoftmadcfport, 
 Andlikea forreftcr^thcgroues may tread 
 Euen till the Eafternegate all fiery red. 
 Opening on Neftutte^ with faire blcfled beamcs, 
 Tumcsjinto yellow golde^his fait greene ftreames^ 
 But notwiftanding, hafte, make no delay: 
 We may efFea this bufineffe, yet ere day. 
 
 P^.Vp & do wn,vp & down,l will lead them vp & down. 
 I amf card in field & town.(«?^/f»,lcad them vp & downe* 
 Here comes one. Enter Lyfandcr. 
 
 LypNhtrt art thou^proud DemetrwjfSptzk thou now^ 
 
 Itifp^ Herevillainc^dravvnc &ready. Whereart ihou? 
 
A Midfommernigmesdreome. 
 
 Lyf, I will be with thee ftraight, 
 
 Rob* Follow me then to plainer ground* 
 Enter Demetrius. 
 
 Deme. Lyfandcfi fpeake againe. 
 Thou runaway , thou coward ^ art thou fled? 
 Speake in fome bufh. Where doeft chou hide thy hcadf 
 Rottlhou coward art thou bragging,to the ftarres^ 
 Telling the bufties that thou look'ftfor warres. 
 And wilt not comef Come recreant^ come thou childe^ 
 ]le whippe thee with arodde.Heisdefird^ 
 That drawes a fword on thee> 
 
 P^*Yea,art thou there? 
 Ro, Follow my voicerweele try no manhood here* ExeUt* 
 
 Ljf, He goes before me^ and ftill dares me on; 
 When I come whcrchecalles^thenheisgon. 
 Thevillaineis much lighter heel'd then!; 
 I followed faft ; but faft er he did flyj 
 That fallen am I in darke vneauen way, 
 Andhere will reft me» Come thou gentle day» 
 For if but once, thou fhe we me thy gray light^ 
 lie findc DemetriuSy^nd reuenge this (pight. 
 Robin, rf«^Demetrius. 
 
 RobL Ho,ho,ho:Coward,why comft thou not? 
 
 Den^eM'ide me,if thou dar'ft.For well I wot. 
 Thou runft before niee,{hifting cuery place. 
 And dar*ft not ftand, nor lookc me in the facc^ 
 Where art thou now.' 
 
 i?*^. Come hither.' lam here • 
 
 2)^.Nay then thou mock ft me^Thou fbat buy this dear^ 
 If eucr I thy face by day light fee* 
 Now, goe thy way .Fain me ffc conftraineth mee. 
 To meafure^out my lengthjon this cold bed: 
 By daics approach lookc to be vifited. 
 
 Enter Helena* 
 Ife/e.O weary night, 01 ong and tedious night, 
 
 Fz Abate 
 
' o 
 
 Abate thy hourcs^ftiine comforts, from the eaft; 
 
 That I raaybackcto vif^m^by day light, 
 
 From thcfe that my poorc company detcft: 
 
 And ncepe,thatfometimcsfhutsvp (brrowcs eye, 
 
 Stealc mce a while from mine owne companie. Sleepe. 
 
 Rok Yet butthrecPCome one more^ 
 Two of both kindes makes vp fewer, 
 Hearc fhce comes, curft and fadde. 
 Cupid IS a knauifli ladde. 
 Thus to make poorc females madde^ 
 
 VLer, Neuer fo weary,ncuerfo in woe. 
 Bedabbled with the deaw,and tornc with briers: 
 lean no further era wic, no further goc: 
 My Icgges can keepc no pafc with my defircs. 
 Here will 1 reft mce, till the brcakc of day; 
 Heaucns fhicldc Lypinder^ if they meaae a fray. 
 
 Roh. On the ground^fleepe found: 
 lie apply your eye, gentle louer, remedy. 
 When thou wak'ft, thou tak'fl: 
 True delight, in the fight, of thy former ladies eye: 
 And the country prouerbe knowne^ 
 That euery man ftiouldtake his owne. 
 In your waking (hall be flio wen, 
 Jacke (Iiall hau e lilli nought fhall goe ill: 
 The man (hall haue his mare again,& all (hall be well. 
 Enter Queen e of Faieries, and Clorvne^and Faieries; W 
 the king hehindethentj. 
 
 7//^<i. Come fit thee downevpon this dowry bed. 
 While 1 thy amiable cheekcs doecoy> 
 And ftick musk rofes in thy fleekefmoothhcad. 
 And ki(re diy faire large carcs^my gentle ioy^ 
 
 C/<?»w.Where's Peafe^bhjjomef 
 
 ^<?/i.Ready, 
 
 C^w'.ScratchiTiyheade,7'<'w/i.^/<)»^/i/^>.Whcr'5Moun' 
 CKWiCotwehi Cc?l^,Rcady, 
 
do, Mounfieur CoM.^ood Mounfieur^gctyou you. 
 weapons in your h and. and kill me a red hipt Humble Bee, 
 on the coppc of a ihiftle : and good Mounfieur, bring mec 
 the honybagge. Doc notfretyourfelfc too much, in the 
 aaion, Mounfieur : and good Mounficurhauc a care, the 
 hony bagae breake not , I wold be loath to haue you oucr- 
 flowcn wiih a honibag fgnior, Where's Mounfieur M^f' 
 tardfeedet 
 
 CMufi. Rcadic, ,^ j « 
 
 ^/ff.Giuc mcyourncafe^Mounueur MHflardfcfde.VtVf 
 you,Ieaucyourcurtfie,good Mounfieur, 
 c^«/,what'syourwill? , , ^ , 
 
 Clo. Nothing good Mounfieur, but to helpcCaualery 
 Cohxfebbey tofcratch, I muft to the Barbers , Mounfieur, 
 For me thinkcs I am maruailes hairy about the fac e, Andl 
 amfuchatender Aflc, ifmy hairedoebut tickle noicc, I 
 muftfcratch. 
 
 77f^. What, wilt thou hearcfomcmufique, my iwcctc 
 louc? 
 
 Clo. I haue areafonable good care in mufique . Lets 
 
 haue the tongs, and the bones. 
 
 7)f 4. Or, fav fwectcloue, what rfiou dcfirea I o catc. 
 
 Clo Truclya'peckeofprouandcr.I could mounch your 
 cooddry Oatcs.Me thinkcs,! haue a great dcfire toabot, 
 tie of hay. Good hay, fwectc hay hath no fellow, (hoord, 
 
 7>. 1 haue a venturous Fairy, that fhali feelce the Squinls 
 Andfctch thee ne we nuts. . r 
 
 Clo, 1 had rather haue a handful!^ or two of dryed pealc. 
 But,l pray you.let none ofyour people ftirie me:lhaucan 
 cxpofuion of ilccpc come vpon mee, 
 
 7>M. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee m my armcs, 
 F aicries be gon, and be alwaics away. 
 So doth the woodbine, the fwectc Honifucklc, 
 Gently cntwift:the female luyfo 
 Eniings the barky fingers of the Elmc, 
 
\j now J louc thcej how I dote on thcc/ 
 £»rfr Robin goodfcllow* 
 Oh. Welcome good 2^^w^Seeft thou this fweeie fight 
 Her dotage now I doe beginnc to pittie. 
 For meeting her ofIate,bchindethc wood. 
 Seeking fwecte fauours for this hatefull foole^ 
 I did vpbraid her, and fall out with her* 
 For (he his hairy temples then had rounded^ 
 With coronet offre/h and fragrant flowers. 
 And that fame dea wc which fometime on the buddc$> 
 Was wont to fwell, like round and orient pearlcs; 
 Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes. 
 Like teares,that did their owne difgrace bewailc. 
 Whenl had, at my pleafure,tauntcd her, 
 A nd fhe, in milde te armes,begd my patience, 
 I then did aske of her, her changeling childe: 
 Which flraightflie gauc mce,and her Fairy fenC 
 To bcare him, to my bower, in Fairie lancL 
 And now I haue th e boy, I will vndoc 
 This hatefull imperf e(5lion of he r cy es. 
 And, gentle Pfic^, take this transformed fcaipe. 
 From of thcheadc of this Atheman fwaine; 
 That hee,awaking when the other do. 
 May all to Athens backe againe repaire, 
 Andthinkeno more of this nights accidents^ 
 But as the fearcc vexation of a dreame* 
 But firft I will rcleafe thcfiiry Qijeenc, 
 
 Be,as thou waft wont to beet 
 
 See, as thou waft wont to fee. 
 
 Dt4m budde, or Cjir;>/^/ flower. 
 
 Hath fuch force,and bicflcd power* 
 Now,my Titansa^ wake you ,my fwecte Qiieene. 
 
 Tita^ My 0^^r<?«,what vifions haue I feene/ 
 Me thought Iwasenamourdofan Aflet 
 O^.Thcrc lyes your louc. 
 
A Midfbmmernightes dreamCt 
 
 Tita.How came thcfc things to parte? 
 O, how mine eyes doe loath his vifagc now/ 
 
 OK Silence a while. ^o^w, take ott this head: 
 Titan 'ta , muficke call, and ftrike more dead 
 Then common flccpe : of all thefe, fine the fenfc. 
 T/. Mufick^howe muficktfuch a$charmcthfleepe/pccpc, 
 
 Rob^ Now, when thou wak'R, with thine ownfools eyes 
 
 O^.Sound Mufick!Come,my queen,take hands with me» 
 And rocke the ground whereon thefc Oeepers be. 
 No w,thou and I arc newjin amltie, 
 And will to morrow midnight, folemnely 
 Pauncc, inDuke Thefefuhoufc triumphantly^ 
 And blcffc it to all faire profperitic* 
 There ihall the paires of faithful! iouers be 
 Wedded, with ThefetUy^A in iollitie* " ' 
 
 Rob, Fairy King,attend, and marke: 
 I do heare the morning Larke. 
 
 O^^Then my Queene,in filcnce fad^ 
 Trippc we after nights ftiade: 
 We, theGlobc,can compaflc foone^ 
 Swifter then the wandring Moone. 
 
 T/M,Come my Lord,and in our flight. 
 Tell me how it came this night. 
 That I flceping here was found. 
 
 With thcfe mortals on the ground^ Exeunt^ 
 EnterThckusafjdaH his traine^ VP^wde borne, 
 
 rhe^Goc oneofyou,finde out thcforrellcr: 
 For now our obfcruation is performde. 
 And fince we haue the vaward ofthe day. 
 My louc fliali heare the muficke of my hounds^ 
 Vncouplc^in the weftcrnc valliejet them goe: 
 Difpatchl fay, and findetheforrefter, 
 Wee will/aire Queene,vp to the mountaincs toppe^ 
 And marke the muficall confufion 
 Ofhounds andEchoin coimind^ioQ. 
 
 P4 Mffoii, 
 
A Midfommer nightcs drcame* 
 
 HfpA was with Hennics and Cadrntis^ oncc^ 
 When in a wood ofCrcete they bayed the Bcarc, 
 With hounds of Sparta : ncucr did 1 hcarc 
 Such gallant chiding. For befidcs the groucs. 
 The skycs,thc fountaincs^euery region neaic 
 SeemealionciDutuail ciy«I neuer heard 
 So muHcall a dtfcord^ ruchfweecethunder* 
 
 7'A</,My hounds are bred out of the Spartane kindc: 
 So flcw'd, Co fandcd.' and their heads are hung 
 V Vith carcs^that fwcepe away the morning deawc^ 
 Crookc knecdj and deawlapi^like Thejfaliaft Buls: 
 Slowe in purfuit; but matchtin mouth like bcls^ 
 Bach vnder each. A cry more tunable 
 Was neuer hollowd to^nor chcerd with home, 
 InCreeu^'mSfarta^tiOt inTheJfafy. 
 ludgc when you hcare^ But fo^What ny raphes are thcfc? 
 
 E^^.My Lord^this my daughter heccc a flcepe. 
 And this Lyfiifulery this DemetriMts, 
 This Helena^ old Nedars Helena. 
 I wonder of their being here together^ 
 
 TTf^.No doubt,they rofevp carcly^toobferuc 
 The right of May : and hearing our intent^ 
 Came hecre,m grace of our fblcmniiie. 
 But fpcakc, Egeusy is not this the dav, 
 Thet Hermia fliould giue anfwer of her choy cc? 
 
 Bgeus^ It is, my Lord. (liomcs, 
 
 ^hefe. Goe, bid the hunrfmen wake them with their 
 Shome within : they aUflart vp, ffmde homes, 
 
 T&^* Good morrow, fi:iends.5aintfV(?;/fwispaft- 
 Begin thefe woodbirdsbut to couple,now.^ 
 
 ^^'/^Pardon, ray Lord« 
 
 The. I pray you all, ftand vp. 
 fkno w,you two are Riuali enemies* 
 How comes this gentle concordin the woflde. 
 That hatted isfoFarrerromiealou(ie» 
 
 To 
 
To fleepe by hate, andfeareno cnoiitie^ 
 LyfMy Lord,I iliaircply amazcdly, 
 
 Halfe flecpc, halfe waking.But,as ycc.I fwcarc, 
 
 Icaimottruclyfayhowlcame hcrc^ 
 
 But as I thinkc (forirucly would 1 fpeake) 
 
 And now I doc bechinke mcc/o it is; 
 
 I came with H^rmia^hithtt^Out intent 
 
 Was to be gon ftrom /ifhens:vfhctc we might 
 
 Without the pcrill of the tAthenian lawc^ 
 E^e^ Enough,cnough my Lord : you hauc enough, 
 
 I bcggc the la w,the law, vpon his head: 
 
 They would haueftolneaway^they wouldj Demetrius^ 
 
 Thereby to haue defeated you and me: 
 
 You of your wife,and mce, of my confcnt: 
 
 Of my con(ent >that fhc fiiould be your wife. 
 
 Deme. My Lord jfairc Helen told mc of their ftealth, 
 Of this thcit purpofchither, to this woodj 
 And linfuryhitherfollowcdthcm; 
 Fairc He/eMfXn fancy following mcc 
 But my good Lord^I wotenot by what power 
 (But by fomc powerit is^my loue, 
 ToHermiafmeitcdzs theibowe^ 
 Secmes to nic nowas the remembrance of an idle gaude^ 
 Which in my childehoode I did dote vpon: 
 And all thefaith,the vcrtuc of my heart. 
 The obie^ and the pleafure of mine eye, 
 1$ ontly viclefta»To hcr^my Lord, 
 Was I betrothed, ere I ice Her mia: 
 But,likeaficknefle,didlloaththi$foodc. 
 Buc,as in health>come to my naturall izRc^ 
 Nowl doe wifli it,loue it^long for it. 
 And will for euermore be true to it. 
 
 ne» Faire Iouers,y ou are fortunately met^ 
 Of diis difcourfc^wc more wili here anon. 
 
. . .... *...4V1 Uigwuvu ^*v*E*-v. 
 
 2geuyy I will oucrbearc your will: 
 
 For in the Temple, by and by, with vs, 
 
 Thcfc couples fhall eternally be knit. 
 
 And, for the morning now is fomthinjg wome. 
 
 Our purpoPd hunting (hall be fet alide. 
 
 Away , with vs^to ^f^w. Three and three, 
 
 Weeleholde a feaft,in great folcmnitic. Come Hyppolitd. 
 
 Deme^ Thefc thin gs fee me fmall and yndiHinguifhable, 
 Likefarre ofTniountaines turned into clouds, 
 
 HerM^ thinks J fee thefe th ings, with parted eycj 
 Wheneueiy thing fcemes doubly 
 
 So mcethinkes: 
 And I hauc fontid Demetritis^l^t a Icwcil^ 
 Mine owne,and not mine ownc* 
 
 Dem, Areyoufure 
 That we arc awakc/It fcemes to me. 
 That yet we flecpe, we drcame Do notyouthinke. 
 The Duke was here, and bid vs foUowhim/ 
 
 -Wfn Yea, and my father. 
 
 MeL And HyffoUta^ 
 
 JL;/'Andhe did bid vs follow to the Temple, 
 I><?w.Whythcn,weareawakc:lets folio whim, and by 
 the way lets recount our drcaroes, 
 
 C/d.WhcnmycuccomeSjCall mee,andl will anfwerc^ 
 My next is, moft faire "Pyramm^ Hey ho, l^eeter Quwcef 
 i%tff,thcbeIlowesmender55w^/ the tinker? Starudmf 
 Gods mylife/Stolnehence,and left meea fleepcflhauc 
 had amoftrarevifion. Ihauehada dreame^paftthc wit 
 ofman, to fay; what drcame it was.Man is but anAflc, if 
 bee goe about expound this dreame. Mc thought I was, 
 thereis no man can tell what. Me thought J was , and mc 
 tboughtrhad. But manis but paichtafoole. If heewill 
 offer to fay, what mee thought I had. Thecye of man 
 hath not heard, the care of man bath notJecnc, mans 
 
 hand 
 
A Midiommermgiuesuicciiiic. 
 
 hand is nocablciotaftc, his tongue to conceiue, nor his 
 heartc to report, what my dreamc was, I will get P<r- 
 terQtiince lo write a Ballet of this dreamc : it (hall be 
 caird 'Bottoms l>teame\ bccaufe it hath no bottome : and 
 I will fingit in the latlercndofaPlay^beforc the Duke, 
 Peraduemurc,tomak€itihemoregratious3 1 (hall fing 
 it at her deaths 
 
 Bnter Quince, Flute, IVx^y andtherMh^ 
 Quiff. Haue you fcnt to Bottoms houfe? Ishe come 
 homely ct? 
 
 Flup^ Hcc cannotbc heard of. Out ofdoubtheistranf- 
 portcd» 
 
 Thyf. If heccomenot,thenthcPlayismard. It goes 
 not forward.Dothit? 
 
 Qffifj, It is not pofliblc. You haue not a man^in all ^- 
 the?ff yM^io difchargc PytAmuf, buthe. 
 
 thjf. No, hcehath fimplythebcft wit of any handy* 
 craft man, in ^/W. , , . 
 
 Q^n. Yea, and the bcft pcrtonto, and heeis a very 
 Paramour, for a fwcetc voice. 
 
 Thif, Youmuftfay, Paragon. A Paramour is f God 
 bleffc vs)a thing of nought, 
 
 Enter%m%ytheIoyntu 
 
 Snug^ Matters, the Duke is comming from the Tem- 
 ple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more 
 married. If our fport had gon forward, wee had all 
 beenc made men, 
 
 T^hyf, O fwcctc bully Bottome, Thus hath hcc loft fix 
 pence aday,during his life: hcc couldcnot haue fcaped 
 fixe pence a day . Andthc Duke had not giuen himfix 
 pence a day, for playing l^yramftt , lie be hanged. 
 He would haue dcfcrucd it.Sixpcnceaday^inP/^'tfww^ 
 G2 or 
 
or nothing, 
 
 ^/r^rr Bottom. 
 Bot, Where arc thcfe lads? Where are thcfc harts? 
 Quiff, "Boftom.b moG: couragious day/O nioft happy 
 
 &>//,MaftcrsJ am todifcourfc wonders : but askc me 
 not what . For if I tell you,l am not true j^thettiaH. I will 
 tell you eucry thing right as it fell out. 
 
 Qjfin, Let vshearc,Kvecte.9tf/ww* 
 
 -S<?NNot a word of mee. All that I will tell you,is , that 
 the Duke hath dined. Get your apparrcll together , good 
 firings to yourbeardcs, new ribands to yourpumpes, 
 meetc prefeotly at the palace,euery manlooke ore his part' 
 For,thefhort and the long is,oijrpIay is prcferd. In any 
 cafe let Th't[hj/ haue cicane linnen : and let not him ,that 
 plaics the Lyon, pare bisnailes: for they (hali hang out 
 for the Lyons clawcs. And moft dcare Actors, eate no 0-» 
 nions, norgarlicke.'forwe are to vtterfwcetc breath : and 
 Ido not doubt but to hear them fay^it is a fwcctc Comedy. 
 No more wordes*Away,goaway. 
 
 Ew/frThcfeus^ Hyppolita, WPhiloftrate, 
 
 H/;>, Tis ftrange,niy Thefcus^ihzi thcfe louers fpcakc of* 
 
 T^r.More ftraungethentrue^ Ineucr maybeleeue 
 Thcfe aiitiquefables^nor thcfe Fait)- toyes» 
 Louers^and mad men haucfuch fcething braines^ 
 Such fhaping phantaftcs,that apprehend more. 
 Then coolc reafon cuer comprehends*Tbc Iunaticfc> 
 The louer, and the Poet arc of imagination all compa(fl» 
 One fees more diuels,thcn vaft hell can holder 
 That is the mad man^ Thelouer^ali as frantick. 
 Sees Helen t beauty in a browofe/!£g'^pr* 
 The Poets cye,in a fine frenzy, rolling,doth glance 
 From heauen to earth/rom earth to hcauen. And as 
 Imagination bodies forth the form cs of things 
 
 Vn« 
 
A Midiommcrnigiicci' uicaiuc. 
 
 Vnknownc : the Poets pcnncturncs ihcm to ftapes. 
 And eiucsto aycry nothing, a locall habitation, 
 Andanamc.Suchirickeshathl^rongimaginaiion, 
 That ifit would but apprehend fome ioy. 
 It comprehends fome bringcr ofthat ioy. 
 Orintlicnightjimaginingfomc feare, 
 Howeafic is abu(h fuppofMaBcare? 
 
 Bureau the ft ory of the night told ouer. 
 And all their minds transfigured fo together. 
 More wit^icfTeth than fancies images. 
 And growesto fomething of great conftancy: 
 Buthowfoeuer,ftrangcandadmirablc, ^ 
 Enter Loners ; Ly fander ,Demetrius^ermia 4ffd 
 Helena. 
 
 rhe. Here come the loucrs, full of ioy andmirth. 
 loy^gentlefiiendsjioy and frcfh dales 
 Of loue accompany your hearty. 
 
 LyfUoTC then to vs, waitc in your royall walkesj your 
 
 boordcyourbcdde. a.^n^"^' 
 T/&^,Comenow!whatniaskcs^ what dauncesihaJl wee 
 To weareaway this long age of three hours,betwcenc 
 Or after fuppcr, & bed-time/ Wh ere isour vfuall manager 
 OfmirthfWhatRcuelsareinhandr^Ischerenoplay, 
 To eafe the anguifh ofa corcuring howcrf Call PhihJIrau. 
 
 Ti&^Say,wh3tabridgcmenthaue youtorthis cucningf 
 What maske,what muficke? how fhail we beguile 
 The lazy tymejif not with fomcdelight? 
 
 Phi/oft^ There is abriefe,how many fports are ripe^ 
 Make choycc,ofwhich your Highneffe will fee firft. 
 
 T/&f .The battell with the ctntanresio be fung. 
 By an Athenim Eunuchc, to the Harpe? 
 Week noneof that Jhat hauc Icolde my louc. 
 In glory of my kinfman HermUs^ 
 The ryot of the tipfic Bachands^ 
 
Tearing the TiErr4f/<i» finger, Jn their rage? 
 That is an olde dcuifc : and rt was plaid. 
 When I from Thebes came Jaft a conquercn 
 The thrifc three Mufes, mourning for the death 
 Oflcarning^Iatcdeceaft^in bcggery? 
 That is Tome SatirektCM and cricicall, 
 Notforiing with a nuptiall ceremony. 
 A tedious briefe Scene o(youn^Tjramfif 
 And his louc rhi/hj^i very tragicall mirth ? 
 Mcrry,andtr3gicall?Tedious,and bricfef Thatishot Ife, 
 And wodrous Orange fnow.How ihall we find the cocord 
 Of this difcord? 
 
 Philojt^ A Play there is,my Lord, feme ten words longj 
 Which is asbriefe^as I haueknowne a play; 
 Butjby ten words^my Lord it is too Jong: 
 Which makesit tedious* For in all the Play, 
 There is not one word apt, one player fi itcd» 
 And tragicall, my noble Lord^it is. For Pyramus^ 
 Therein, doth kill himfclfe. Which when I faw 
 Rehearft^I muft confcfle, made mine eyes water; 
 But more merry tcares the paflion of loud laughter 
 Ncuer flicd^ 
 
 7he\e^ What are they^that doc play it? 
 
 VhiU Hard handed mcn^that worke in Athent here^ 
 Which neucrlabour'd in their minds till now: 
 And now haue toyled theirvnbreathed memorieti 
 With thisfame Play^againf) your nuptiallt 
 
 T^^. And wee will hcare it. 
 
 ^hu No,my noble Lord,it is not for you. I haue heard 
 Itouer,andit is nothing, nothing in the world; 
 Vnlefleyou can finde^ortin thcircntcnts, 
 Extrcamcly flrctcht,and cond with cruellpaine^ 
 To do you (eruicc. 
 
 T/&^ J will heare thatplay.Forneucr any thing 
 Can be amlffe^when fimplcneflc and ducty tender if ♦ 
 
 Goc 
 
Goc bring them inland take your places^Ladics. 
 
 I loue not to fee wrctchedncflc orccharged; 
 Andducty^mhisfcruicc^pcrifhing. 
 
 T/&<f.Why,gcntle fwcctc,you fhall fee no fuch thing. 
 
 HipMc fayes^ they can doc nothing in thiskindc. 
 
 The, The kinder we,togiuc them thanks, for nothing. 
 Our fport flhall be,io take wh a t they mift ake. 
 And what poorc duty cannot doe, noble rcfpcft 
 Takes it in might, not merit. 
 Where I haue come, great Cierkes haue purpofed 
 To grectc me, with premeditated welcomes; 
 Where ihauc fcene them fliiuerand iooke pale, 
 Make periods in the raidft of fcntcnccs. 
 Throttle their prad^iz'd accent in their feares. 
 And in conclufion dumbly haue broke ofl; 
 Not paying mcc a welcome. Truft mc, fwcctc. 
 Out ofthis filence^yet, I pickt a welcome: 
 And in the modcfty of fearefull duty, 
 I read as mueh^ as fro m the rattling tongue 
 Of faucyand audacious eloquence « 
 Loue, tnereforc,and tong-iide fimplicity. 
 In Icafl, fpcake moft,to my capacity* 
 
 Thihfl. So pleafe your Grace, the Prologue is addrcft, 
 
 Duki^J^t him approach* 
 
 Enter the Prologue^ 
 
 Pr». If wee ofFend^it is with our good wHU 
 That youfliouldthinke, we come not to offend. 
 But with good will. To Qie w our fimplc skillj 
 That is the tme beginning of our end, 
 Confidcrihen^we come but in defpight. 
 We doc not come,as minding to content you. 
 Our true intent is. a11 for your delight. 
 Wee arc not here, xhatyou (houldherc repent you. 
 The A^ors arc at hand : and,by their fliowe, 
 Youfliall know all, that you are like to knowe, 
 
 G4 ihe. 
 
T/;tf.This fcllovv doth not ft and vpon pointer 
 hyf^ He hath ridhis Prologue, like a rough Colte : hcc 
 knowcs not the ftoppc, A good moralltnj I ord. It is not 
 enough to fpeakc ; but to Jpcakc true. 
 
 Indeed he hath plaid on this Prologue, like a child 
 on aRccordcr,afound; but not in goucrncment. 
 
 ihe^ HIS fpcach was like a tangled Chainc; nothing ina- 
 paircd,but all difordcred. Whoisncxt? 
 
 £«/^rPyramu5, andThishy ,/if7d WalI,<i»^iMoone- 
 fliine,WLyon. 
 
 ?YologU€. Gcntlcs,perclianceyou wonder at this fhow 
 Bur,wonder on,till truthe make all things plainc» 
 This man is /'^r^wwi /if you would knowe: 
 This beautious Lady Thfi^y is certainc. 
 This man, with lymcandroughcaft,dothprcfent 
 Wall^that vile wall,which did thcfelouersfuDder: 
 And through wals chinkc, poore fouIes,thcy arc content 
 To whifper. At the which ,let no man wonder. 
 This raan,with iantetne, doggc,and bufh of thornc, 
 Prcfenteth moone-ftiine.For ifyou will know^ 
 By moone^fhinc didthcfc louers thinke no fcorne 
 To mcetc at Ninns tombe, there, there to wooe# 
 This grisrJy bcaft (which Lyon hight by name) 
 Th e trufty rhj /^/, com m ing firft by night. 
 Did fcarre away^or rather did affiright: 
 And as (he fled, her mantle fiie did fall: 
 Which Lyon vile with b/oody mouth didflafne. 
 Anon comes Pjramtu, fweete youth^ and tall. 
 And findes his trufty Thijhycs mantle flaine: 
 Whcrcar^with b!ade,with bloody blamefull blade. 
 He braucly broach t his boyling bloody brcaft. 
 And Thffi/y tary ing in Mulberry fliade, 
 n]s dagger dre we, and dyedL For all the reft> 
 Let LyoTt, Moone^Jhine^all^ and louers twairic^ 
 At large difcourfe,whilcbcrc they doe reniainc. 
 
A Midfommer nightes dreame. 
 
 The. 1 wonder,if the Lyon be to fpeake. 
 
 Dm^r, No wonder, oiy Lord. One Lyon may* when 
 many AflTes doe. 
 
 Exit Ly on,Thysby, and Moonelhine* 
 
 WaU. In thisfame enterlude it doih befall. 
 That I,one Flute (h^ name) prefent a wall: 
 And fuch a wall, as I would haue you thinke 
 That had in it a aanied hole or cbinkc: 
 Through which the louers,P^4«?«j,and Tbisby, 
 Did whifper often, very fecretly. 
 This iome, this roughcaft,and this ftone doth (howe. 
 That I am that fame wall : the truth is fo. 
 And thisthe cranie is, right andfinifter. 
 Through which thefearefulllouersareto whifper. 
 
 7i&^. Would you defirclime andhaire to fpeake better? 
 
 *Deme. It is the wittieft partition, thateucrl heard dif- 
 courfe,myLord- 
 
 The.Vjramiis drawcs ncare the walhiilencc. 
 
 ?r. O grim look night,o night,with huefo blacke, 
 O nlghr,which euer art, when day is not; 
 
 0 nigbi,0 night, alacke, alacke, alacke, 
 
 1 feare my Th'tsbyes ^iovaS^ is forgot. 
 And thou 6 wall, 6 fwecte, 6 loucly wall. 
 
 That ftandftbetwceneher fathers ground and mine> 
 Thouwall,6wal!,0 fweete and louely wall, 
 Showe mee thy chinke, to blink through,with mine eync, 
 Thankcscurtcous waU./<?/^^rtiieldihee well,for this. 
 ButwhatfeelfNor^^/y^rdoelfee. 
 O wicked wall , through whome I fee no bhlie, 
 Curftbethyfloncsjforthusdeceiuingmee^ 
 The, The wall mee thinkes,be!ngfenfible,aiould curie 
 
 ^^Fjr No,in truth Sir,he fliould v^ox.Dectmng met is 
 T/^/^KJ cue :{he is toentcrnow,andI am tolpy 
 Her throughthewalKYoufliall feeitwillfatt 
 
n miuiuuuucrnigntes a reame. 
 
 Patasrtoldyoujyonderftecomcs* emerrhifhy, 
 T^i/;Owall,fuIlortcnhaft thouheard mymoncs* 
 Forpattmgi7>yraireP/r^»7«f,and mec. 
 My cherry lips haue often kiH thy flones; 
 Thy ftoncs^withlime andhayircknicnow againe, 
 
 Pyra,lkfi a voice : now will I to the chinke. 
 To fpy and 1 can heare my Thifhyes face, rhyhy} 
 thif. My loue thou art, my louc I thinke. 
 vy. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy louers Grace: 
 And, iike Limander^ am I trufty ftill. 
 th'tf, Andl,like HeUn.m the fates mekill, 
 vyra, NotShafa/zij^to prccrfUyWSiS fo true. 
 r^/fAs ShafalusKo Proems^ I to you. 
 Pjrr, O kiffe mce, through the hoJcofthis vildc wall- 
 TO/, Ikiffc the waIIeshoIe;nocyourlipsacaJl, 
 pyr. Wilt thou, at Arf»w^»/tombe,mcetc mc ftraight way' 
 thy, Tjde life, tydc death, I come without delay. 
 Wj/. Thus hauc I , Wall, my part difchargcd fo; 
 A«d, bang done, thus wall away doth goe. 
 ^i^W^owis theMoon vfcd betwects the twoneighbors. 
 JJeme, Noremedy,my Lord,when walsarefo wilfulLto 
 hcarc without warning. 
 
 J^fach. r\m is the fillicft Huffe^that euer I heard. 
 D/^^^. The beft, in this kinde^ arc but fhadowcs : and 
 the worft are no wor% ifiraagination amend them. 
 
 t muft be your imagination,thcn;& not theirs, 
 /^4^e.jfwe imagine no worfcofrhcm,theo they of the- 
 
 lelucs,theyrȣ>ypaneforcxccllcntmcn.Hcrc come two 
 noble beafts, in a man and a Lyon. 
 
 £«f^r Lyon, ^izriMoonc-lhine. 
 Jl^^?' X^" Ladics,youf whofc gentle hearts do fcarc 
 Tncfmanen monftrousmoufe, that crecpcson floorej 
 May now,perchance, both quake and tremble here. 
 When Lyon rough, in wildeft rage, doth roare. 
 Then know that 1, as5«//j: the loyner am 
 
A Midfommernightesdreame. 
 
 A Lyon fcJI, nor dfc no Lyons damme, 
 
 For,if I fljould^as Lyon, come in rtrifc. 
 
 Into this placcj 'twere piety on my life, 
 
 A very gentle bcaft, and of a good confdcnce. 
 Deme. The very beft at a bcaft,my Lord^that ere Ifa w. 
 Ly[. This Lyon Is a very fox,for his valour, 
 2);/^* True : and a goofe for his difcretion, 
 
 X)^',NotromyLord.Forhisvalourcannotcarryhisdif-r 
 cretion :and the fox carries the goofe. 
 
 Hisdifcrction,Iamfurc,cannotcarryhis valour. 
 For the goofe carries not the fox. It is well ; Icaue it to his 
 difcretion,and let vs liften to the Moone. 
 -<^<7ff»ir.Thislanthornedoththehomed moone prcfent, 
 2><?)»e4HefhouIdhaue wornc the horncsjonnishcad. 
 
 X)«^.Heis nocrefcent,andhis homes are inuifiblc^withr 
 in the circumference, 
 
 Afoorte^YWis lanthorne doth the horned moone prcfent. 
 My felfe^thc manith Moone,doe fcemc to be, 
 
 Duke/rhis is thegreateft crrourofallchercfl;themaa 
 ftould beput into the lanthorne^Howisit clfc the man ith 
 Moonef 
 
 Dj/w^/^e dares not come there/or the candJe . For, 
 you fee, it is already in fnuffe. (change, 
 
 ^utch, I am aweary of this Moone . Would hec woulde 
 
 Dukf, It appearcs,by his fmall light of difcrction , that 
 hee is in the wane shut yet in curtefic, in all rcafon.wce 
 muft flay the time, 
 
 •^7y^««Proceedc, Moonct 
 
 Moo», All that I hauctofay,istotelIyou, that the Ian- 
 thorneisthcMoone^Ithemanith Moone,thisihornebulh 
 my thornc bufh, and this doggc my dogge» 
 
 Dme. Why/All thefefhould be in the lanthorne : for all 
 ibcle arc in the Moone, Butfilcncc : here comes T/^z/^r^ 
 £«wThifby, 
 
 TAJhis is ould Nmhs lumbe. Where is my lout?Lyon,OK 
 
 ^ * DmctrtM 
 
AMidibmmer nightes drcamc. 
 
 Dem, Well roard, Lyon. 
 Dttke^ WeIlrunne,T^/r/4;'» 
 
 Dmchejfe^ ^Wihoxxt Mooffe,rtu\y,Khc Mootie ftiincs, 
 with a good grace. 
 
 2>«4» Well mouz'd, Ljio»^ 
 
 D cm. And then came Pyram^u, 
 
 Z^//* And fo the Lyon varii&t. 
 
 £»^frPyramus. 
 Pyr Swecte Moone^Ithanke thee/or thy funny beams. 
 I thanke chee^ Moone^forfhining now fo brighr. 
 For by thy grat'ious golden^ glittering bcamcs, 
 I tru(t to take of irueft yhifby fight. 
 But ftay : oTpight/ but marke,poore knight. 
 What dreadfull dole is heref 
 Eyes do you fee/ How can it beei 
 O dainty duck, o deare/ 
 Thy mantle good, what, ftaind with blood? 
 Approach ye Furies fell, 
 O fates come,come, cut thread and thrumme, 
 Quaile,ctufli, conclude, and quelU 
 
 Dnke. This paffion,^ the death of a dearefriend would 
 goeneereto make a man iooke fad» 
 Dutch. Befhre we my hearty but I pitty the man* 
 Pjrr, O, wherefore^ Nature^didft thou Lyons fraraef 
 Since Lyon vilde hath here dcflour'd my deare. 
 Which is^no^ no ; which wasthe faireft dame 
 That h'u'd, that lou'd, that iik't,that look'i with cheere. 
 Come teares,confound^ outfword, and wound 
 Thcpappeof Pyrammi 
 I, that leftpappe, where heart doth hoppe* 
 Thus dy I, thus,thus,thus. 
 
 No w am I dead, now am I fled, my foule is in the sky» 
 Tongueloofethy light, Moonetakc thy flight. 
 Now dy,dy,dy,dy^dy, 
 Dm^bio Die, but an ace for him«For he is butone^ 
 
A Midfommer nightes drcame. 
 
 Z,>/. lefle then an ace,nian. For he is dead,he is nothing. 
 
 Dukf* With the helpe of a Surgcon,he might yet rcco- 
 ucr^and yet prooue an AiTe* 
 
 Z>/y^ How chance Moone-fhine is gone before !r^t/6y 
 comes backe^and findesher!ouer> 
 
 Duk; Shee will findehim, by ftarre-light, Hcie fihee 
 cotTies,andherpafIion ends the Play, 
 
 2)«jjMetbinkes^fhe fhouldnot vfealongone, forfuch 
 HTvr^H^ : I hope,{he will be briefe* 
 
 Demet. A moth will turne the ballancejwhich "^yramHs^ 
 which TJ&i/^is the better : hefor a man ; God warnd vs : 
 fhe/or a womanjGod blefle vs. 
 
 Z.7/:Shchathfpiedhim already, with thofe fwceteeycs^ 
 
 ©fWje'^Andthusfbcmeanes, viielicet\ 
 
 rks, A fleepe my loue? What, dead my doue? 
 
 Speake/pe ake. Quite dumbefDead^deadUtumbe 
 
 Muft coucr thy fweetc eyes. 
 
 Therelilly lippes, this cherry nofe, 
 
 Thercyellow cowflippecheekes 
 
 Arc gon, are gon : louers make mone: 
 
 HIS eyes were grcene, as leekes, 
 
 O fiftcrsthree^comejcome.tomee. 
 
 With hands as pale as milke. 
 
 Lay them in gore^finceyou bauefhore 
 
 With aieercs,bisthrecdeof filke. 
 
 Tongue, not a word : come ttufty fword. 
 
 Come blade,mybreaft imbrew: 
 
 And rarewellfricnds:thusT^;/^7 ends; 
 
 Adieu^adieu,,adieu. jl j j 
 
 D«ir,(^^6«f?-A/>j^a3d tj'^^warelefttobuty the dead* 
 
 Lyon. No^laffureyou^thewallisdowne, that parted 
 tlieir fathers. Will it plcafe you^to fee the Epilogue,or to 
 beate a Basomaske dauncc^bctwcen two of our copany? 
 ^ Hj ^^^^ 
 
A Midfommcr nights drcamc. 
 
 Duke^ No Epilogue, Ipray you* For your Play needs no 
 excufc. Ncuer cxcufe: For when the Players are all dcade, 
 there nccde none to be blamed. Mary, ifhee that writ it, 
 had played T/Mw^y^andhangdhimfelfe in Thi[hies gar- 
 ter^ it wouldfaaucbcene a fine Tragedy : and foit is trucly, 
 and very notably difcharg'd.Butcome your Burgomaskej 
 let your Epilogue alone. 
 The iron tongue ofmidnighchath toldetwelae. 
 Loners to bed^tis almofl Fairy time. 
 I feare we fliall outfleepe the comming mornej 
 As much as wee thisnighthaue ouerwatcht. 
 This palpable groffe Play hath well beguiPd 
 The hcauie gate of night. Sweete friends, to bed* 
 , A fortnight holde we this folemnitie. 
 In nightly Rcucls, and new iollity , Bxemt* 
 
 *?»r;^.Now thchungry Lyonsroares, 
 And the wolfe beholds the Moonej 
 Whilft the heauie ploughman fnores> 
 All with weary taskeforedoone. 
 Now the wafted brands doe glowc, 
 Wh lift the fcriech-owle,fcricchinglowd. 
 Puts the wretch^thatlyes in woe. 
 In remembrance of a fhrowde* 
 Now it is the time of night. 
 That the graues, all gaping wide, 
 Euery one lets forth his fprigh t. 
 In the Church way paths to glide. 
 And wee Fairies, that doe runne^ 
 By the triple Hecates teame. 
 From the prcfence oftheSunne^ 
 Following darkeneflelike a drcame. 
 Now areffoHicfc:not a moufe 
 Shali difhirbe this hallowed houfe. 
 I am fcnr,with broom e,bcforc, 
 
 To 
 
358 
 
 362 
 
 366 
 
 370 
 
 37^ 
 
 37H 
 
 3^2 
 
 AMidfbmmernightes dreame. 
 
 TO fwcepc tbc duft,bchindc the dore. 
 
 Ente>' King and Queens of Fairies ^with all theirtraif 
 O^^Through the houfc giue glimmering light. 
 By thedeadanddrowfie iter, 
 EucryElfeand Fairy fprigbt. 
 Hop as light asbirdemm bricr^ 
 And this dittie after mce^S ing,a nd dauncc it trippingly, 
 
 T/f*^.Firftrehear(eyourfong by rotCj 
 TO each word a warbling note. 
 Hand in hand^with Fairy grace^ 
 Will we fmg and blcflc thisplace* 
 
 O^. Now,vntiII thebreakeofday^ 
 Through this houfCjCach Fairy flcay. 
 TO the beft bride bed will wee: 
 Whichby vsfhallblefledbc: 
 And the ifluc,therc create, 
 Euer (hall be fortunate: 
 So fhall all the couples three 
 Eucrtruc in iouiog be: 
 And the blots of natures hand 
 Shall not in their KTue (land « 
 Neuer mole, hare-lippe>nor Tcane, 
 Nor matke prodigious>ruch as ace 
 Defpifedin naduitie. 
 Shall vpon their children be» 
 Wich this field dea w confecrate. 
 
 Euerlhall in ftfccy reft. 
 And the owner of it bicrft* 
 Trippe away : make no flay: 
 Meece me aU,by breake or day^ E)iem 
 Roin*i^ If we fliado wes h auc offended^ 
 Thinke but this (aad ail is mendedj 
 
 H4 
 
 That 
 
A Midlommer nigntes arcame. 
 
 That you haue but flum bred here, 
 While thefe vi/ions did appeared 
 And this weake and idle cheame. 
 No moreyiclding but a dreamc, 
 Genties, doe not reprehend. 
 Ifyou pardon, wee will rnend^ 
 Andjaslam mhoneRTftci^ 
 If we haue vnearned luck. 
 Now to fcape the Serpents tongue. 
 We will make amends, ere long: 
 Elfe,the ?/w:/^a Iyer call. 
 So^good night vntoyou all. 
 Giuemeyour hand$,ifwe be friends; 
 And Roiin fhali reftore amends^ 
 
 FINIS.