Page images
PDF
EPUB

Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste; For night's swift dragons 26 cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger ;

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,

Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,27
Already to their wormy beds are gone;

For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:
I with the Morning's love 28 have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red,29
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.

26 The chariot of Madam Night was anciently drawn by a team of dragons, that is, serpents, who were thought to be always awake, because they slept with their eyes open; and therefore were selected for this purpose. So, in Cymbeline, Act ii. sc. 2: "Swift, swift, ye dragons of the night." And in Milton's Il Penseroso:

"Smoothing the rugged brow of night,

While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke."

H.

27 The ghosts of self-murderers, who are buried in cross-roads; and of those who being drowned were condemned (according to the opinion of the ancients) to wander for a hundred years, as the rites of sepulture had never been regularly bestowed on their bodies. See the fine passage in Hamlet, Act i. sc. 1: "I have neard, the cock, that is the trumpet of the morn," &c.

28 Cephalus, the mighty hunter, and paramour of Aurora, was here probably meant.

29 This, it is thought, may have been suggested by the follow ing from Chaucer's Knight's Tale :

"The besy larke, the messager of day,
Salewith in hire song the morwe gray;
And firy Phebus riseth up so bright
That all the orient laugheth of the sight,
And with his stremes drieth in the greves
The silver dropes, hanging on the leves."

H.

But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
We may effect this business yet ere day.

[Exit OBERON

Puck. Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down:

I am fear'd in field and town; Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one.

Enter LYSANDER.

Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius ? speak thou now.

Puck. Here, villain! drawn and ready. Where

art thou?

Lys. I will be with thee straight.

Puck.

Follow me then

To plainer ground. [Exit Lys. as following the voice

Dem.

Enter DEMETRIUS.

Lysander! speak again.

'Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?

Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

Puck. Thou coward! art thou bragging to the

stars,

Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,

And wilt not come ? Come, recreant; come, thou

child,

I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd,

That draws a sword on thee.

Dem.

Yea; art thou there?

Puck. Follow my voice we'll try no manhood

here.

[Exeunt

Re-enter LYSANDER.

Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on:
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter heel'd than I :

I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly;
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,

And here will rest me.

Come, thou gentle day!

[Lies donon. For if but once thou show me thy grey light, I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.

Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS.

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

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

Puck.

Come hither; I am here.

Dem. Nay, then thou mock'st me. 'by this dear, 30

If ever I thy face by day-light see:

Thou shalt

Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.—
By day's approach look to be visited.

[Lies down and sleeps.

Enter HELENA.

Hel. O weary night! O long and tedious night! Abate thy hours: shine, comforts, from the east ; That I may back to Athens by day-light, From these that my poor company detest:

30 Aby: See rotes 14 and 23.

And, sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Sleeps Puck. Yet but three? Come one more;

Two of both kinds makes up four.

Here she comes, curst and sad:

Cupid is a knavish lad,

Thus to make poor females mad.

Enter HERMIA.

Her. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day: Heaven shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lies down.

Puck. On the ground sleep sound :

I'll apply to your eye,

Gentle lover, remedy.

[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER's eye When thou wak'st, thou tak'st

True delight in the sight

Of thy former lady's eye:

And the country proverb known,

That every man should take his own,

In your waking shall be shown:
Jack shall have Jill;

Nought shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again,
And all shall be well.31

[Exit PUCK.-DEM., HEL., &c., sleep.

31 These last four lines are to be found in Heywood's Epigrams or Three Hundred Proverbs.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The same.

Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM, Fairies attending; OBERON behind unseen.

Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,'

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot. Where's Peas-blossom?

Peas. Ready.

Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom. - Where's monsieur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

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

Must. Ready.

Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Must. What's your will?

Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, mon

To coy, is to stroke or soothe with the hand.

2 That is, fist. So, in 2 Henry IV., Pistol says: "Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif." In Ben Jonson's Poetaster, Act iii. sc. 1. the word is spelt neuf

Grey says,

H.

Without doubt it should be cavalery Peas

« PreviousContinue »