Rifing and cawing at the gun's report, Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky; And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. Their fenfe thus weak, loft with their fears thus ftrong, Some, fleeves; fome, hats; from yielders all things catch. And left fweet Pyramus tranflated there : OB. This falls out better than I could devile. PUCK. I took him fleeping; that is finish'd too; And the Athenian woman by his fide, That when he wakes, of force fshe must be ey'd. SCENE V... Enter Demetrius and Hermia. OB. Stand clofe, this is the fame Athenian. Lay breath o bitter on your bitter foe. HEM. Now I but chide, but I fhould ufe thee worfe; For thou, I fear, haft giv'n me cause to curfe: If thou haft flain Lyfander in his fleep, Being o'er fhoes in blood, plunge in the deep, The fun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have ftol'n away From fleeping Hermia? I'll believe as foon, This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon DEM. So fhould the murder'd look; and fo should I, HEL. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? DEM. I'd rather give his carcafs to my hounds. O! once tell true and even for my fake, And haft thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch! DEM. You spend your paffion on a mispris'd mood: Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. HER. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. And from thy hated prefence part I fo: [Exie. DEM. There is no following her in this fierce vein, Here, therefore, for a while I will remain: So forrow's heavinefs doth heavier grow, For debt, that bankrupt sleep doth forrow owe; Which now in fome flight measure it will pay, If for his tender here I make fome stay. See me no more, whether he's dead or no. [Lies down. OB. What haft thou done? thou haft mistaken quité, And laid thy love-juice on fome true love's fight: Of thy mifpriffon must perforce enfue Some true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true. PUCK. Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. OB. About the wood go fwifter than the wind, With fighs of love, that coft the fresh blood dear; OB. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, When thou wak'ft, if the be by, Beg of her for remedy. Enter Puck. PUCK. Captain of our fairy-band, [Exit. Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant fee? Lord, what fools thefe mortals be! OB. Stand afide; the noise they make, Will cause Demetrius to awake. PUCK. Then will two at once woo one; That must needs be sport alone, And those things do best please me, That befal prepoft'rously. SCENE VI. Enter Lyfander and Helena. Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo in fcorn Scorn and derifion never come in tears. Look, when I vow I weep; and vows fo born, In their nativity all truth appears: How can things in me feem fcorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true? HEL. You do advance your cunning more and more; Lys. I had no judgment when to her I swore HEL. Nor none in my mind, now you give her o'er. To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne ? Thy lips, thofe kiffing cherries, tempting grow! HEL. O fpight, O hell! I fee you all are bent To fet against me, for your merriment; If you were civil, and knew courtefy, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, But you must join in fouls to mock me too? If you are men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle lady fo: To vow and swear, and fuper-praife my parts; When, I am fure, you hate me with your hearts You both are rivals, and love Hermia, And now both rivals to mock Helena. A trim exploit, a manly enterprize, To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not fo; HEL: Never did mockers waste more idle breath. |