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Rifing and cawing at the gun's report,

Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky;
So at his fight, away his fellows fly;

And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;

He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.

Their fenfe thus weak, loft with their fears thus ftrong,
Made fenfeless things begin to do them wrong.
For briars and thorns at their apparel fnatch,

Some, fleeves; fome, hats; from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,

And left fweet Pyramus tranflated there :
When in that moment (fo it came to pass)
Titania wak'd, and straitway lov'd an ass.

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

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.
PUCK. This is the woman, but not this the man.
DEM. O, why rebuke you him that loves you fo?

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,
And kill me too,

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
May through the center creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou haft murder'd him;
So fhould a murderer look, fo dread, fo grim.

DEM. So fhould the murder'd look; and fo should I,
Pierc'd through the heart with your ftern cruelty:
Yet
you the murderer look as bright, and clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimm'ring sphere.

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

DEM. I'd rather give his carcafs to my hounds.
HER. Out, dog; out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Haft thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never sumber'd among men.

O! once tell true and even for my fake,
Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake!

And haft thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder do fo much?
An adder did it, for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou ferpent, never adder stung

DEM. You spend your paffion on a mispris'd mood:
I am not guilty of Lyfander's blood,

Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

HER. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
DEM. And if I could, what should I get therefore?
HER. A privilege never to fee me more;

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,
And Helena, of Athens, fee, thou find.
All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer:

With fighs of love, that coft the fresh blood dear;
By fome illufion, fee, thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes, againft fhe doth appear.
PUCK. I go, I go; luck, how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.

OB. Flower of this purple dye,

Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth efpy,
Let her fhine as gloriously
As the Venus of the fky.

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;
When truth kills truth, O devilish, holy fray!
These vows are Hermia's, will you give her o'er?
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.

Lys. I had no judgment when to her I swore

HEL. Nor none in my mind, now you give her o'er.
Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you,
DEM. [awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect,
divine,

To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne ?
Crystal is muddy; O how ripe in fhow

Thy lips, thofe kiffing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' fnow,
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
When thou hold'st up thy hand. O let me kifs
This princefs of pure white, this feal of blifs.

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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
With your derifion! none of nobler fort
Would fo offend a virgin, and extort
A poor foul's patience, all to make
you sport.

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not fo;
For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know.
And here with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love, and will do to my death.

HEL: Never did mockers waste more idle breath.

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