Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd, like Theffalian bulls;
Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable

Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,

In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Theffaly :

Judge when you hear. But foft, what nymphs are these?

EGE. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this Lyfander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena;

I wonder at their being here together.

THE. No doubt they rofe up early to observe

The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our folemnity.

But speak, Egeus, is not this the day,

That Hermia fhould give answer of her choice?

EGE. It is, my lord.

THE. Go bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.

Horns, and fhout within: Demetrius, Lyfander, Hermia, and Helena, wake and start up.

THE. Good morrow, friends; faint Valentine is past; Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Lys. Pardon, my lord.

THE. I pray you all, stand up:
I know, you two are rival enemies.

How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is fo far from jealousy,

To fleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,

Half fleep, half waking. But as yet, I fwear,
I cannot truly fay how I came here:

But as I think, for truly would I speak,

• And now I do bethink me, so it is;

I came with Hermia hither. Our intent

Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of th' Athenian law.

EGE. Enough, enough; my lord, you have enough; I beg the law, the law upon his head:

They would have ftol'n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me;

You, of your wife; and me, of my confent;
Of my confent, that she should be your wife.

DEM. My lord, fair Helen told me of their fealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;

Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
But by fome power it is, my love to Hermia
Is melted as the fnow; feems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaude,
Which in my childbed I did doat upon,
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betrothed ere I Hermia saw;
But like a fickness did I loath this food;
But as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now do I wish it, love it, long for it;
And will for evermore be true to it.

THE. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met;
Of this difcourfe we fhall hear more anon.
Egeus, I will over-bear your will;
For in the temple, by and by with us,

Thefe couples fhall etternally be knit;

And, for the morning now is fomething worn,
Our purpos'd hunting fhall be fet afide.

Away, with us to Athens; three and three,

We'll hold a feaft in great folemnity.

Come, Hippolita.

[Exe. Duke, Hippol, and train.

DEM. These things feem fmall and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

HER. Methinks I see these things with parted eye; When every thing feems double.

HEL. So, methinks;

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

Mine own, and not mine own.

DEM. But are you fure,

That we are well awake?

It seems to me,

That yet we fleep, we dream. Do not you think,

The duke was here, and bid us follow him?

HER. Yea, and my father.

HEL. And Hippolita.

Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.

DEM. Why then, we are awake; let's follow him; And, by the way, let us recount our dream.

SCENE III,

As they go out, Bottom wakes.

[Exeunt.

Bor. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is, most fair Pyramus-hey ho,-Peter Quince, Flute the bellows-mender! Snout the tinker! Starveling! god's my life! ftolen hence, and left me afleep? I have had a most rare vifion. I had a dream, paft the wit of man to fay what dream it was; man is but an afs, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was-there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I hadBut man is but a patch'd fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard,

the ear of man hath not feen; man's hand is not able to tafte, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream; it fhall be call'd Bottom's Dream, because it has no bottom; and I will fing it in the latter-end of a play before the duke; peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I fhall fing it after death. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

Changes to the town.

Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.

QUIN. Have you fent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet?

STAR. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported.

FLU. If he come not, then the play is marr'd. It goes not forward, doth it?

QUIN. It is not poffible; you have not a man in all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he.

FLU. No, he hath fimply the best wit of any handy-craft man in Athens.

QUIN. Yea, and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.

FLU. You must fay, paragon; a paramour is (God bless us!) a thing of nought.

Enter Snug.

SNUG. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married; if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

FLU. O fweet bully Bottom! thus bath he loft fix-pence

a-day during his life; he could not have 'fcap'd fix-pence aday; an' the duke had not given him fix-pence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd: He would have deferv'd it. Six-pence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing.

Enter Bottom.

BOT. Where are thefe lads? where are these hearts? QUIN. Bottom! O moft courageous day! O most happy hour!

BOT. Mafters, I am to difcourfe wonders, but ask me not what; for, if I tell you I am no true Athenian

tell you every thing as it fell out.

QUIN. Let us hear, fweet Bottom.

-I will

BOT. Not a word of me; all I will tell you is, that the duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace, every man look o'er his part; for the short and the long is, our play is preferr'd. In any cafe, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion, pair his nails, for they fhall hang out for the lion's claws; and, most dear actors! eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are to utter fweet breath; and I do not doubt to hear them fay, it is a most sweet comedy. No more words, a

way; go away.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

The PALACE.

Enter Thefeus, Hippolita, Égeus, and his lords.

HIPPOLITA.

'TIS ftrange, my Thefeus, what these lovers fpeak of. THE. More strange than true. I never may believe

These antick fables, nor these fairy toys;