With ears that fweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd, like Theffalian bulls,
Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable

Was never hollow'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Theffaly:

Judge when you hear. But foft, what nymphs are thefe?
Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this Lyfander, this Demetrius,

This Helena, old Nedar's Helena;

I wonder at their being here together.

The. No doubt, they rofe up early to obferve

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

But fpeak, Egeus, is not this the day

That Hermia fhould give anfwer of her choice?
Ege. It is, my lord.

The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
-Horns, and they wake. Shout within, they all start up.
The. Good morrow, friends; Saint Valentine is paft:
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
Lyf. 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 jealousie,
To fleep by hate, and fear no enmity?
Lyf. My lord, I fhall reply amazedly,
Half fleep, half waking. But as yet I swear
I cannot truly fay how I came here:
But as I think, (for truly would I speak,)
And now I do methink me, fo it is:

I came with Hermia hither. Our intent

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

Ege. Enough, enough, my lord, you have enough;

I beg the law, the law upon his head:

5 the peril

They

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 the fhould be your wife.
Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their ftealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;

Fair Helena in fancy follow'd 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 childhood 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 faw;
But like a ficknefs did I loath this food;
/Yet as in health come to my natural tafte,
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 eternally be knit,

And, for the morning now is fomething worn,
Our purpos'd hunting fhall be fet aside.
Away with us to Athens, three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great folemnity.

Come, my Hippolita.

[Exeunt Duke and lords.

Dem. These things feem fmall and undiftinguishable,

Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

Her. Methinks I fee these things with parted eye,

When every thing feems double.

Hel. So methinks;

And I have found Demetrius, ? 'a jewel,`

6 But

Mine

7 like a jewel,

Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem. It feems 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.

Lyf. And he bid us to follow to the temple.

Dem. Why then, we are awake; let's follow him, And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.

SCENE

[Bottom wakes.

III.

Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is, Moft fair Pyramus-hey ho, Peter Quince! Flute the bellows-mender! Snowt the tinker! Starveling! god's my life! ftol'n hence, and left me afleep. I have had a moft 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 had-But man is but a patch'd fool, if he will offer to fay 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 hath no bottom; and I will fing it in the latter end of the play before the Duke: peradventure to make it the more gracious, I fhall fing it after death,

Enter Quince, Flute, Snowt, and Starveling. Quin. Have you fent to Bottom's houfe? is he come home yet?

8 at her... old edit. Theob. emend.

Star.

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is tranfported.

Flute. 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.

Flute. No, he hath fimply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens.

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

Flute. You must fay, paragon; a paramour is (God blefs us) a thing of 'naught."

Enter Snug.

Snug. Mafters, 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.

Flute. O fweet bully Bottom! thus hath he loft fixpence a-day during his life; he could not have 'fcap'd fix-pence a-day; 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 most courageous day! O most happy

hour!

. Bot. Mafters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing as it fell out.

Quin. Let us hear, fweet Bottom.

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 prefently at the palace, every man look o'er his part; for the fhort and the long is, our play is preferred: in any

9 nought....old edit. Theob. emend.

cafe

cafe let Thisby have clean linnen; and let not him that plays the lion pare 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 sweet breath; and I do not doubt to hear them fay, it is a sweet comedy. No more words; away, go away.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Enter Thefeus, Hippolita, Egeus, and his Lords.

HIPPOLITA.

The More frange than true. I never may believe IS ftrange, my Thefeus, what thefe lovers fpeak of. These antick fables, nor thefe Fairy toys; Lovers and madmen have fuch feething brains, Such fhaping fantafies, that apprehend More than cool reafon ever comprehends.

The lunatick, the lover, and the poet,

Are of imagination all compact:

One fees more devils than vast hell can hold ;

The madman. While the lover, all as frantick,

Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rowling,

Doth glance from heav'n to earth, from earth to heav'n ;

And, as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shape, and gives to aiery nothing
A local habitation and a name,

Such tricks hath ftrong imagination,

That if it would but apprehend fome joy,
It comprehends fome bringer of that joy:
2/So in the night imagining fome fear,
How eafy is a bufh fuppos'd a bear?

Hip.