Lyf. Hermia, for aught that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,

The courfe of true love never did run fmooth;
But, either, it was different in blood-

Her. O crofs! too high, to be enthrall'd to low ! -(1)
Lyf. Or elfe mifgraffed, in refpect of years

Her. Ofpight! too old, to be engag'd to young!
Lyf. Or elle it ftood upon the choice of friends
Her. O hell! to chufe love by another's eye!
Lyf. Or if there were a fympathy in choice,
War, death, or ficknefs did lay fiege to it;
Making it momentary as a found,

Swift as a fhadow, fhort as any dream,
Brief as the lightening in the collied night,
That (in a fpleen) unfolds both heav'n and earth;
And ere a man hath power to fay, Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up;
So quick bright things come to confufion.-

Her. If then true lovers have been ever croft,

(1) Too bigb, to be enthrall'd to love.] This reading poffeffes all the editions, but carries no juft meaning in it. Nor was Hermia difpleas'd at being in love; but regrets the inconveniences, that generally attend the paffion: Either, the parties are difproportioned, in degree of blood and quality; or unequal, in refpect of years; or brought together by the appointment of friends, and not by their own choice. Thefe are the complaints reprefented by Lyfander; and Hermia, to answer to the firft, as fhe has done to the other two, muft neceffarily

fay; O cross!

too high, to be enthrall'd to low! So the antithefis is kept up in the terms; and fo fhe is made to condole the difproportion of blood and quality in lovers. And this is one of the curfes, that Venus, on feeing Adonis dead, prophefies fhall always attend love, in our Author's poem, call'd, VENUS and, ADONIS. Stanz. 190..

Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophefy,

Sorrow on love hereafter fhall attend;
It shall be waited on with jealoufy;

Find fweet beginning, but unfav'ry end :
Ne'er fettled equally, to bigb, or low;

That all love's pleafures fhall not match his woe..

And fo the young Prince complains, in the Winter's Tale:

Leon.

You are married?

Flo. We are not, Sir, nor are we like to be:
The ftars, I fee, will kifs the vallies fir
The odds for high and low's alike,

It ftands as an edit in destiny:
Then let us teach our trial patience:
Because it is a cuftomary cross,

As due to love, as thoughts and dreams, and fighs,
Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers!

Lyf. A good perfuafion; therefore hear me, Hermia. I have a widow-aunt, a dowager

Of great revenue, and the hath no child;

From Athens is her house remov'd seven leagues,
And the refpects me as her only fon.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
And to that place the sharp Athenian law
Cannot purfue us. If thou lov'ft me then,
Steal forth thy father's houfe to-morrow night;
And in the wood, a league without the town,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena
To do obfervance to the morn of May,
There will I ftay for thee.

Her. My good Lyfander,

I fwear to thee by Cupid's ftrongest bow,
By his beft arrow with the golden head,
By the fimplicity of Venus' doves,

By that, which knitteth fouls, and profpers loves;
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen,
When the falfe Trojan under fail was feen;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever woman fpoke;
In that fame place thou haft appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

Ly. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God fpeeds fair Helena! whither away?
Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unfay
Demetrius loves you, fair; O happy fair!

Your eyes are load-stars, and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to fhepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when haw-thorn buds
Sickness is catching; oh, were favour fo!
Your words I'd catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;

appear,

My

My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye;
My tongue should catch your tongue's fweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The reft I'll give to be to you tranflated.

O teach me, how you look; and with what art
You fway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me ftill.
Hel. Oh, that your frowns would teach my fmiles
fuch skill!

Her. I give him curfes, yet he gives me love.

Hel. Oh, that my prayers could fuch affection move!
Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.

Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.

Hel. None, but your beauty; would that fault were mine! Her. Take comfort; he no more shall fee my face; Lyfander and myfelf will fly this place.

Before the time I did Lysander fee,

Seem'd Athens like a paradife to me.

O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell?

Lyf. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold;
To-morrow night, when Phabe doth behold
Her filver vifage in the watry glafs,

Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass;
(A time, that lovers flights doth ftill conceal)
Through Athens' gate have we devis'd to steal..

Her. And in the wood, where often you and I.
Upon faint primrose-beds, were wont to lie,.
Emptying our bofoms of their counfels fweet; (2)
There, my Lyfander and myself fhall meet;

(2)

Emptying our bofoms of their counfels (well'd2;
There my Lyfander and myself shall meet,
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
To feek new friends, and firange companions.]

And

This whole scene is ftrictly in rhyme; and that it deviates in these two couplets, I am perfuaded, is owing to the ignorance of the first, and the inaccuracy of the later, Editors; I have therefore ventur'd to reftore the rhymes, as I make no doubt but the Poet first gave them, Sweet was easily corrupted into fwell'd, because that made an antithe fis to emptying and frange companions our Editors thought was plain

English

And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
To feek new friends and stranger companies.
Farewel, sweet play-fellow; pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius !
Keep word, Lyfander; we must starve our fight
From lovers' food, 'till morrow deep midnight.

[Exit Hermia. Lyf. I will, my Hermia.- Helena, adieu; As you on him, Demetrius doat on you!

[Exit Lyfand.
Hel. How happy fome, o'er otherfome, can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not fo:
He will not know; what all, but he, do know,
And as he errs, doating on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.

Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can tranfpofe to form and dignity:

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind;
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment tafte;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy hafte.
And therefore is love faid to be a child,
Because in choice he is fo oft beguil'd.

Englife; but firanger companies, a little quaint and unintelligible. It may be neceffary, in proof of my emendation, to fhew, that our Author elsewhere ufes the fubftantive stranger adjectively; and companies, to fignify companions.

King John. A&t. 5.

Wherein we step after a firanger march
Upon her gentle bofom.

Rich. II. A&. 1.

But tread the franger paths of banifhment.

Beaumont and Fletcher have used it in the like manner; Spanis Curate, A&t. 3.

To bring into my family, to fucceed me,

The Aranger iffue of another's bed.

2 Henry V. A&t. i.

Since his addiction was to courses vain,
His companies unletter'd, rude, and fhallow.

And fo, in a parallel word, Merry Wives of Windfor, A. 3o
My riots paft, my wild focieties.

As

As waggish boys themselves in game forfwear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where.
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine;
And when this hail fome heat from Hermia felt,
So he diffolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt..
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he, to-morrow night,
Purfue her; and for this intelligence

If I have thanks, it is a dear expence.
But herein mean I to enrich
my pain,
To have his fight thither, and back again.

SCENE changes to a Cottage.

[Exit.

Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt, and Starveling.

Quin. TS all our company here?

Is

Bot. You were beft to call them generally man by man, according to the fcrip.

Quin. Here is the fcrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke and Dutchefs, on his wedding day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and fo grow on to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I affure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the fcrowl. Mafters, fpread yourselves.

Quin. Anfwer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. Bot. Ready: name what part I am for, and proceed... Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for Love.

Bot. That will ask fome tears in the true performing of it; if I do it, let the audience look to their

eyes