A Midsummer Night's Dream: Act 2, Scene 1
Enter a FAIRY at one door
and ROBIN GOODFELLOW [PUCK]
1How now, spirit! whither wander you?
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be:
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors,
In those freckles live their savors.
14I must go seek some dewdrops here
15And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
16Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:
17Our queen and all our elves come here anon.
18The king doth keep his revels here tonight:
19Take heed the queen come not within his sight;
20For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
21Because that she as her attendant hath
22A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;
23She never had so sweet a changeling;
24And jealous Oberon would have the child
25Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
26But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
27Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy.
28And now they never meet in grove or green,
29By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
30But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
31Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
32Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
33Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
34Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
35That frights the maidens of the villagery;
36Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern
37And bootless make the breathless huswife churn;
38And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
39Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
40Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
41You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
42Are not you he?
42Thou speak'st aright;
43I am that merry wanderer of the night.
44I jest to Oberon and make him smile
45When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
46Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
47And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
48In very likeness of a roasted crab,
49And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
50And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
51The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
52Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
53Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
54And "tailor" cries, and falls into a cough;
55And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
56And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
57A merrier hour was never wasted there.
58But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.
59And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
Enter the King of Fairies [OBERON]
at one door with his TRAIN, and the
Queen [TITANIA] at another with hers.
60Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
61What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence:
62I have forsworn his bed and company.
63Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?
64Then I must be thy lady: but I know
65When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,
66And in the shape of Corin sat all day,
67Playing on pipes of corn and versing love
68To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
69Come from the farthest steep of India?
70But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
71Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,
72To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
73To give their bed joy and prosperity.
74How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
75Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
76Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
77Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night
78From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
79And make him with fair Aegles break his faith,
80With Ariadne and Antiopa?
81These are the forgeries of jealousy:
82And never, since the middle summer's spring,
83Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
84By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
85Or in the beached margent of the sea,
86To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
87But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
88Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
89As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
90Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
91Have every pelting river made so proud
92That they have overborne their continents:
93The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
94The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
95Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
96The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
97And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
98The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
99And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
100For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
101The human mortals want their winter here;
102No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
103Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
104Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
105That rheumatic diseases do abound:
106And thorough this distemperature we see
107The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
108Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
109And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
110An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
111Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
112The childing autumn, angry winter, change
113Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
114By their increase, now knows not which is which:
115And this same progeny of evils comes
116From our debate, from our dissension;
117We are their parents and original.
118Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
119Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
120I do but beg a little changeling boy,
121To be my henchman.
121Set your heart at rest:
122The fairy land buys not the child of me.
123His mother was a votaress of my order:
124And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
125Full often hath she gossip'd by my side,
126And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
127Marking the embarked traders on the flood,
128When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive
129And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
130Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
131Following,her womb then rich with my young squire,
132Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
133To fetch me trifles, and return again,
134As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
135But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
136And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
137And for her sake I will not part with him.
138How long within this wood intend you stay?
139Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
140If you will patiently dance in our round
141And see our moonlight revels, go with us;
142If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
143Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.
144Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!
145We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.
Exeunt [TITANIA with her TRAIN].
146Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
147Till I torment thee for this injury.
148My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest
149Since once I sat upon a promontory,
150And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
151Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
152That the rude sea grew civil at her song
153And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
154To hear the sea-maid's music.
155That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
156Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
157Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took
158At a fair vestal throned by the west,
159And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
160As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
161But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
162Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon,
163And the imperial votaress passed on,
164In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
165Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
166It fell upon a little western flower,
167Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
168And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
169Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once:
170The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid
171Will make or man or woman madly dote
172Upon the next live creature that it sees.
173Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again
174Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
175I'll put a girdle round about the earth
176In forty minutes.
176Having once this juice,
177I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
178And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.
179The next thing then she waking looks upon,
180Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
181On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,
182She shall pursue it with the soul of love:
183And ere I take this charm from off her sight,
184As I can take it with another herb,
185I'll make her render up her page to me.
186But who comes here? I am invisible;
187And I will overhear their conference.
Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA
188I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
189Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
190The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
191Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood;
192And here am I, and wode within this wood,
193Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
194Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
195You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;
196But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
197Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw,
198And I shall have no power to follow you.
199Do I entice you? do I speak you fair?
200Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
201Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?
202And even for that do I love you the more.
203I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
204The more you beat me, I will fawn on you:
205Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
206Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
207Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
208What worser place can I beg in your love,
209And yet a place of high respect with me,
210Than to be used as you use your dog?
211Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
212For I am sick when I do look on thee.
213And I am sick when I look not on you.
214You do impeach your modesty too much,
215To leave the city and commit yourself
216Into the hands of one that loves you not;
217To trust the opportunity of night
218And the ill counsel of a desert place
219With the rich worth of your virginity.
220Your virtue is my privilege. For that
221It is not night when I do see your face,
222Therefore I think I am not in the night;
223Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
224For you in my respect are all the world:
225Then how can it be said I am alone,
226When all the world is here to look on me?
227I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
228And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
229The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
230Run when you will, the story shall be changed:
231Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
232The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
233Makes speed to catch the tiger bootless speed,
234When cowardice pursues and valor flies.
235I will not stay thy questions; let me go:
236Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
237But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
238Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
239You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
240Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex:
241We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
242We should be woo'd and were not made to woo.
243I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
244To die upon the hand I love so well.
245Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
246Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love.
247Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.
248Ay, there it is.
248I pray thee, give it me.
249I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
250Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
251Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
252With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
253There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
254Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
255And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
256Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:
257And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
258And make her full of hateful fantasies.
259Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
260A sweet Athenian lady is in love
261With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
262But do it when the next thing he espies
263May be the lady: thou shalt know the man
264By the Athenian garments he hath on.
265Effect it with some care, that he may prove
266More fond on her than she upon her love:
267And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
268Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.