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Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed What do I see on thee P - r
Bot. What do you see P You see an ass’s head of your own; do you ?
Quin. Bless thee, Bottom | Bless thee! Thou art translated. [Exit.
Bot. I see their knavery ! This is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can. I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. [Sings.
The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
The throstle with his note so true,
Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bedf
Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird f
1 The cuckoo, having no variety of note, sings in plain song (plano
cantu), by which expression the uniform modulation or simplicity of the
chant was anciently distinguished in opposition to prick-song, or variated music sung by note. WOL. II. 5
son for that; and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays. The more the pity, that some honest neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek' upon occasion.
Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Bot. Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go; Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit of no common rate ; The summer still doth tend upon my state, And I do love thee: therefore, go with me; I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee; And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep; And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so, That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.— Peas-blossom Cobweb | Moth ! and Mustard-seed'
Enter four Fairies.
1 Fai. Ready.
2 Fai. And I.
3 Fai. And I.
4. Fai. And I.
All. Where shall we go?
Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
1 i.e. jest or scoff. 2 The fruit of a bramble called rubus casus; sometimes called also the blue-berry.
1 Fai. Hail, mortal!
2 Fai. Hail!
3 Fai. Hail!
4. Fai. Hail!
Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.—I besecch your worship's name P
Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance,' good master Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.-Your name, honest gentleman f
Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash,” your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience” well. That same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaintance, good master Mustard-seed.
Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon methinks looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Tie up my lover's tongue; bring him silently.
SCENE II. Another Part of the Wood.
Obe. I wonder if Titania be awaked; Then, what it was that next came in her eye, Which she must dote on in extremity.
1 “I shall desire you of more acquaintance.” This kind of phraseology Was not uncommon.
2 A squash is an immature peascod.
3 The words are spoken ironically, as it was the prevailing opinion in Shakspeare's time, that mustard excited choler.
Here comes my messenger.—How now, mad spirit!
1 Revelry. . * A patch was a common contemptuous term. 8 Barren is dull, unpregnant. Sort is company. 4. A head. 5 The chough is a bird of the daw kind.
Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. But hast thou yet latched' the Athenian's eyes With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
Puck. I took him sleeping-that is finished, too, And the Athenian woman by his side; That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.
Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA.
Obe. Stand close ; this is the same Athenian. Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man. Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so P Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse ; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too. The sun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have stolen away From sleeping Hermia I’ll believe, as soon, This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon May through the centre creep, and so displease Her brother's noontide with the Antipodes. It cannot be, but thou hast murdered him: So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murdered look; and so should I, Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty. Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Her. What's this to my Lysander P Where is he f Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. Her. Out, dog!, Out, cur! Thou driv'st me past - the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then P Henceforth be never numbered among men!
* Latched or letched, licked or smeared over.