An ass’s nole I fixèd on his head.

Anon his Thisbe must be answered,

And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy—

As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,

Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,

Rising and cawing at the gun’s report,

Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky—

So, at his sight, away his fellows fly,

And at our stamp here o’er and o’er one falls.

He ’Murder’ cries, and help from Athens calls.

Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus

strong,

Made senseless things begin to do them wrong.

For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;

Some sleeves, some hats—from yielders all things catch.

I led them on in this distracted fear,

And left sweet Pyramus translated there;

When in that moment, so it came to pass,

Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.

OBERON

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?

ROBIN

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

OBERON

Stand close. This is the same Athenian.

ROBIN

This is the woman, but not this the man.

⌈They stand apart⌉

DEMETRIUS

O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?

Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

HERMIA

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 th’Antipodes.

It cannot be but thou hast murdered him.

So should a murderer look—so dead, so grim.

DEMETRIUS

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.

HERMIA

What’s this to my Lysander? Where is he?

Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

DEMETRIUS

I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.

HERMIA

Out, dog; out, cur. Thou driv’st me past the bounds

Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him then?

Henceforth be never numbered among men.

O, once tell true; tell true, even for my sake.

Durst thou have looked upon him being awake,

And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch!

Could not a worm, an adder do so much?—

An adder did it, for with doubler tongue

Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

DEMETRIUS

You spend your passion on a misprised mood.

I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood,

Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

HERMIA

I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

DEMETRIUS

And if I could, what should I get therefor?

HERMIA

A privilege never to see me more;

And from thy hated presence part I so.

See me no more, whether he be dead or no. Exit

DEMETRIUS

There is no following her in this fierce vein.

Here therefore for a while I will remain.

So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow

For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe,

Which now in some slight measure it will pay,

If for his tender here I make some stay.

He lies down and sleeps

OBERON (to Robin)

What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite,

And laid the love juice on some true love’s sight.

Of thy misprision must perforce ensue

Some true love turned, and not a false turned true.

ROBIN

Then fate o’errules, that, one man holding troth,

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

OBERON

About the wood go swifter than the wind,

And Helena of Athens look thou find.

All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer

With sighs of love that costs the fresh blood dear.

By some illusion see thou bring her here.

I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.

ROBIN

I go, I go—look how I go,

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. Exit

OBERON

Flower of this purple dye,

Hit with Cupid’s archery,

Sink in apple of his eye.

He drops the juice on Demetrius’ eyelids

When his love he doth espy,

Let her shine as gloriously

As the Venus of the sky.

When thou wak’st, if she be by,

Beg of her for remedy.

Enter Robin Goodfellow, the puck

ROBIN

Captain of our fairy band,

Helena is here at hand,

And the youth mistook by me,

Pleading for a lover’s fee.

Shall we their fond pageant see?

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

OBERON

Stand aside. The noise they make

Will cause Demetrius to awake.

ROBIN

Then will two at once woo one.