[Stage] Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia continue to sleep onstage. Titania enters with Bottom (who still has a donkey’s head) and the fairies Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed. Oberon enters behind them, unseen by the others.
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk roses in thy sleek, smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s Monsieur Cobweb?
Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you your weapons in
your hand and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the
top of a thistle. And, good monsieur, bring me the honey
Do not fret yourself too much in the action,
monsieur. And good monsieur, have a care the honey bag
break not. I would be loath to have you overflown with a
honey bag, signor.
[Stage] Cobweb exits.
[Stage] Where’s Monsieur Mustardseed?
Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. Pray you,
leave your courtesy, good monsieur.
What’s your will?
Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to
scratch. I must to the barber’s, monsieur, for methinks
I am marvelous hairy about the face.
And I am such a
tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s have the
tongs and the bones.
Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch your good dry
oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of
hay. Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
The squirrel’s hoard and fetch thee new nuts.
I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But,
I pray you, let none of your people stir me. I have an
exposition of sleep come upon me.
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.
[Stage] The Fairies exit.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist. The female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
Oh, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!
[Stage] Bottom and Titania fall asleep.
Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity.
For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
Seeking sweet favors from this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her and fall out with her.
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers,
And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her
And she in mild terms begged my patience,
I then did ask of her her changeling child,
Which straight she gave me and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in Fairyland.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp
From off the head of this Athenian swain,
That, he awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair
And think no more of this night’s accidents
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the fairy queen.
Be as thou wast wont to be.
See as thou wast wont to see.
Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower
Hath such force and blessèd power.
Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.
[Stage] Robin enters.
[Waking] My Oberon, what visions have I seen!
Methought I was enamored of an ass.
There lies your love.
How came these things to pass?
Oh, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.
Titania, music call, and strike more dead
Than common sleep of all these five the sense.
Music, ho! Music such as charmeth sleep!
[Taking the ass’ head off Bottom]
Now when thou wakest, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.
Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will tomorrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity.
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
Fairy King, attend, and mark.
I do hear the morning lark.
Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night’s shade.
We the globe can compass soon
Swifter than the wandering moon.
Come, my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night
That I sleeping here was found
With these mortals on the ground.
[Stage] Oberon, Titania, and Robin exit.
[Stage] A hunting horn blows. Theseus enters with, Egeus, Hippolyta, and his servants.
Go, one of you, find out the forester.
For now our observation is performed.
And since we have the vaward of the day,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley. Let them go.
Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.
[Stage] One of the servants exits.
[Stage] We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top,
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear
With hounds of Sparta.
Never did I hear
Such gallant chiding. For, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seemed all one mutual cry.
I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew,
Crook-kneed, and dew-lapped like Thessalian bulls,
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each.
A cry more tunable
Was never hollaed to, nor cheered with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.
Judge when you hear.
But, soft! What nymphs are these?
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep.
And this, Lysander. This Demetrius is.
This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena.
I wonder of their being here together.
No doubt they rose up early to observe
The rite of May, and hearing our intent
Came here in grace our solemnity.
But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
It is, my lord.
现: Go tell the hunters to wake them by blowing their horns.
[Stage] One of the servants exits.
[Stage] Wind, horns, and shouts within. Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia wake and start up.
Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past. Begin
these woodbirds but to couple now?
Pardon, my lord.
[Stage] Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia all kneel.
I pray you all, stand up.
[Stage] Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia all stand up.
I know you two are rival enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy
To sleep by hate and fear no enmity?
My lord, I shall reply amazèdly,
Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I came here.
But as I think—for truly would I speak,
And now do I bethink me, so it is—
I came with Hermia hither.
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
Without the peril of the Athenian law—
Enough, enough, my lord. You have enough!
I beg the law, the law, upon his head.
They would have stol’n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me,
You of your wife and me of my consent,
Of my consent that she should be your wife.
My lord, fair Helen told me of their
Of this their purpose hither to this wood.
And I in fury hither followed them,
Fair Helena in fancy following me.
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power—
But by some power it is—my love to Hermia,
Melted as the snow,
seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaud
Which in my childhood I did dote 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 saw Hermia.
But like in sickness did I loathe this food.
But as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met.
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
Egeus, I will overbear your will.
For in the temple by and by with us
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
Away with us to Athens. Three and three,
We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.
[Stage] Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and the servants and followers exit.
These things seem small and undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains turnèd into clouds.
Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When everything seems double.
And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
Mine own, and not mine own.
Are you sure
That we are awake?
It seems to me
That yet we sleep, we dream.
Do not you think
The duke was here, and bid us follow him?
Yea, and my father.
And he did bid us follow to the temple.
Why then, we are awake. Let’s follow him
And by the way let us recount our dreams.
[Stage] Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia exit.
When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer.
My next is “Most fair Pyramus.”
Heigh-ho! Peter Quince?
Flute the bellows-mender? Snout the tinker? Starveling?
God’s my life, stol’n hence, and left me asleep?
had a most rare vision. I have had a dream—past the wit
of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass 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 patched fool if he will offer to
say what methought I had.
The eye of man hath not
heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not
able to taste, 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 shall be called
“Bottom’s Dream” because it hath no bottom.
And I will
sing it in the latter end of a play before the duke.
Peradventure, to make it more gracious, I shall sing it
at her death.
[Stage] Bottom exits.