ROBIN

How now spirit, whither wander you? I go, I go, look how I go. Swifter then arrow, from the Tartars bow. If we shadows have offended, Think but this (and all is mended) That you have but slumbered here, While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend, And, as I am and honest Puck, If we have unearned luck, Now to escape the Serpents tongue, We will make amends, ere long: Else, the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends: And Robin shall restore amends. The king does keep his Revels here to night. Take heed the Queen come not within his sighed. For Oberon is passing fell and wrath: Because that she, as her attendant, hath A lovely boy stolen, from and Indian king: She never had so sweet a changeling. And jealous Oberon would have the child, Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. But she, perforce, withhoulds the loved boy, Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy. And now, they never meet in grove, or green, By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen, But they do square, that all their Elves, for fear, Creep into a corn cups, and hide them there. Thou speakest aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and beane-fed horse beguile; Neighing, in likeness of a filly foal, And sometime lurk Im a gossippes bole, In very likeness of a roasted crab, And when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her withered dewlop, pour the ale. The wisest Aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime, for three foot stool, mistakes me: Then slip I from her bumme, down topples she, And tailor cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole Choir hold their hips, and loffe, And waxed in their mirth, and neeze, and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there. But room Fairy: here comes Oberon. I'll follow you: I'll lead you about a Round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through bryer: Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, A hog, a headelesse Bear, sometime a fire, And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. Exit. I took him sleeping (that is finished to) And the Athenian woman, by his side; That when he waked, of force she must be eyed. This is the woman: but not this the man. Here villain, drawn & ready. Where art thou? Follow me then to plainer ground. Thou coward art thou bragging, to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou lookest for wars, And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou child, I'll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled, That draws a sword on thee. Come hither: I am here. On the ground, sleep found: I'll apply your eye, gentle lover, remedy. When thou wakest, thou takest True delight, in the sighed, of thy former ladies eye: And the country pouerbe known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown. Jack shall have Jill : nought shall go ill: The man shall have his mare again, & all shall be well. Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fools eyes peep. Fairy King, attend, and mark: I do hear the morning Lark. Then fate orerules, that one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath Ho, ho, ho: Coward, why comest thou not Yet but three? Come one more. Two of both kinds makes up four. Hear she comes, cursed and lad. Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. What hempen homespunnes have we swagging here, So near the Cradle of the Fairy Queen? What, a play towards? I'll be and Auditor, And Actor to perhaps, If I see cause. Follow my voice: weel try no manhood here. Exeum ̄ to. I remember. I, there it is. Through the forest have I gone: But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flowers force in stirring love. Night and silence. Who is here? Weeds of Athens he does wear: This is he (my master said) Despised the Athenian maid: And here the maiden, sleeping found, On the danke and dirty ground. Pretty soul, she durst not lie, Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm does owe: When thou wakest, let love forbid Sleep, his seat, on thy eye lid. So awake, when I am gone: For I must now to Oberon. Exit. My mistress with a monster is in love, Near to her close and consecrated bower. While she was in her dull, and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude Mechanicals, That work for bred, upon Athenian stalls, Were met together to rehearse a play, Intended for great Theseus nuptial day: The shallowest thickskin, of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport, Forsook his Scene, and entered in a brake, When I did him at this advantage take: And Asses nole I fixed on his head. Anon his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my Minnick comes. When they him spy; As wild geese, that the creeping Fouler eye, Or russet pated choughs, many in sort (Rising, and cawing, at the guns report) Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky: So, at his sighed, away his fellows fly, And at our stamp, here over and over, 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) Tytania waked, and straight way loved and Ass. Captain of our Fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lovers fee. Shall we their found pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me, I should know the man, By the Athenian garments, he had on? And, so far eblamelesse proves my enterprise, That I have anointed and Athenians eyes: And so far am I glad, it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport. My Fairy Lord, this must be done with haste. For nights swift Dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger: At whose approach, Ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to Churchyards: damned spirits all, That in cross ways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone: For fear least day should look their shames upon, They wilfully themselves exile from light, And must for aye consort with black browed night. Now the hungry Lyons roars. And the wolf beholds the Moon; While the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task foredoone. Now the wasted brands do glow, While the scriech-owle, scrieching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his spright, In the Church way paths to glide. And we Fairies, that do run, By the triple Hecates term, From the presence of the Sun, Following darkness Like a dream, Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent, with broom, before, To sweep the dust, behind the door. I'll put a girdle, rou ̄ worser about the earth, in forty minutes. Fear not my Lord: your servant shall do so. Exeunt. Then will two, at once, woo one: That must needs be sport alone. And those things do best please me, That befall preposterously. Up & down, up & down, I will led them up & down: I am feared in field & town. Goblin, led them up & down. Here comes one. Enter Lysander.