A Midsummer Night's Dream III.ii@Everything2.com

William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act III, scene 2. (previous scene next scene) (extra scene->)

SCENE II. Another part of the wood.

[Enter OBERON.]

OBERON: I wonder if Titania be awak'd;; Then, what it was that next came in her eye,; Which she must dote on in extremity.

[Enter PUCK.]; Here comes my messenger.--How now, mad spirit?; What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
PUCK: 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 bread 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 enter'd in a brake;; When I did him at this advantage take,; An ass's nowl I fixed 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 wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.
OBERON: This falls out better than I could devise.; But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes; With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
PUCK: I took him sleeping,--that is finish'd too,--; And the Athenian woman by his side;; That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.

[Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA.]
OBERON: Stand close; this is the same Athenian.
PUCK: This is the woman, but not this the man.
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 stol'n away; From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon; This whole earth may be bor'd; 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 murder'd him;; So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim.
DEMETRIUS: So should the murder'd look; and so should I,; Pierc'd 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 number'd among men!; Oh! once tell true; tell true, even for my sake;; Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake,; And hast thou kill'd 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 mispris'd 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: An if I could, what should I get therefore?
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.

[Lies down.]
OBERON: 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 turn'd, and not a false turn'd true.
PUCK: Then fate o'er-rules, 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.
PUCK: 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!; 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.

[Re-enter PUCK.]
PUCK: 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.
PUCK: Then will two at once woo one,--; That must needs be sport alone;; And those things do best please me; That befall preposterously.

[Enter LYSANDER and HELENA.]
LYSANDER: Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?; Scorn and derision never come in tears.; Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,; In their nativity all truth appears.; How can these things in me seem scorn to you,; Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
HELENA: You do advance your cunning more and more.; When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!; These vows are Hermia's: will you give her o'er?; Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:; Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,; Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
LYSANDER: I had no judgment when to her I swore.
HELENA: Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.
LYSANDER: Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
DEMETRIUS: [Awaking.]; O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!; To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?; Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show; Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!; That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow,; Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow; When thou hold'st up thy hand: O, let me kiss; This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
HELENA: O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent; To set against me for your merriment.; If you were civil, and knew courtesy,; You would not do me thus much injury.; Can you not hate me, as I know you do,; But you must join in souls to mock me too?; If you were men, as men you are in show,; You would not use a gentle lady so;; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,; When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.; You both are rivals, and love Hermia;; And now both rivals, to mock Helena:; A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,; To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes; With your derision! None of noble sort; Would so offend a virgin, and extort; A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
LYSANDER: You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;; For you love Hermia: this you know I know:; And here, with all good will, with all my heart,; In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;; And yours of Helena to me bequeath,; Whom I do love and will do till my death.
HELENA: Never did mockers waste more idle breath].
DEMETRIUS: Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:; If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.; My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn'd;; And now to Helen is it home return'd,; There to remain.
LYSANDER: Helen, it is not so.
DEMETRIUS: Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,; Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.--; Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

[Enter HERMIA.]
HERMIA: Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,; The ear more quick of apprehension makes;; Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,; It pays the hearing double recompense:--; Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;; Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.; But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
LYSANDER: Why should he stay whom love doth press to go?
HERMIA: What love could press Lysander from my side?
LYSANDER: Lysander's love, that would not let him bide,--; Fair Helena,--who more engilds the night; Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.; Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee know; The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so?
HERMIA: You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
HELENA: Lo, she is one of this confederacy!; Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three; To fashion this false sport in spite of me.; Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!; Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd,; To bait me with this foul derision?; Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,; The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,; When we have chid the hasty-footed time; For parting us,--O, is all forgot?; All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?; We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,; Have with our needles created both one flower,; Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,; Both warbling of one song, both in one key;; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,; Had been incorporate. So we grew together,; Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;; But yet a union in partition,; Two lovely berries moulded on one stem:; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;; Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,; Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.; And will you rent our ancient love asunder,; To join with men in scorning your poor friend?; It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:; Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,; Though I alone do feel the injury.
HERMIA: I am amazed at your passionate words:; I scorn you not; it seems that you scorn me.
HELENA: Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,; To follow me, and praise my eyes and face?; And made your other love, Demetrius,--; Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,--; To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare,; Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this; To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander; Deny your love, so rich within his soul,; And tender me, forsooth, affection,; But by your setting on, by your consent?; What though I be not so in grace as you,; So hung upon with love, so fortunate;; But miserable most, to love unlov'd?; This you should pity rather than despise.
HERMIA: I understand not what you mean by this.
HELENA: Ay, do persever, counterfeit sad looks,; Make mows upon me when I turn my back;; Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up:; This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.; If you have any pity, grace, or manners,; You would not make me such an argument.; But fare ye well: 'tis partly my own fault;; Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.
LYSANDER: Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;; My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
HELENA: O excellent!
HERMIA: Sweet, do not scorn her so.
DEMETRIUS: If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
LYSANDER: Thou canst compel no more than she entreat;; Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.--; Helen, I love thee; by my life I do;; I swear by that which I will lose for thee; To prove him false that says I love thee not.
DEMETRIUS: I say I love thee more than he can do.
LYSANDER: If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
DEMETRIUS: Quick, come,--
HERMIA: Lysander, whereto tends all this?
LYSANDER: Away, you Ethiope!
DEMETRIUS: No, no, sir:--he will; Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow:; But yet come not. You are a tame man; go!
LYSANDER: Hang off, thou cat, thou burr: vile thing, let loose,; Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
HERMIA: Why are you grown so rude? what change is this,; Sweet love?
LYSANDER: Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out!; Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!
HERMIA: Do you not jest?
HELENA: Yes, sooth; and so do you.
LYSANDER: Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
DEMETRIUS: I would I had your bond; for I perceive; A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word.
LYSANDER: What! should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?; Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.
HERMIA: What! can you do me greater harm than hate?; Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love?; Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?; I am as fair now as I was erewhile.; Since night you lov'd me; yet since night you left me:; Why then, you left me,--O, the gods forbid!--; In earnest, shall I say?
LYSANDER: Ay, by my life;; And never did desire to see thee more.; Therefore be out of hope, of question, doubt,; Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest; That I do hate thee and love Helena.
HERMIA: O me! you juggler! you cankerblossom!; You thief of love! What! have you come by night,; And stol'n my love's heart from him?
HELENA: Fine, i' faith!; Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,; No touch of bashfulness? What! will you tear; Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?; Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!
HERMIA: Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the game.; Now I perceive that she hath made compare; Between our statures; she hath urg'd her height;; And with her personage, her tall personage,; Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.--; And are you grown so high in his esteem; Because I am so dwarfish and so low?; How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;; How low am I? I am not yet so low; But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
HELENA: I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,; Let her not hurt me. I was never curst;; I have no gift at all in shrewishness;; I am a right maid for my cowardice;; Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,; Because she is something lower than myself,; That I can match her.
HERMIA: Lower! hark, again.
HELENA: Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.; I evermore did love you, Hermia;; Did ever keep your counsels; never wrong'd you;; Save that, in love unto Demetrius,; I told him of your stealth unto this wood:; He follow'd you; for love I follow'd him;; But he hath chid me hence, and threaten'd me; To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:; And now, so you will let me quiet go,; To Athens will I bear my folly back,; And follow you no farther. Let me go:; You see how simple and how fond I am.
HERMIA: Why, get you gone: who is't that hinders you?
HELENA: A foolish heart that I leave here behind.
HERMIA: What! with Lysander?
HELENA: With Demetrius.
LYSANDER: Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
DEMETRIUS: No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
HELENA: O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd:; She was a vixen when she went to school;; And, though she be but little, she is fierce.
HERMIA: Little again! nothing but low and little!--; Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?; Let me come to her.
LYSANDER: Get you gone, you dwarf;; You minimus, of hind'ring knot-grass made;; You bead, you acorn.
DEMETRIUS: You are too officious; In her behalf that scorns your services.; Let her alone: speak not of Helena;; Take not her part; for if thou dost intend; Never so little show of love to her,; Thou shalt aby it.
LYSANDER: Now she holds me not;; Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right,; Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
DEMETRIUS: Follow! nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jole.

[Exeunt LYSANDER and DEMETRIUS.]
HERMIA: You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you:; Nay, go not back.
HELENA: I will not trust you, I;; Nor longer stay in your curst company.; Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray;; My legs are longer though, to run away.

[Exit.]
HERMIA: I am amaz'd, and know not what to say.

[Exit, pursuing HELENA.]
OBERON: This is thy negligence: still thou mistak'st,; Or else commit'st thy knaveries willfully.
PUCK: 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 blameless proves my enterprise; That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes:; And so far am I glad it so did sort,; As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
OBERON: Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight;; Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;; The starry welkin cover thou anon; With drooping fog, as black as Acheron,; And lead these testy rivals so astray; As one come not within another's way.; Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,; Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;; And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;; And from each other look thou lead them thus,; Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep; With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:; Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,; To take from thence all error with his might; And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.; When they next wake, all this derision; Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;; And back to Athens shall the lovers wend; With league whose date till death shall never end.; Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,; I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;; And then I will her charmed eye release; From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
PUCK: My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,; For night's 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 lest day should look their shames upon; They wilfully exile themselves from light,; And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
OBERON: But we are spirits of another sort:; I with the morning's love have oft made sport;; And, like a forester, the groves may tread; Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,; Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,; Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.; But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:; We may effect this business yet ere day.

[Exit OBERON.]
PUCK: Up and down, up and down;; I will lead them up and down:; I am fear'd in field and town.; Goblin, lead them up and down.; Here comes one.

[Enter LYSANDER.]
LYSANDER: Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now.
PUCK: Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?
LYSANDER: I will be with thee straight.
PUCK: Follow me, then,; To plainer ground.

[Exit LYSANDER as following the voice.]

[Enter DEMETRIUS.]
DEMETRIUS: Lysander! speak again.; Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?; Speak. In some bush? where dost thou hide thy head?
PUCK: Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,; Telling the bushes that thou look'st 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.
DEMETRIUS: Yea, art thou there?
PUCK: Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here.

[Exeunt.]

[Re-enter LYSANDER.]
LYSANDER: He goes before me, and still dares me on;; When I come where he calls, then he is gone.; The villain is much lighter heeled than I:; I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly;; That fallen am I in dark uneven way,; And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day!; [Lies down.]; For if but once thou show me thy grey light,; I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite.

[Sleeps.]

[Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS.]
PUCK: Ho, ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not?
DEMETRIUS: Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot; Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place;; And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face.; Where art thou?
PUCK: Come hither; I am here.
DEMETRIUS: Nay, then, thou mock'st me.; Thou shalt buy this dear,; If ever I thy face by daylight see:; Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me; To measure out my length on this cold bed.--; By day's approach look to be visited.

[Lies down and sleeps.]

[Enter HELENA.]
HELENA: O weary night, O long and tedious night,; Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east,; That I may back to Athens by daylight,; From these that my poor company detest:--; And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,; Steal me awhile from mine own company.

[Sleeps.]
PUCK: Yet but three? Come one more;; Two of both kinds makes up four.; Here she comes, curst and sad:--; Cupid is a knavish lad,; Thus to make poor females mad.

[Enter HERMIA.]
HERMIA: Never so weary, never so in woe,; Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;; I can no further crawl, no further go;; My legs can keep no pace with my desires.; Here will I rest me till the break of day.; Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!

[Lies down.]
PUCK: On the ground; Sleep sound:; I'll apply; To your eye,; Gentle lover, remedy.

[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER'S eye.]; When thou wak'st,; Thou tak'st; True delight; In the sight; Of thy former lady's eye:; And the country proverb 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, and all shall be well.

[Exit PUCK.--DEMETRIUS, HELENA &c, sleep.]

William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act III, scene 2. (previous scene next scene)(extra scene->)

This text is in the public domain. Although I got it from Project Gutenberg, I'm not allowed to say so unless I also include their seventy-two pages of disclaimers and whatnot, so I'll take the other option they offer, and remove all reference to them, except as needed to reduce down-votes.

A Midsummer Night's Dream III.iii	A Midsummer Night's Dream IV.i	A Midsummer Night's Dream III.i	A Midsummer Night's Dream
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