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If ever I thy face by day-light see.
Hel. O weary night, o long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours; shine comforts from the east, That I may back to Athens by day-light,
From these that my poor company deteft; And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me a while from mine own company!
[Sleeps. Puck. Yet but three here? come one more, Two of both kinds make
Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briars,
defires : Here will I rest me 'till the break of day. Heav'ns shield Lysander, if they mean a fray !
[Lyes down. Puck. On the ground, sleep thou sound; I'll apply to your eye, gentle lover, remedy.
[Squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye. When thou wakest next, thou takest 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,
Enter queen of fairies, Bottom, fairies attending, and the
king behind them.
QUE E N.
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Bot. Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipt humble-bee on the top of a thistle, and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. 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, signior. Where's monsieur Mustardfeed ?
Bot. Give me thy neaf, monsieur Musardfeed : pray you, leave
your courtesy, good monsieur. Muf. What's
will ? Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur, for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair doth but tickle me, I must scratch. Queen. What, wilt thou hear some musick, my sweet love ? Vol. I.
Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in musick; let us have the tongs and the bones.
Mufick. Tongs, rural musick.
Bot. 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.
Queen. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dry'd pease. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
Queen. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms;
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
Be, as thou wast wont to be;
Hath such force and blessed power.
Queen. My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
06. Silence, a while; Robin, take off his head,
06. Sound, musick; come, my queen, take hand with me,
Puck. Fairy king, attend, and mark;
Ob. Then, my queen, in filence sad
Queen. Come, my lord, and, in our flight,
[Sleepers lye fill. With these mortals on the ground.
Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,