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Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA.
Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood;
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet-do not lie so near.
Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Love takes the meaning, in love's conference.
mean, that my heart unto yours is knit ;
So that but one heart we can make of it:
Her. Lysander riddles very prettily:-
So far be distant; and good-night, sweet friend:
Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest!
Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd!
Through the forest have I gone,
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
All the power this charm doth owe:
[Squeezes the flower on LYSANDER's eyelids.
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.
For I must now to Oberon.
Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running.
Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.
Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, whereso'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me, run away for fear:
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Lys. (Awaking.) And run through fire I will, for thy sweet sake.
Transparent Helena! Nature shews her art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
Good troth, you do me wrong-good sooth, you do~
But fare you well: perforce I must confess
Should of another therefore be abus'd!
Lys. She sees not Hermia.-Hermia, sleep thou there; And never may'st thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Of all be hated; but the most of me!
And, all my powers, address your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her knight !
Her. [Awaking.] Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ah for pity!-what a dream was here!
Bot. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your, father.-Act III. Sc. 1.
SCENE I-The same. Titania, Queen of Fairies, lying asleep. Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING. Bot. Are we all met?
Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green-plot shall be our stage, this hawthornbrake our 'tiring-house;1 and we will do it in action as we will do it before the duke.
Bot. Peter Quince
Quin. What say'st thou, Bully Bottom?
Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?
Snout. By'r lakin, a parlous fear.2
Star. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.