Tita. Come, wait upon him: lead him to my bower. The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye, And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my lover's tongue1, bring him silently. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Part of the Wood. Enter OBERON. Obe. I wonder, if Titania be awak'd; Enter PUCK. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? Near to her close and consecrated bower, Tie up my LOVER's tongue,] So all the old copies; but modern editors, Malone excepted, read, " my love's tongue." 5 What NIGHT-RULE -] Night-rule in this place probably means frolic of the night. 6 A crew of PATCHES,] i. e. fools. See note 3, p. 136. 7 An ass's NOWL] i. e. Head. Anon, his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy, And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls: And left sweet Pyramus translated there; Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. 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. Obe. Stand close: this is the same Athenian. Puck. This is the woman; but not this the man. Dem. O! why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. 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. - sort,] i. e. Company. It is used in the same sense in the preceding page. - latch'd] Or letch'd, lick'd over: from lecher, Fr. to lick. The sun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have stol'n away Dem. So should the murder'd look1, and so should I, Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. 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 ! O! once tell true, tell true', e'en for my sake; An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Dem. 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. Her. I pray thee, tell me, then, that he is well. Dem. And, if I could, what should I get therefore? Her. A privilege, never to see me more.And from thy hated presence part I so3; See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. 1 So should the MURDER'D look,] The folio has murderer, which is clearly wrong: Demetrius means that he looks more like a murdered man than a murderer both quartos have "murder'd." 2 O! once tell true, TELL TRUE,] The emphatic repetition of "tell true," is not in the folio, and the measure therefore defective. And from thy hated presence part I so ;] Pope inserted "so," and it seems right; but it is not found in the old quartos nor in the folios. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein : Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow [Lies down. Obe. 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. troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Obe. 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 cost the fresh blood dear. Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. 4 Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye. Re-enter PUCK. Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, [Exit. bankrupt SLEEP-] All the old copies misprint "sleep" either slip, or slippe. The same error occurs in "Measure for Measure." See p. 18. And the youth, mistook by me, Shall we their fond pageant see? Obe. Stand aside the noise they make Puck. Then will two at once woo one; Enter LYSANDER and HELENA. Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: How can these things in me seem scorn to you, To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? 5 That must needs be SPORT ALONE ;] A coarse character, under the name of Robin Good-fellow, is introduced into the play of "Wily Beguiled," the first edition of which is dated 1606, but which must have been acted perhaps ten years earlier: there one of Robin Good-fellow's exclamations is, "Why, this will be sport alone," meaning most excellent sport. |