ACT 2
Scene 1

...or cut bowstrings.
Enter a Fairy at one door and Robin Goodfellow at another.
How now, spirit? Whither wander you?

...come here anon.
The King doth keep his revels here tonight.
Take heed the Queen come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy stolen from an 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 withholds the lovèd 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 acorn cups and hide them there.

...not you he?
Thou speakest aright.
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal.
And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she
And “Tailor!” cries and falls into a cough,
And then the whole choir hold their hips and loffe
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But room, fairy. Here comes Oberon.

...the sea-maid’s music.
I remember.

...swim a league.
I’ll put a girdle round about the Earth
In forty minutes.
He exits.

...seek thy love.
Enter Robin.

...there? Welcome, wanderer.
Ay, there it is.

...give it me.
Robin gives him the flower.

...through this grove.
He gives Robin part of the flower.

...first cock crow.
Fear not, my lord. Your servant shall do so.
They exit.

Scene 2

...pressed! They sleep.
Enter Robin.

Through the forest have I gone,

But Athenian found I none

On whose eyes I might approve

This flower’s force in stirring love. He sees Lysander.

Night and silence! Who is here?

Weeds of Athens he doth wear.

This is he my master said

Despisèd the Athenian maid.

And here the maiden, sleeping sound

On the dank 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 doth owe. He anoints Lysander’s eyelids with the nectar.

When thou wak’st, let love forbid

Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.

So, awake when I am gone,

For I must now to Oberon.
He exits.

ACT 3
Scene 1

...to his cue.
Enter Robin invisible to those onstage.
aside
What hempen homespuns have we swagg’ring here
So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?
What, a play toward? I’ll be an auditor—
An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.

...to thee appear.
aside
A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here.
He exits.

...never tire.
Enter Robin, and Bottom as Pyramus with the ass-head.

...fly, masters! Help!

I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round,

Through bog, through bush, through brake,
through brier.

Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,

A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire,

And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn,

Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
He exits.

Scene 2

...on in extremity.
Enter Robin Goodfellow.

...this haunted grove?
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 thick-skin 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,
An ass’s noll I fixèd on his head.
Anon his Thisbe must be answerèd,
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 waked and straightway loved an ass.

...bid thee do?
I took him sleeping—that is finished, too—
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.

...the same Athenian.
This is the woman, but not this the man.
They step aside.

...false turned true.
Then fate o’errules, that, one man holding troth,
A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

...she do appear.
I go, I go, look how I go,
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.
He exits.

...her for remedy.
Enter Robin.
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!

...Demetrius to awake.
Then will two at once woo one.
That must needs be sport alone.
And those things do best please me
That befall prepost’rously.
They step aside.

...thy knaveries willfully.
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.

...into Lysander’s eye,
He gives a flower to Robin.

...shall be peace.
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 wand’ring here and there
Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They willfully themselves exile from light
And must for aye consort with black-browed night.

...yet ere day.
Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down.
I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
Here comes one.

...Speak thou now.
in Demetrius’ voice
Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?

...with thee straight.
in Demetrius’ voice
Follow me, then, to
plainer ground.

...thy head?
in Lysander’s voice
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.

...art thou there?
in Lysander’s voice
Follow my voice. We’ll try no manhood here.
They exit.

...down and sleeps.
Enter Robin and Demetrius.
in Lysander’s voice
Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com’st thou not?

...art thou now?
in Lysander’s voice
Come hither. I am here.

...down and sleeps.
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.

...down and sleeps.

On the ground

Sleep sound.

I’ll apply

To your eye,

Gentle lover, remedy. Robin applies the nectar to Lysander’s eyes.

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;
Naught shall go ill;
The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
He exits.

ACT 4
Scene 1

...and Titania sleep.
Enter Robin Goodfellow.

...as charmeth sleep!
removing the ass-head from Bottom
Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

...all in jollity.
Fairy king, attend and mark.
I do hear the morning lark.

...on the ground.
Oberon, Robin, and Titania exit.

ACT 5
Scene 1

...and new jollity.
Enter Robin Goodfellow.

Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon,

Whilst the heavy plowman snores,

All with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the screech-owl, screeching 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 sprite

In the church-way paths to glide.

And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecate’s team

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.

...break of day.

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 an honest Puck,

If we have unearnèd luck

Now to ’scape the serpent’s 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.
He exits.