The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene,
For lacke of tread are vndiſtinguiſhable.
The humane mortals want their winter heere,
No night is now with hymne or caroll bleſt;
Therefore the Moone (the gouerneſſe of floods)
Pale in her anger, waſhes all the aire;
That Rheumaticke diſeaſes doe abound.
And through this diſtemperature, we ſee
The ſeaſons alter; hoared headed froſts
Fall in the freſh lap of the crimſon Roſe,
And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne,
An odorous Chaplet of ſweet Sommer buds
Is as in mockry ſet. The Spring, the Sommer,
The childing Autumne, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world,
By their increaſe, now knowes not which is which;
And this ſame progeny of euills,
Comes from our debate, from our diſſention,
We are their parents and originall.
Do you amend it then, it lies in you,
Why ſhould Titania croſſe her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my Henchman
Set your heart at reſt,
The Fairy land buyes not the childe of me,
His mother was a Votreſſe of my Order,
And in the ſpiced Indian aire, by night
Full often hath ſhe goſſipt by my ſide,
And ſat with me on Neptunes yellow ſands,
Marking th’embarked traders on the flood,
When we haue laught to ſee the ſailes conceiue,
And grow big bellied with the wanton winde:
Which ſhe with pretty and with ſwimming gate,
Following (her wombe then rich with my yong ſquire)
Would imitate, and ſaile vpon the Land,
To fetch me trifles, and returne againe,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
But ſhe being mortall, of that boy did die,
And for her ſake I doe reare vp her boy,
And for her ſake I will not part with him.
How long within this wood intend you ſtay?
Perchance till after Theſeus wedding day.
If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And ſee our Moone-light reuels, goe with vs;
If not, ſhun me and I will ſpare your haunts
Giue me that boy, and I will goe with thee.
Not for thy Fairy Kingdome. Fairies away:
Wel, go thy way: thou ſhalt not from this groue,
Till I torment thee for this iniury.
My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembreſt
Since once I ſat vpon a promontory,
And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,
Vttering ſuch dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude ſea grew ciuill at her ſong,
And certaine ſtarres ſhot madly from their Spheares,
To heare the Sea-maids muſicke.
That very time I ſay (but thou couldſt not)
Flying betweene the cold Moone and the earth,
Cupid all arm’d; a certaine aime he tooke
At a faire Veſtall, throned by the Weſt,
And loos’d his loue-ſhaft ſmartly from his bow,
As it ſhould pierce a hundred thouſand hearts,
But I might ſee young Cupids fiery ſhaft
Quencht in the chaſte beames of the watry Moone;
And the imperiall Votreſſe paſſed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy free.
Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell vpon a little weſterne flower;
Before, milke-white: now purple with loues wound,
And maidens call it, Loue in idleneſſe.
Fetch me that flower; the hearb I ſhew’d thee once,
The iuyce of it, on ſleeping eye-lids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Vpon the next liue creature that it ſees.
Fetch me this hearbe, and be thou heere againe,
Ere the Leuiathan can ſwim a league.
Ile put a girdle about the earth, in forty minutes.
Hauing once this iuyce,
Ile watch Titania, when ſhe is aſleepe,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing when ſhe waking lookes vpon,
(Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull,
On medling Monkey, or on buſie Ape)
Shee ſhall purſue it, with the ſoule of loue.
And ere I take this charme off from her ſight,
(As I can take it with another hearbe)
Ile make her render vp her Page to me.
But who comes heere? I am inuiſible,
And I will ouer-heare their conference.
Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
I loue thee not, therefore purſue me not,
Where is Lyſander, and faire Hermia?
The one Ile ſtay, the other ſtayeth me.
Thou toldſt me they were ſtolne into this wood;
And heere am I, and wood within this wood,
Becauſe I cannot meet my Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,
But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart
Is true as ſteele. Leaue you your power to draw,
And I ſhall haue no power to follow you.
Do I entice you? do I ſpeake you faire?
Or rather doe I not in plaineſt truth,
Tell you I doe not, nor I cannot loue you?
And euen for that doe I loue thee the more;
I am your ſpaniell, and Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawne on you.
Vſe me but as your ſpaniell; ſpurne me, ſtrike me,
Neglect me, loſe me; onely giue me leaue
(Vnworthy as I am) to follow you.
What worſer place can I beg in your loue,
(And yet a place of high reſpect with me)
Then to be vſed as you doe your dogge.
Tempt not too much the hatred of my ſpirit,
For I am ſicke when I do looke on thee.
And I am ſicke when I looke not on you.
You doe impeach your modeſty too much,
To leaue the Citty, and commit your ſelfe
Into the hands of one that loues you not,
To truſt the opportunity of night.
And the ill counſell of a deſert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.
Your vertue is my priuiledge: for that
It is not night when I doe ſee your face.
Therefore I thinke I am not in the night,
Nor doth this wood lacke worlds of company,