A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 2, Scene 2

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; Then for the third part of a minute, hence; Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds; Some war with reremice for their leathern wings, To make my small elves coats; and some keep back The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices, and let me rest.

Come, now a dance in a ring and a fairy song; then be gone for a third of a minute. Some of you go kill the grubs in the musk-rose buds; some fight with bats for their leathery wings, to make coats for my little elves; and some of you keep off the noisy owl that hoots every night and marvels at our strange spirits. Sing me to sleep now; then go to your duties, and let me rest.

Fairies sing.

The fairies sing.

You spotted snakes with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; Newts and blind-worms do no wrong, Come not near our Fairy Queen:

You spotted snakes with forked tongues, you prickly hedgehogs, do not show yourselves; newts and slow-worms, do no harm, do not come near our Fairy Queen.

Philomel, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby: Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby. Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So good night, with lullaby.

Philomel, with your music, join in our sweet lullaby. Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby. Let no harm, no spell, no charm come near our lovely lady; so good night, with a lullaby.

Weaving spiders, come not here; Hence, you long-legg’d spinners, hence. Beetles black, approach not near; Worm nor snail do no offence.

Weaving spiders, do not come here; away with you, long-legged spinners, away. Black beetles, do not come close; neither worm nor snail do any harm.

Philomel with melody, &c.

Philomel, with your music, and so on.

Hence away! Now all is well. One aloof stand sentinel.

Away, now! All is well. Let one of you stand apart as a guard.

What thou seest when thou dost wake,

Whatever you see when you wake up,

Do it for thy true love take; Love and languish for his sake. Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear When thou wak’st, it is thy dear. Wake when some vile thing is near.

take it for your true love; love it and pine for its sake. Whether it is a lynx, or a cat, or a bear, a leopard, or a boar with bristling hair, whatever appears before your eyes when you wake will be your darling. Wake up when some foul creature is nearby.

Fair love, you faint with wand’ring in the wood. And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way. We’ll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day.

My beautiful love, you are worn out with wandering in the wood. And, to tell the truth, I have forgotten our way. We'll rest, Hermia, if you think that's best, and wait for the comfort of daylight.

Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head.

Let it be so, Lysander: find yourself a bed, because I will rest my head on this bank.

One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

One patch of grass will do as a pillow for us both: one heart, one bed, two breasts, and one faith.

Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

No, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, lie further away, don't lie so close.

O take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! Love takes the meaning in love’s conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit, So that but one heart we can make of it: Two bosoms interchainèd with an oath, So then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed-room me deny; For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

Oh, understand what I innocently mean, sweetheart! Love should catch love's meaning when lovers talk. I mean that my heart is tied to yours, so that we can make just one heart out of the two; two breasts chained together by a vow, so then two breasts and a single faith. So don't refuse me a place to sleep beside you; lying that way, Hermia, I am telling no lie.

Lysander riddles very prettily. Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied! But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy Lie further off, in human modesty, Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!

Lysander plays with words very charmingly. Curse my manners and my pride if I, Hermia, meant to say that Lysander lied! But, kind friend, out of love and courtesy, lie further off, as ordinary decency requires; the kind of distance that can rightly be said to suit a virtuous young man and an unmarried girl. Keep that far away; and good night, sweet friend. May your love never change until your sweet life ends!

Amen, amen, to that fair prayer say I; And then end life when I end loyalty! Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest!

Amen, amen, I say to that lovely prayer; and let my life end when my loyalty ends! Here is my bed. May Sleep give you all his rest!

With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed!

May half of that wish close the eyes of the one who wished it!

Through the forest have I gone, But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flower’s force in stirring love. 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; 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.

I have gone all through the forest, but I found no Athenian on whose eyes I could test this flower's power to stir up love. Night and silence! Who is here? He's wearing Athenian clothes: this is the man my master spoke of, the one who scorned the Athenian girl. And here is the girl, fast asleep on the damp, dirty ground. Pretty soul, she didn't dare lie near this loveless, courtesy-killing man. Rude fellow, I throw onto your eyes all the power this charm possesses. When you wake, may love keep Sleep from settling on your eyelid. So wake up when I am gone; for I must go to Oberon now.

Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

Wait, even if you kill me, sweet Demetrius.

I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

I order you, get away, and stop following me around like this.

O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.

Oh, will you leave me here in the dark? Don't do that.

Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.

Stay here at your own risk; I'm going on alone.

O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, wheresoe’er she lies, For she hath blessèd and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears. If so, my eyes are oftener wash’d than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear, For beasts that meet me run away for fear: Therefore no marvel though Demetrius Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus. What wicked and dissembling glass of mine Made me compare with Hermia’s sphery eyne? But who is here? Lysander, on the ground! Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound. Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.

Oh, I'm out of breath from this foolish chase! The more I beg, the less favour I get. Hermia is lucky, wherever she may be lying, because she has blessed and attractive eyes. How did her eyes get so bright? Not from salt tears. If that were it, my eyes are washed more often than hers. No, no, I'm as ugly as a bear, since the animals that meet me run away in fear. So it's no wonder that Demetrius flees from me like this, as if from a monster. What a wicked, lying mirror I have, to make me think I could compare with Hermia's starry eyes! But who is here? Lysander, on the ground! Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound. Lysander, if you're alive, good sir, wake up.

[Waking.] And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena! Nature shows art, That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

[Waking.] And I will run through fire for your sweet sake. Clear, transparent Helena! Nature works like an artist, letting me see your heart right through your breast. Where is Demetrius? Oh, what a fitting word that vile name is, to die on my sword!

Do not say so, Lysander, say not so. What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though? Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.

Don't say that, Lysander, don't say it. What does it matter if he loves your Hermia? Lord, what does it matter? Hermia still loves you. So be satisfied.

Content with Hermia? No, I do repent The tedious minutes I with her have spent. Not Hermia, but Helena I love. Who will not change a raven for a dove? The will of man is by his reason sway’d, And reason says you are the worthier maid. Things growing are not ripe until their season; So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason; And touching now the point of human skill, Reason becomes the marshal to my will, And leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook Love’s stories, written in love’s richest book.

Satisfied with Hermia? No, I regret the dull minutes I've spent with her. It's not Hermia I love, but Helena. Who wouldn't trade a raven for a dove? A man's will is guided by his reason, and reason says you are the more deserving girl. Growing things aren't ripe until their season comes; so I, being young, have only now ripened into reason. And now that I've reached the highest point of human judgement, reason takes command of my will and leads me to your eyes, where I read love's stories, written in love's richest book.

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is’t not enough, is’t not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius’ eye, But you must flout my insufficiency? Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, In such disdainful manner me to woo. But fare you well; perforce I must confess, I thought you lord of more true gentleness. O, that a lady of one man refus’d, Should of another therefore be abus’d!

Why was I born for this sharp mockery? When did I ever deserve this scorn from you? Isn't it enough, isn't it enough, young man, that I never did, and never can, deserve one kind look from Demetrius' eye, without you jeering at my shortcomings too? Truly, you wrong me, truly you do, to court me in such a contemptuous way. But goodbye; I have to admit, I thought you had more real gentleness in you. Oh, that a lady rejected by one man should for that reason be insulted by another!

She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there, And never mayst thou come Lysander near! For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings; Or as the heresies that men do leave Are hated most of those they did deceive; So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, 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!

She doesn't see Hermia. Hermia, sleep there, and may you never come near Lysander! For just as too much of the sweetest things brings the deepest disgust to the stomach, or as the false beliefs that men give up are hated most by those they once deceived, so may you, who are my overindulgence and my false belief, be hated by everyone, but most of all by me! And all my powers, devote your love and strength to honouring Helen, and to being her knight!

[Starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear. Methought a serpent eat my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel prey. Lysander! What, removed? Lysander! lord! What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word? Alack, where are you? Speak, and if you hear; Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh. Either death or you I’ll find immediately.

[Waking with a start.] Help me, Lysander, help me! Do all you can to pull this crawling snake off my breast! Oh dear, have pity! What a dream that was! Lysander, look how I'm shaking with fear. I thought a snake was eating my heart away, and you sat there smiling at its cruel feast. Lysander! What, gone away? Lysander! My lord! What, out of earshot? Gone? No sound, no word? Oh no, where are you? Speak, if you can hear me; speak, for love's sake! I'm almost fainting with fear. No? Then I can tell you're not nearby. I'll go find either death or you right now.