A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 4, Scene 1

Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Come, sit yourself down on this flowery bed, while I stroke your lovely cheeks, and stick musk-roses in your smooth, glossy head, and kiss your beautiful big ears, my gentle joy.

Where’s Peaseblossom?

Where's Peaseblossom?

Ready.

Here.

Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s Monsieur Cobweb?

Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where's Monsieur Cobweb?

Ready.

Here.

Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get you your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where’s Monsieur Mustardseed?

Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, take your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped bumblebee on top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Don't strain yourself too much doing it, monsieur; and, good monsieur, take care the honey-bag doesn't break; I'd hate to see you flooded with a honey-bag, signior. Where's Monsieur Mustardseed?

Ready.

Here.

Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.

Give me your fist, Monsieur Mustardseed. Please, stop bowing, good monsieur.

What’s your will?

What do you want?

Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Nothing, good monsieur, except to help Cavalery Cobweb with the scratching. I must go to the barber's, monsieur, for I think I am amazingly hairy about the face; and I am such a sensitive donkey that if my hair so much as tickles me, I have to scratch.

What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?

Well, would you like to hear some music, my sweet love?

I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let us have the tongs and the bones.

I have a fairly good ear for music. Let's have the tongs and the bones.

Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.

Or tell me, sweet love, what you would like to eat.

Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Honestly, a bucketful of fodder; I could chew up some of your good dry oats. I think I have a great craving for a bundle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, has no equal.

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

I have a daring fairy who will go hunting for the squirrel's store and fetch you fresh nuts.

I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

I'd rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But please, don't let any of your people disturb me; an expedition of sleep has come over me.

Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist, the female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!

Sleep, and I will wrap you in my arms. Fairies, go away, and scatter in all directions. This is how the bindweed gently twines around the sweet honeysuckle, and how the female ivy rings the bark-covered fingers of the elm. Oh, how I love you! How I adore you!

Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For, meeting her of late behind the wood, Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her and fall out with her: For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew, which sometime on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flouriets’ eyes, Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her, And she in mild terms begg’d my patience, I then did ask of her her changeling child; Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent To bear him to my bower in fairyland. And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes. And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain, That he awaking when the other do, May all to Athens back again repair, And think no more of this night’s accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

Welcome, good Robin. Do you see this sweet sight? I'm beginning to pity her infatuation now. For, meeting her a while ago behind the wood, gathering sweet presents for this loathsome fool, I scolded her and quarrelled with her: because she had circled his hairy temples with a little crown of fresh, fragrant flowers; and that same dew, which sometimes used to swell on the buds like round, shining pearls, now stood in the eyes of the pretty little flowers, like tears weeping over their own shame. When I had taunted her as much as I liked, and she had gently begged me to be patient, I then asked her for her stolen child; and she gave him to me at once, and sent her fairy to carry him to my bower in fairyland. And now that I have the boy, I will undo this hateful spoiling of her eyes. And, gentle Puck, take this transformed skull off the head of this Athenian young man, so that when he wakes with the others, they may all go back again to Athens, and think of tonight's events as nothing more than the harsh torment of a dream. But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou was wont to see. Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.

Be as you used to be; see as you used to see. Dian's bud has such strength and blessed power over Cupid's flower. Now, my Titania, wake up, my sweet queen.

My Oberon, what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour’d of an ass.

My Oberon, what strange visions I have seen! I thought I was in love with a donkey.

There lies your love.

There lies your love.

How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

How did all this happen? Oh, how my eyes hate the sight of his face now!

Silence awhile.—Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense.

Be quiet for a moment.—Robin, take off this head. Titania, call for music; and deaden the senses of all these five more completely than ordinary sleep does.

Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep.

Music, hey, music, the kind that charms people into sleep.

Now when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

Now when you wake up, look out through your own fool's eyes.

Sound, music.

Play, music.

Come, my queen, take hands with me, And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. Now thou and I are new in amity, And will tomorrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperity: There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Come, my queen, join hands with me, and let's rock the ground where these sleepers lie. Now you and I are friends again, and tomorrow at midnight we will dance ceremonially and triumphantly in Duke Theseus' house, and bless it with every kind of good fortune. There the pairs of faithful lovers will be married, along with Theseus, all in high spirits.

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

Fairy king, listen and take note. I hear the morning lark.

Then, my queen, in silence sad, Trip we after night’s shade. We the globe can compass soon, Swifter than the wand’ring moon.

Then, my queen, in solemn silence, let us go lightly after the shadow of night. We can travel round the world faster than the wandering moon.

Come, my lord, and in our flight, Tell me how it came this night That I sleeping here was found With these mortals on the ground.

Come, my lord, and as we fly, tell me how it happened tonight that I was found sleeping here on the ground with these mortals.

Go, one of you, find out the forester; For now our observation is perform’d; And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds. Uncouple in the western valley; let them go. Dispatch I say, and find the forester.

Go, one of you, and find the forester; for our May ceremony is finished now, and since we have the early part of the day ahead of us, my love shall hear the music of my hounds. Unleash them in the western valley; let them go. Hurry, I say, and find the forester.

We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

We will go up to the mountain top, fair queen, and listen to the musical confusion of hounds and echo mixed together.

I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem’d all one mutual cry. I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

I was once with Hercules and Cadmus when they hunted the bear down in a wood in Crete with Spartan hounds. I never heard such splendid baying; for besides the groves, the skies, the springs, every area nearby seemed to be one single shared cry. I never heard such musical discord, such sweet thunder.

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew’d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee’d and dewlap’d like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla’d to, nor cheer’d with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly. Judge when you hear.—But, soft, what nymphs are these?

My hounds come from the Spartan breed, with the same hanging lips, the same sandy colour; and their heads hang down with ears that brush away the morning dew; bent-kneed and with loose folds of skin at the throat like bulls of Thessaly; slow in the chase, but tuned in voice like a set of bells, one under another. A pack more melodious was never called to or urged on by a horn, in Crete, in Sparta, or in Thessaly. Judge for yourself when you hear them.—But wait, who are these nymphs?

My lord, this is my daughter here asleep, And this Lysander; this Demetrius is; This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena: I wonder of their being here together.

My lord, this asleep here is my daughter, and this is Lysander; this is Demetrius; this is Helena, old Nedar's Helena. I'm amazed to find them here together.

No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity. But speak, Egeus; is not this the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

No doubt they got up early to perform the rites of May; and hearing of our plan, they came here to honour our ceremony. But tell me, Egeus: isn't this the day when Hermia was to give her answer about her choice?

It is, my lord.

It is, my lord.

Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.

Go, tell the huntsmen to wake them with their horns.

Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past. Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Good morning, friends. Saint Valentine's day is over. Are these woodland birds only pairing up now?

Pardon, my lord.

Forgive us, my lord.

I pray you all, stand up. I know you two are rival enemies. How comes this gentle concord in the world, That hatred is so far from jealousy To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Please, all of you, stand up. I know you two are rivals and enemies. How has this gentle agreement come into the world, so that hatred is so free of suspicion that it sleeps beside hate and fears no hostility?

My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, half waking; but as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here. But, as I think (for truly would I speak) And now I do bethink me, so it is: I came with Hermia hither. Our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be Without the peril of the Athenian law.

My lord, I'll answer in confusion, half asleep, half awake; but as yet, I swear, I can't truly say how I came here. But, as I think — for I would truly like to speak the truth — and now that I think about it, this is how it is: I came here with Hermia. Our plan was to get away from Athens, to somewhere we could be free from the danger of the Athenian law.

Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough. I beg the law, the law upon his head. They would have stol’n away, they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me: You of your wife, and me of my consent, Of my consent that she should be your wife.

Enough, enough, my lord; you have heard enough. I demand the law, the law on his head. They meant to steal away, they did, Demetrius, and so cheat you and me: you of your wife, and me of my consent, my consent that she should be your wife.

My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither to this wood; And I in fury hither follow’d them, Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, (But by some power it is) my love to Hermia, Melted as the snow, seems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gaud Which in my childhood I did dote upon; And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object and the pleasure of mine eye, Is only Helena. To her, my lord, Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia. But like a sickness did I loathe this food. But, as in health, come to my natural taste, Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will for evermore be true to it.

My lord, lovely Helen told me about their escape, about this plan of theirs to come here to this wood; and I followed them here in a rage, with fair Helena following me out of infatuation. But, my good lord, I don't know by what power — though it is by some power — my love for Hermia has melted like snow, and now seems to me like the memory of some worthless toy that I doted on in my childhood. And all the loyalty, all the goodness of my heart, the object and the delight of my eye, is Helena and no one else. It was to her, my lord, that I was engaged before I saw Hermia. But like a sick man I loathed this food. Now, restored to health, back to my natural taste, I want it, love it, long for it, and will be true to it for ever.

Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse we more will hear anon. Egeus, I will overbear your will; For in the temple, by and by with us, These couples shall eternally be knit. And, for the morning now is something worn, Our purpos’d hunting shall be set aside. Away with us to Athens. Three and three, We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity. Come, Hippolyta.

Fair lovers, this is a lucky meeting. We'll hear more of this story shortly. Egeus, I will override your wishes; for in the temple, very soon, along with us, these couples shall be joined for ever. And since the morning is now somewhat used up, the hunt we planned will be put aside. Come away with us to Athens. Three couples together, we'll hold a feast with great ceremony. Come, Hippolyta.

These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turnèd into clouds.

These things seem tiny and blurred, like distant mountains turned into clouds.

Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When everything seems double.

It seems to me that I'm seeing these things with unfocused eyes, when everything looks double.

So methinks. And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.

That's how it seems to me too. And I have found Demetrius like a jewel: mine, and not mine.

Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?

Are you sure we're awake? It seems to me that we're still asleep, still dreaming. Don't you think the Duke was here and told us to follow him?

Yea, and my father.

Yes, and my father too.

And Hippolyta.

And Hippolyta.

And he did bid us follow to the temple.

And he did tell us to follow him to the temple.

Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him, And by the way let us recount our dreams.

Why, then we are awake. Let's follow him, and on the way let's tell each other our dreams.

[Waking.] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is ‘Most fair Pyramus.’ Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life! Stol’n hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had—but man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called ‘Bottom’s Dream’, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.

[Waking.] When my cue comes, call me, and I'll answer. My next line is 'Most fair Pyramus.' Hey! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! Bless my life! They've sneaked off and left me asleep! I have had a most extraordinary vision. I have had a dream, beyond any man's wit to say what dream it was. A man is nothing but a donkey if he tries to explain this dream. I thought I was — no man can say what. I thought I was, and I thought I had — but a man is nothing but a fool in motley if he dares to say what I thought I had. The eye of man has not heard, the ear of man has not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, nor his tongue to imagine, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I'll get Peter Quince to write a ballad about this dream: it shall be called 'Bottom's Dream', because it has no bottom; and I'll sing it at the very end of a play, in front of the Duke. Possibly, to make it go down better, I'll sing it at her death.