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Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will difcharge it in either your Straw-colour Beard, your Orange-tawny Beard, your Purple-in-grain Beard, or your French-colour'd Beard, your perfe& yel

low.

Quin. Some of your French-Crowns have no Hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But Mafters here are your Parts, and I am to entreat you, requeft you, and defire you, to con them by to Morrow Night; and meet me in the Palace-Wood, a Mile without the Town, by Moonlight, there we will Rehearse; for if we meet in the City, we fhall be dog'd with Company, and our Devices known. In the mean time I will draw a Bill of Properties, such as our Play wants. I pray you fail not.

Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearse more ob-* fcenely and courageously. Take pain, be perfect, adieu. Quin. At the Duke's Oak we meet.

Bot. Enough, hold or cut Bow-ftrings.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter a Fairy at one Door, and Puck or Robin-goodfellow

Puck

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at another.

OW now Spirit, whither wander you? Fai. Over Hill, over Dale, through Bush, through Over Park, over Pale, through Flood, through Fire, (Briar, I do wander every where, fwifter than the Moon's Sphere; And I ferve the Fairy Queen, to dew her Orbs upon the The Cowflips tall her Penfioners be, In their gold Coats Spots you fee, Those be Rubies, Fairy favours, In thofe Freckles live their Savours: I must go feek fome Dew Drops here,

And hang a Pearl in every Cowflip's Ear.

Farewel thou Lob of Spirits, I'll be gone,

Our Queen and all her Elves come here anon.

(Green.

Puck The King doth keep his Revels here to Night,

Take

4

Take heed the Queen come not within his Sight,
For Oberon is paffing fell and wrath,
Because that the, as her Attendant, hath
A lovely Boy ftol'n from an Indian King,
She never had fo fweet a Changeling,
And jealous Oberon would have the Child
Knight of his Train, to trace the Forefts wild;
But the per-force with-holds the loved Boy,
Crowns him with Flowers, and makes him all her Joy:
And now they never meet in Grove, or Green,
By Fountain clear, or fpangled Star-light fleen,
But they do fquare, that all their Elves for fear
Creep into Acorn Cups, and hide them there.

Fai. Either I mistake your Shape and Making quite,
Or elfe you are that fhrew'd and knavish Sprite
Call'd Robin-goodfellow. Are you not he,
That fright the Maidens of the Villageree,
Skim Milk, and fometimes labour in the Quern,
And bootlefs make the breathlefs Hufwife chern
And fometime make the Drink to bear no Barme
Mifs-lead Night-wanderers, laughing at their Harm,
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and fweet Puck
You do their Work, and they fhall have good Luck.
Are not you he?

Puck. Thou fpeak'st aright;

I am that merry Wanderer of the Night:
I jest to Oberon, and make him fiile,
When I a fat and bean-fed Horfe beguile.
Neighing in likenefs like a filly Foal:
And fometimes lurk I in a Goffip's Bowl,
In very likeness of a roafted Crab,

And when the drinks, again her Lips I bob,
And on her whithered Dewlop pour the Ale.
The wisest Aunt telling the faddeft Tale,
Sometime for three-foot Stool mistaketh me,
Then flip I from her Bum, down topples fhe,
And Tailor cries, and falls into a Cough,

And then the whole Quire hold their Hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their Mirth, and neeze and fwear,

A merrier Hour was never wafted there.

But room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai,

Fai. And here my Mistress:

Would that we were gone.

Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one Door with his Train, and the Queen at another with hers.

Ob. I'll met by Moon-light,

Proud Titania.

Queen. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence,
I have forfworn his Bed and Company.

Ob. Tarry rash Wanton, am not I thy Lord?
Queen. Then I must be thy Lady; but I know
When thou waft ftoll'n away from Fairy Land,
And in the shape of Corin fate all Day,
Playing on Pipes of Corn, and verfing Love
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
Come from the fartheft fteep of India?
But that forfooth the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskin'd Mistress, and your Warrior Love,
To Thefeus must be wedded, and you come,
To give their Bed Joy and Profperity.

Ob. How can't thou thus for fhame, Titania,
Glance at my Credit with Hippolita,

Knowing I know thy Love to Thefeus?

Didft thou not lead him through the glimmering Night
From Peregenia, whom he ravifhed,

And make him with fair Ægle break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

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Queen. Thefe are the Forgeries of Jealoufie,
And never fince the middle Summer's Spring,
Met we on Hill, in Dale, Foreft, or Mead,
By paved Fountain, or by rufhy Brook,
Or in the beached Margent of the Sea,
To dance our Ringlets to the whiftling Wind,
But with thy Brawls thou haft difturb'd our Sport,
Therefore the Winds piping to us in vain,
As in Revenge have fuck'd up from the Sea,
Contagious Fogs; which falling in the Land,
Hath every petty R ver made fo proud,
That they have over-born their Continents.
The Ox hath therefore ftretch'd his Yoak in vain
The Ploughman loft his Sweat, and the green Corn
Hath rotted, e'er his Youth attain'd a Beard

The

The Fold ftands empty in the drowned Field,
And Crows are fatted with the Murrion Flock,
The Nine-mens-morris is fill'd up with Mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton Green,
For lack of tread are undistinguishable.

The human Mortals want their Winter here,
No Night is now with Hymn or Carol bleft;
Therefore the Moon, the Governefs of Floods,
Pale in her Anger, washes all the Air;
The Rheumatick Difeafes do abound.
And through this Diftemperature, we fee
The Seasons alter; hoary-headed Frofts
Fall in the fresh Lap of the Crimson Rose,
And on old Hyem's Chin and Icy Crown,
And odorous Chaplet of fweet Summer Buds
Is as in Mockery fet. The Spring, the Summer,
The childing Autumn, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liveries, and the amazed World,
By their increase, now knows not which is which
And this fame Progeny of Evil comes
From our Debate, from our Diffention,
We are their Parents and Original.

Ob. Do you amend it then, it lyes in you.
Why fhould Titania crofs her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling Boy,
To be my Henchman.

Queen. Set your Heart at reft,

The Fairy-land buys not the Child of me.
His Mother was a Votrefs of my Order,
And in the fpiced Indian Air by Night
Full often the hath goffipt by my fide,
And fat with me on Neptune's yellow Sands,
Marking th' embarked Traders of the Flood,
When we have laught to fee the Sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied with the wanton Wind:
Which the with pretty and with fwimming Gate,
Following (her Womb then rich with my young Squire)
Would imitate, and fail upon the Land,
To fetch me Trifles, and return again,
As from a Voyage rich with Merchandize.
But he being mortal of that Boy did dye,

And

And for her fake I do rear up her Boy,

And for her fake I will not part with him.

Ob. How long within this Wood intend you stay?
Queen. Perchance 'till after Thefeus's Wedding-day.
If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And fee our Moon-light Revels, go with us;
If not, fhun me and I will fpare your Haunts.
Ob. Give me that Boy, and I will go with thee.
Queen. Not for thy fairy Kingdom. Fairies away:
We shall chide downright, if I longer ftay.

[Exeunt. Ob. Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this Grove,

'Till I torment thee for this Injury.

My gentle Puck come hither; thou remembreft

Since that I fate upon a Promontory,

And heard a Mermaid on a Dolphin's Back,
Uttering fuch Dulcet and Harmonious Breath,
That the rude Sea grew civil at her Song,

And certain Stars fhot madly from their Sphears,
To hear the Sea-maid's Mufick.

Puck. I remember.

Ob. That very time I faw, but thou could'st not,
Flying between the cold Moon and the Earth,
Cupid all arm'd; a certain Aim he took
At a fair Vestal, throned by the Weft,
And loos'd his Love-fhaft fmartly from his Bow,
As it would pierce a hundred thousand Hearts;
But I might fee young Cupid's fiery Shaft
Quench'd in the chafte Beams of the wat❜ry Moon,
And the Imperial Votrefs paffed on,

In Maiden-Meditation, fancy-free.

Yet mark'd I where the Bolt of Cupid fell,
It fell upon a little weftern Flower;

Before, milk-white, now purple with Love's Wound,

And Maidens call it, Love in Idleness.

Fetch me that Flower; the Herb I fhew'd thee once,
The Juice of it, on fleeping Eye-lids laid,
Will make a Man or Woman madly doat
Upon the next live Creature that it fees.
Fetch me this Herb, and be thou here again.
E'er the Leviathan can fwim a League.

Puck.

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