We cannot fight for love, as men may do:
We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.
I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.

[Exeunt DEM. and HEL. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,

Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.

Re-enter PUCK.

Hast thou the flower there, welcome wanderer?
Puck. Ay, there it is.
Obe.
I pray thee, give it me.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,"
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,b
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania, sometime of the night,
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:
And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
And make her full of hateful fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
But do it when the next thing he espies
May be the lady: Thou shalt know the man
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care; that he may prove
More fond on her, than she upon her love:
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
Puck. Fear not, my lord, your servant shall

do so.

grove:

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Another part of the Wood.

Enter TITANIA with her train.

Tita. 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 rear mice for their leathern wings,

C

To make my small elves coats; and some, keep back

a So all the old copies. Steevens, who hated variety in rhythm, as he gloated on a double-entendre, gives us

"I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows."

b For the same love of counting syllables upon the fingers, the luscious woodbine of the old copies is changed into lush woodbine Farmer, who knew as little about the melody of verse as Steevens, would read

"O'er-canopied with luscious woodbine."

Mr. Collier's Corrector of the folio of 1632, would read, "Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine."

and

"Lull'd in these bowers with dances and delight." c Rear-mice-bats.

The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and

wonders

At our quaint spirits: Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices, and let me rest.

SONG. I.

1 Fui. You spotted snakes, with double tongue, Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen; Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong; Come not near our fairy queen:

CHORUS.

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.

II.

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

CHORUS.

Philomel, with melody, &c.

2 Fai. Hence, away; now all is well: One, aloof, stand sentinel.

[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps.

Enter OBERON.

Obe. What thou seest, when thou dost wake, [Squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids.

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 thon wak'st, it is thy dear;

Wake, when some vile thing is near. [Exit.

Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA.

Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering 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. Her. Be it so, Lysander, find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head.

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

Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,

Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my inno

cence;

Love takes the meaning, in love's conference.
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit ;
So that but one heart can you make of it:
Two bosoms interchained 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.

:

Her. 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!

Lys. 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!
Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes
be press'd !

Enter PUCK.

[They sleep.

Puck. Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian find 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
Despised 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 eye-lid.
So awake, when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.

[Exit.

a Interchained-is the reading of the quartos. The folio has interchanged.

b Find-is the reading of the folio, and of one of the quartos. The other quarto has found.

This is the reading of the old copies. It is evidently intended for a long line amidst those of seven or eight syl

labies.

Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demietrius.

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

Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not

SO.

Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [Exit DEMETRIUS. Hel. 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 blessed 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.

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

Hel. 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. Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do re

pent

The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena now 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.

Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery

born?

When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?

Nature show her art. The quartos read, "Nature shows art; the folio, "Nature here shows art;" this is clearly a typographical error; and we agree, with Malone, that "Nature shows her art "is more probably a genuine reading than "Nature here shows art," which is the received one.

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! [Exit.
Lys. She sees not Hermia:-Hermia, sleep
thou there;

And never may'st 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. [Exit.
Her. [starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me!
do thy best,

To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ah me, for pity!-what a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear!
Methought a serpent ate my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey:
Lysander! what, remov'd? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing ? gone? no sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? speak, an 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.

[Exit.

a Of all loves. We have this phrase in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and in Othello.

1 SCENE I." Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough briar," &c.

THEOBALD printed this passage as it appears in the folio and in one of the quartos

"Through bush, through briar."

Coleridge is rather hard upon him :-" What a noble pair of ears this worthy Theobald must have had!" He took the passage as he found it. It is remarkable that the reading was corrupted in the folio; for Drayton, in his imitation in the Nymphidia,' which was published a few years before the folio, exhibits the value of the word thorough:"

66

"Thorough brake, thorough briar,
Thorough muck, thorough mire,

Thorough water, thorough fire."

On the other hand, Steevens had not the justification of any text when he gave us―

"Swifter than the moones sphere."

Mr. Guest, in his 'History of English Rhythm,' (a work of great research, but which belongs to a disciple of the school of Pope, rather than of one nurtured by our elder poet,) observes upon the passage as we print it,

"Swifter than the moon's sphere.""The flow of Shakspere's line is quite in keeping with the peculiar rhythm which he has devoted to his fairies." This rhythm, Mr. Guest, in another place, describes as consisting of "abrupt verses of two, three, or four accents.'

2 SCENE I. "that shrewd and knavish sprite, Call'd Robin Goodfellow."

There can be no doubt that the attributes of Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, as described by Shakspere, were collected from the popular superstitions of his own day. In Harsnet's 'Declaration of Egregious Popish Impostures,' (1603,) he is mixed up as a delinquent with the friars :-" And if that the bowle of curds and creame were not duly set out for Robin Goodfellow, the frier, and Sisse the dairy-maid, why then either the pottage was burnt to next day in the pot, or the cheeses would not curdle, or the butter would not come, or the ale in the fat [vat] never would have good head." Again, in Scot's' Discoverie of Witchcraft,' (1584,) we have, "Your grandames' maids were wont to COMEDIES.-VOL. I. 2 A

set a bowl of milk for him, for his pains in grinding malt and mustard, and sweeping the house at midnight-this white bread, and bread and milk, was his standing fee." But Robin Goodfellow, does not find a place in English poetry before the time of Shakspere. He is Puck's poetical creator. The poets who have followed in his train have endeavoured to vary the character of the "shrewd and meddling elf;" but he is nevertheless essentially the same. Drayton thus describes him in the 'Nymphidia:'

"This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt,

Still walking like a ragged colt,
And oft out of a bush doth bolt,

Of purpose to deceive us;
And leading us, makes us to stray,
Long winter nights, out of the way,
And when we stick in mire and clay,

He doth with laughter leave us."

In the song of Robin Goodfellow printed in 'Percy's Reliques,' (which has been attributed to Ben Jonson,) we have the same copy of the original features:

"Yet now and then, the maids to please,
At midnight I card up their wool;
And while they sleep, and take their ease,
With wheel to threads their flax I pull.
I grind at mill

Their malt up still;

I dress their hemp, I spin their tow.
If any wake,

And would me take,

I wend me, laughing, ho, ho, ho!"

The "lubbar-fiend" of Milton is the "lob of spirits" of Shakspere. The hind, "by friar's lanthorn led,"

"Tells how the drudging Goblin sweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn,
That ten day-lab'rers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubbar-fiend,
And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength,
And crop-full out of door he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings."-(L'Allegro.)

3 SCENE II.-" Ill met by moonlight, proud
Titania," &c.

The name of "Oberon, King of Fairies," is found in Greene's 'James the IVth.' Greene died in 353

1592. But the name was long before familiar in Lord Berners' translation of the French romance of Sir Hugh of Bordeaux.' It is probable that Shakspere was indebted for the name to this source. Tyrwhitt has given his opinion that the Pluto and Proserpina of Chaucer's Marchantes Tale' were the true progenitors of Oberon and Titania. Chancer calls Pluto the "King of Faerie," and Proserpina is "Queen of Faerie;" and they take a solici tude in the affairs of mortals. But beyond this they have little in common with Oberon and Titania. In the 'Wife of Bathes Tale,' however, Shakspere found the popular superstition presented in that spirit of gladsome revelry which it was reserved for him to work out in this matchless drama :

"In olde dayes of the King Artour,

Of which that Bretons speken gret honour,
All was this land fulfilled of faerie,
The elfe-queene with her joly compagnie,
Danced ful oft in many a grene mede."

4 SCENE II.-" Playing on pipes of corn." "Pipes made of grene corne" were amongst the rustic music described by Chaucer. Sidney's 'Arcadia,' at the time when Shakspere wrote his Midsummer Night's Dream, had made pastoral images familiar to all. It is pleasant to imagine that our poet had the following beautiful passage in his thoughts:-"There were hills which gar nished their proud heights with stately trees: humble valleys, whose base estate seemed comforted with the refreshing of silver rivers: meadows, enamelled with all sorts of eye-pleasing flowers; thickets, which being lined with most pleasant shade were witnessed so too by the cheerful disposition of many well-tuned birds: each pasture stored with sheep, feeding with sober security, while the pretty lambs with bleating oratory craved the dam's comfort: here a shepherd's boy piping, as though he should never be old; there a young shepherdess knitting, and withal singing, and it seemed that her voice comforted her hands to works, and her hands kept time to her voicemusic."

5 SCENE II." Therefore, the winds, piping to us in vain," &c.

In Churchyard's Charitie,' a poem published in 1595, the "distemperature" of that year is thus described :

"A colder time in world was never seen:

The skies do lower, the sun and moon wax dim;
Summer scarce known but that the leaves are green.
The winter's waste drives water o'er the brim ;
Upon the land great floats of wood may swim.
Nature thinks scorn to do her duty right,
Because we have displeased the Lord of Light."

the signs of divine wrath with which England was visited in 1593 and 1594. The lecturer says:"Remember that the spring" (that year when the plague broke out) was very unkind, by means of the abundance of rains that fell. Our July hath been like to a February; our June even as an April: so that the air must needs be infected.".... Then, having spoken of three successive years of scarcity, he adds,-" And see, whether the Lord doth not threaten us much more, by sending such unseasonable weather, and storms of rain among us: which if we will observe, and compare it with that which is past, we may say that the course of nature is very much inverted. Our years are turned upside down. Our summers are no summers: harvests are no harvests: our seed-times are no seed-times. For a great space of time, scant any day hath been seen that it hath not rained upon us.'

our

SCENE II." The nine men's morris is filled up with mud."

Upon the green turf of their spacious commons the shepherds and ploughmen of England were wont to cut a rude series of squares, and other right lines, upon which they arranged eighteen stones, divided between two players, who moved them alternately, as at chess or draughts, till the game was finished by one of the players having all his pieces taken or impounded. This was the nine men's morris. It is affirmed that the game was brought hither by the Norman conquerors, under the name of merelles; and that this name, which signifies counters, was subsequently corrupted into morals and morris. In a wet season the lines upon which the nine men moved were "filled up with mud;" and "the quaint mazes," which the more active of the youths and maidens in propitious seasons trod "in the wanton green," were obliterated.

7 SCENE II. "My gentle Puck, come hither," &c.

The most remarkable of the shows of Kenilworth, when Elizabeth was the guest of Leicester, were associated with the mythology and the romance of lakes and seas. "Triton, in likeness of a mermaid, came towards the Queen's Majesty." "Arion appeared sitting on a dolphin's back." So George Gascoigne, in his 'Brief Rehearsal, or rather a true copy of as much as was presented before her Majesty at Kenilworth.' But Laneham describes a song of Arion with an ecstasy which may justify the belief that the "dulcet and harmonious breath" of "the sea-maid's music" might be the echo of melodies heard by the young Shakspere as he stood by the lake of Kenilworth. If Elizabeth be the "fair vestal throned by the west," of which there can be no reasonable doubt, the most appropriate scene of the mermaid's song would be Kenilworth, and "that very time" the summer of 1575.

8 SCENE III." You spotted snakes," &c. Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess' has passages which strongly remind us of the Midsummer-Night's