Tita. 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.

005 Bot. Where’s Peaseblossom?

032 Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek

033 The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. 035 But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me: I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.

038 Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. [Exeunt Fairies.

039 So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle

040 Gently entwist; the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They sleep.

Obe. [Advancing] Welcome, good Robin. See’st thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do begin to pity:

045 For, meeting her of late behind the wood,

046 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;

050 And that same dew, which sometime on the buds

Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls,

052 Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes,

Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail.

When I had at my pleasure taunted her,

055 And she in mild terms begg’d my patience,

I then did ask of her her changeling child;

057 Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent

To bear him to my bower in fairy land.

And now I have the boy, I will undo

060 This hateful imperfection of her eyes:

And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp

062 From off the head of this Athenian swain;

063 That, he awaking when the other do,

May all to Athens back again repair,

065 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.

068 Be as thou wast wont to be;

See as thou wast wont to see:

070 Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower

Hath such force and blessed power.

Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen!

Methought I was enamour’d of an ass.

Obe. There lies your love.

075 How came these things to pass?

076 O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

077 Obe. Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.

Titania, music call; and strike more dead

079 Than common sleep of all these five the sense.

080 Tita. Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! [Music, still.

081 Puck. Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

Obe. Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

Now thou and I are new in amity,

085 And will to-morrow midnight solemnly

Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,

087 And bless it to all fair prosperity:

088 There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be

Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Puck.

090 Fairy king, attend, and mark:

I do hear the morning lark.

Obe.

092 Then, my queen, in silence sad,

093 Trip we after the night’s shade:

We the globe can compass soon,

095 Swifter than the wandering moon.

Tita.

Come, my lord; and in our flight,

Tell me how it came this night,

098 That I sleeping here was found

099 With these mortals on the ground. [Horns winded within. [Exeunt.

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.

100 The. 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.

104 Uncouple in the western valley; let them go:

105 Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. [Exit an Attend.

We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top,

And mark the musical confusion

Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,

110 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,

113 The skies, the fountains, every region near

114 Seem’d all one mutual cry: I never heard

115 So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

The. 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;

119 Crook-knee’d, and dew-lapp’d like Thessalian bulls;

120 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?

125 Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;

And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;

127 This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena:

128 I wonder of their being here together.

The. No doubt they rose up early to observe

130 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?

Ege. It is, my lord.

135 The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. [Horns and shout within. Lys., Dem., Hel., and Her., wake and start up.

136 Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:

Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Lys. Pardon, my lord.

I pray you all, stand up.

I know you two are rival enemies:

140 How comes this gentle concord in the world,

141 That hatred is so far from jealousy,

To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,

Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,

145 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

149 Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,

150 Without the peril of the Athenian law.

Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:

I beg the law, the law, upon his head.

They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius,

Thereby to have defeated you and me,

155 You of your wife and me of my consent,

Of my consent that she should be your wife.

Dem. 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,

160 Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,—

162 But by some power it is,—my love to Hermia,

163 Melted as the snow, seems to me now

As the remembrance of an idle gaud,

165 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,

169 Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia:

170 But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;

But, as in health, come to my natural taste,

172 Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,

And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:

175 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,

180 Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.

Away with us to Athens! three and three,

We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.

183 Come, Hippolyta. [Exeunt The., Hip., Ege., and train.

184 Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable,

185 Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye,

When every thing seems double.

So methinks:

188 And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

189 Mine own, and not mine own.

Are you sure

190 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?

Her. Yea; and my father.

And Hippolyta.

194 Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.

195 Dem. Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him;

196 And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.

Hip. ’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.

The. More strange than true: I never may believe

These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,

005 Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend

006 More than cool reason ever comprehends.

The lunatic, the lover and the poet

Are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,

010 That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,

Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt:

012 The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;

014 And as imagination bodies forth

015 The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen

016 Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name.

Such tricks hath strong imagination,

019 That, if it would but apprehend some joy,

020 It comprehends some bringer of that joy;

021 Or in the night, imagining some fear,

How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

Hip. But all the story of the night told over,

And all their minds transfigured so together,

025 More witnesseth than fancy’s images,

And grows to something of great constancy;

But, howsoever, strange and admirable.

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.

Enter Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.

029 Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love

Accompany your hearts!

030 More than to us

031 Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!

The. Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have,

033 To wear away this long age of three hours

034 Between our after-supper and bed-time?

035 Where is our usual manager of mirth?

What revels are in hand? Is there no play,

To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?

038 Call Philostrate.

Here, mighty Theseus.

The. Say, what abridgement have you for this evening?

040 What masque? what music? How shall we beguile

The lazy time, if not with some delight?

042 Phil. There is a brief how many sports are ripe:

043 Make choice of which your highness will see first. [Giving a paper.

The. [reads] 044 The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung

045 By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.

We’ll none of that: that have I told my love,

In glory of my kinsman Hercules.

[Reads] The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,

Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.

050 That is an old device; and it was play’d

When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.

[Reads] The thrice three Muses mourning for the death

Of Learning, late deceased in beggary.

That is some satire, keen and critical,

055 Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.

[Reads] A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus

And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.

058 Merry and tragical! tedious and brief!

059 That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow.

060 How shall we find the concord of this discord?

061 Phil. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long,

Which is as brief as I have known a play;

But by ten words, my lord, it is too long,

Which makes it tedious; for in all the play

065 There is not one word apt, one player fitted:

066 And tragical, my noble lord, it is;

For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.

Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess,

Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears

070 The passion of loud laughter never shed.

The. What are they that do play it?

Phil. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,

Which never labour’d in their minds till now;

And now have toil’d their unbreathed memories

075 With this same play, against your nuptial.

076 The. And we will hear it.

No, my noble lord;

It is not for you: I have heard it over,

And it is nothing, nothing in the world;

079 Unless you can find sport in their intents,

080 Extremely stretch’d and conn’d with cruel pain,

To do you service.

081 I will hear that play;

For never any thing can be amiss,

When simpleness and duty tender it.

Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies. [Exit Philostrate.

085 Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged,

And duty in his service perishing.

The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.

Hip. He says they can do nothing in this kind.

The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.

090 Our sport shall be to take what they mistake:

091 And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect

092 Takes it in might, not merit.

Where I have come, great clerks have purposed

To greet me with premeditated welcomes;

095 Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,

Make periods in the midst of sentences,

Throttle their practised accent in their fears,

And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,

Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,

100 Out of this silence yet I pick’d a welcome;

And in the modesty of fearful duty

I read as much as from the rattling tongue

Of saucy and audacious eloquence.

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity

105 In least speak most, to my capacity.

Re-enter Philostrate.

106 Phil. So please your Grace, the Prologue is address’d.

107 The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets.

Enter Quince for the Prologue.

108 Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.

That you should think, we come not to offend,

110 But with good will. To show our simple skill,

That is the true beginning of our end.

Consider, then, we come but in despite.

We do not come as minding to content you,

114 Our true intent is. All for your delight,

115 We are not here. That you should here repent you,

The actors are at hand; and, by their show,

You shall know all, that you are like to know.

118 The. This fellow doth not stand upon points.

Lys. He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not 120 enough to speak, but to speak true.

122 Hip. Indeed he hath played on his prologue like a 123 child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.

124 The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, 125 but all disordered. Who is next?

Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion.

Pro. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;

But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.

This man is Pyramus, if you would know;

This beauteous lady Thisby is certain.

130 This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present

131 Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;

And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content

To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.

This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,

135 Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know,

By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn

To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.

138 This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,

139 The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,

140 Did scare away, or rather did affright;

141 And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,

Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.

Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,

144 And finds his trusty Thisby’s mantle slain:

145 Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,

He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast;

147 And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,

His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,

Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain

150 At large discourse, while here they do remain. [Exeunt Prologue, Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine.

The. I wonder if the lion be to speak.

Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many

asses do.

Wall. In this same interlude it doth befall

155 That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;

And such a wall, as I would have you think,

That had in it a crannied hole or chink,

158 Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,

Did whisper often very secretly.

160 This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show

That I am that same wall; the truth is so:

And this the cranny is, right and sinister,

Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?

165 Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. O grim-look’d night! O night with hue so black!

O night, which ever art when day is not!

170 O night, O night! alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisby’s promise is forgot!

172 And them, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,

173 That stand’st between her father’s ground and mine!

Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,

175 Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne! [Wall holds up his fingers.

Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!

But what see I? No Thisby do I see.

O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!

Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!

The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse 180 again.

Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. ‘Deceiving me’ 183 is Thisby’s cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her 184 through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told 185 you. Yonder she comes.

Enter Thisbe.

This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,

For parting my fair Pyramus and me!

My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,

189 Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

190 Pyr. I see a voice: now will I to the chink,

191 To spy an I can hear my Thisby’s face.

Thisby!

193 This. My love thou art, my love I think.

Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace;

195 And, like Limander, am I trusty still.

196 This. And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.

Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.

This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pyr. O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!

200 This. I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.

Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?

202 This. ‘Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay. [Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe.

Wall. Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so;

204 And, being done, thus wall away doth go. [Exit.

205 The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.

Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to

208 hear without warning.

209 Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

210 The. The best in this kind are but shadows; and the

worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.

The. If we imagine no worse of them than they of

214 themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come

215 two noble beasts in a man and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moonshine.

Lion. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear

The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,

May now perchance both quake and tremble here,

When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.

220 Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am

221 A lion-fell, nor else no lion’s dam;

For, if I should as lion come in strife

223 Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.

The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

225 Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.

Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.

The. True; and a goose for his discretion.

Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.

230 The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his 232 discretion, and let us listen to the moon.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;—

Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head.

235 The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;

238 Myself the man i’ the moon do seem to be.

The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man 240 should be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i’ the moon?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.

244 Hip. I am aweary of this moon: would he would 245 change!

246 The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time.

Lys. Proceed, Moon.

250 Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.

253 Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.

Enter Thisbe.

255 This. This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?

256 Lion. [Roaring] Oh—— [Thisbe runs off.

Dem. Well roared, Lion.

The. Well run, Thisbe.

Hip. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with 260 a good grace. [The Lion shakes Thisbe’s mantle, and exit.

261 The. Well moused, Lion.

262 Dem. And then came Pyramus.

Lys. And so the lion vanished.

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;

265 I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;

266 For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,

267 I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.

But stay, O spite!

But mark, poor knight,

270 What dreadful dole is here!

Eyes, do you see?

How can it be?

273 O dainty duck! O dear!

Thy mantle good,

275 What, stain’d with blood!

276 Approach, ye Furies fell!

O Fates, come, come,

Cut thread and thrum;

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

280 The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

Pyr. O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?

284 Since lion vile hath here deflower’d my dear:

285 Which is—no, no—which was the fairest dame

That lived, that loved, that liked, that look’d with cheer.

Come, tears, confound;

Out, sword, and wound

The pap of Pyramus;

290 Ay, that left pap,

291 Where heart doth hop: [Stabs himself.

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.

Now am I dead,

Now am I fled;

295 My soul is in the sky:

296 Tongue, lose thy light;

297 Moon, take thy flight: [Exit Moonshine.

298 Now die, die, die, die, die. [Dies.

Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.

300 Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

The. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, 303 and prove an ass.

304 Hip. How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe 305 comes back and finds her lover?

The. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.

Re-enter Thisbe.

Hip. Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.

310 Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, 311 which Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

314 Dem. And thus she means, videlicet:—

This.

315 Asleep, my love?

What, dead, my dove?

O Pyramus, arise!

Speak, speak. Quite dumb?

Dead, dead? A tomb

320 Must cover thy sweet eyes.

321 These lily lips,

322 This cherry nose,

These yellow cowslip cheeks,

Are gone, are gone:

325 Lovers, make moan:

His eyes were green as leeks.

O Sisters Three,

Come, come to me,

With hands as pale as milk;

330 Lay them in gore,

Since you have shore

332 With shears his thread of silk.

Tongue, not a word:

Come, trusty sword;

335 Come, blade, my breast imbrue: [Stabs herself.

And, farewell, friends;

Thus Thisby ends:

Adieu, adieu, adieu. [Dies.

The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

340 Dem. Ay, and Wall too.

341 Bot. [Starting up] No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company?

345 The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, 347 there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it 348 had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe’s garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and 350 very notably discharged. But, come, your Bergomask: let 351 your epilogue alone. [A dance.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:

Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.

I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn,

355 As much as we this night have overwatch’d.

This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled

The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.

A fortnight hold we this solemnity,

In nightly revels and new jollity. [Exeunt.

Enter Puck.

Puck.

360 Now the hungry lion roars,

361 And the wolf behowls the moon;

Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

363 All with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow,

365 Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,

Puts the wretch that lies in woe

In remembrance of a shroud.

Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide,

370 Every one lets forth his sprite,

371 In the church-way paths to glide:

And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecate’s team,

From the presence of the sun,

375 Following darkness like a dream,

Now are frolic: not a mouse

Shall disturb this hallow’d house:

I am sent with broom before,

379 To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter Oberon and Titania with their train.

Obe.

380 Through the house give glimmering light,

By the dead and drowsy fire:

Every elf and fairy sprite

Hop as light as bird from brier;

And this ditty, after me,

385 Sing, and dance it trippingly.

Tita.

386 First, rehearse your song by rote,

To each word a warbling note:

Hand in hand, with fairy grace,

389 Will we sing, and bless this place. [Song and dance.

Obe.

390 Now, until the break of day,

Through this house each fairy stray.

To the best bride-bed will we,

Which by us shall blessed be;

And the issue there create

395 Ever shall be fortunate.

So shall all the couples three

Ever true in loving be;

And the blots of Nature’s hand

Shall not in their issue stand;

400 Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,

Nor mark prodigious, such as are

Despised in nativity,

403 Shall upon their children be.

With this field-dew consecrate,

405 Every fairy take his gait;

And each several chamber bless,

Through this palace, with sweet peace,

408 Ever shall in safety rest,

And the owner of it blest.

410 Trip away; make no stay;

411 Meet me all by break of day. [Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train.

Puck.

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here,

415 While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

If you pardon, we will mend.

420 And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

425 So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends. [Exit.