1st. Fai. You spotted snakes with double
Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen,
Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,
Come not near our fairy Queen.
Philomel with melody,
Sing in your sweet lullaby,
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely Lady nigh,
So good night with lullaby.
spiders come not here;
Hence, you long-leg’d spinners, hence:
Beetles black approach not near,
Worm nor snail do no offence.
Philomel with melody, &c.
away! now all is well;
One aloof stand centinel. [Exeunt Fairies.
Enter Oberon and First Fairy.
[Oberon squeeses the Juice of the Flower on the Queen’s Eyes.
Ob. What thou seest when thou dost wake,
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 what shall appear,
When thou wak’st, it is thy dear;
Wake when some vile thing is near. [Exit Ob.
1st Fai. Such the force of Magic Pow’r,
Of the juice of this small flower,
It shall jaundice so her sight,
Foul shall be fair, and black seem white;
Then shall dreams, and all their train,
Fill with Fantasies her brain;
Then, no more her darling joy,
She’ll resign her changeling boy.
End of the First Act.
Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout and Starveling.
The Queen of Fairies lying asleep.
Bot. Are we all met?
Quin. Pat, pat! and here’s a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring house, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke.
Bot. Peter Quince.
Quin. What say’st thou, Bully Bottom?
Bot. There are things in this Comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which the Ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?
Snout. By’rlaken, a parlous fear!
Starv. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.
Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well; write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not kill’d indeed; and for more better assurance tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear.
Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue, and it shall be written in eight and six.