Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers
The ousel cock, so black of hue, With orange-tawny bill, The throstle with his note so
true, The wren with little quill. TITANIA What angel wakes me from my flow’ry bed?
BOTTOM [Sings] The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, The plain-song cuckoo grey,
Whose note full many a man doth mark, And dares not answer nayfor, indeed, who
would set his wit to so foolish a bird? Who would give a bird the he, though he cry
‘cuckoo’ never so? TITANIA I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again.
Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note; So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; And
thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me, On the first view, to say, to swear, I love
BOTTOM Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that.
And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days.
The more the pity that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can
gleek upon occasion.
TITANIA Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
BOTTOM Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have
enough to serve mine own turn.
TITANIA Out of this wood do not desire to go; Thou shalt remain here whether thou
wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate; The summer still doth tend upon my state; And I do
love thee; therefore, go with me.
I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee; And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep; And I will purge thy mortal
grossness so That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
Enter PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, and MUSTARDSEED
COBWEB And I.
MOTH And I.
MUSTARDSEED And I.
ALL Where shall we go? TITANIA Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his
walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple
grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And for
night-tapers crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm’s eyes, To
have my love to bed and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, To fan
the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
PEASEBLOSSOM Hail, mortal!
I cry your worships mercy, heartily; I beseech your worship’s name.