University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Another part of the Wood.
Enter Lysander and Hermia.
Lys.
Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood;
And to speak truth, I have forgot our way.
We'll rest us, Hermia,
And tarry for the comfort of the morn.

Herm.
Be't so, Lysander; here's my resting place,
Whilst you upon that bank repose,
That if perchance my woman's fears shou'd seek
Protection in thy love and bravery,
I may not call on love and thee in vain.

Lys.
Repose thee, love; I'll watch thee thro' the night.
No harm shall reach thee—
Sleep give thee all his rest.

Herm.
With half that wish the wisher's eyes be prest.

[They sleep.]
Enter Puck.
Puck.
Thro' the forest have I gone,
But Athenian find I none;
Night and silence!—Here is one!
With Athenian garments on!
But soft!—and nearer—yes! I swear,
The very garments he doth wear!
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid!
And here the maiden sleeping sound,
Upon the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie,
Near this lack-love, kill-courtesie!
But first I'll throw into a trance
This youth, that elves may round him dance:
Melting sounds your power impart,
That I may pierce his harden'd heart!

[Soft Music.]
Lys.
Whence is this sweet enchanting harmony!
A thicker shade o'erspreads the night! my senses,
Some secret, unknown influence feels—
I cannot shake it off; chains invisible
Already bind my limbs, and all my powers enthrall.

[He sinks down.]
Puck.
'Tis done, 'tis done! and now my skill
His breast with other love shall fill:
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe:
[Dropping the Juice in Lysander's Eye.]
So awake, when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.

[Exit.
Enter Helena, hastily.
Hel.
Still, still Demetrius, wilt thou darkling leave me?
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase;
The more my prayer, the lesser is my favour,
But who is here? Lysander on the ground:
Dead, or asleep?
Lysander, if you live, good Sir, awake.

Lys.
Who's there?

Hel.
'Tis I—'tis Helena!

Lys.
I see— (rising)
Sweet! beauteous, heavenly Helena!
Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on this sword?

Hel.
Do not say so? What though he loves your Hermia,
Yet Hermia still loves you. Be satisfied.

Lys.
Content with Hermia? no:
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes, where I can read
Love's stories written in love's richest book!
I'll run through fire for thee, sweet Helena!

Hel.
But, wherefore this?
When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?
Is 't not enough, Lysander,
That I did never, no, nor ever can,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius,
But you must mock my insufficiency?
Farewell, my Lord, and may your Hermia teach you
More true gentleness.

[Exit Helena.
Lys.
My Hermia! (sarcastically)
Sleep thou there!
For, as the heresies that men do quit,
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my heresy, a long good-night!
The star I follow, is lov'd Helen's light.

[Exit.
Herm.
Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best,
To pluck this crawling serpent from my bosom.
Ah me, for pity! what a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with horror.
Methought a serpent ate my heart away,
And you sate smiling at him. Ha! Lysander,
Lysander! what remov'd? Lysander, Lord!
Alack, where are you? Speak, and if you hear me—
(Bird Symphony.)

He cannot for these harbingers of morning—
cease, sylvan songsters, cease! while your tuneful
notes thus vibrate through the wood, in vain I
call upon my lost, lost love!

SONG—Hermia.—[Handel.]

[Exit.