| Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. | What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence: I have forsworn his bed and company. |
| Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord? | Then I must be thy lady: Why art thou here, But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskin’d mistress and your warrior love, To Theseus must be wedded, and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity. |
| Knowing I know they love to Theseus? | These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never, since the middle summer’s spring, Met we on hill in dale, forest or mead, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport. |
| I do but beg a little changeling boy, to be my henchman. | set your heart at rest: The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a votaries of my order: But she, being mortal, of that boy did die: And for her sake do I rear up her boy, And for her sake I will not part with him. |
| How long within this wood intend you stay? | Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding-day. If you will patiently dance in our round And see our moonlight revels, go with us; If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts. |
| Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. | Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away! We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. |
| I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. | What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again: Mine ear is much enamour’d of thy note; So mine eye enthralled to they shape; And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me on the first view to say to swear, I love thee. |
| truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days. | Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. |
| I have enough to serve mine own turn. | Out of this wood do not desire to go: Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. |
| Start Scene 7 | Com, 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 they fear large ears, my gentle joy. |
| my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch | What, wilt thou hear some, music, my sweet love? |
| Let’s have the tongs and the bones | Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. |
| good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. | Sleep though and I will wind thee in my arms. |
| But firs I will release the fairy queen. | My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour’d of an ass. |
| There lies your love. | How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! |
| Fairy king, attend, and mark: I do hear the morning lark. | Come, my lord, and in our flight Tell me how it came this night That I sleeping here was found With these mortals on the ground. |
Midsummer Night’s Dream (Titania)
July 15, 2019