Bottom Where's Peaseblossom? Peaseblossom Ready. Bottom Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where's Monsieur Cobweb? Cobweb Ready. Bottom Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped bumble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honeybag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honeybag break not. I would be loath to have you overflown with a honeybag, signor. [Exit Cobweb] Where's Monsieur Mustardseed? Mustardseed Ready. Bottom Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Mustardseed What's your will? Bottom Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavaliery Peaseblossom to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me I must scratch. Read more about Act 4, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Cavaliery"
Bottom Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped bumble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honeybag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honeybag break not. I would be loath to have you overflown with a honeybag, signor. Read more about Act 4, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Honeybag"
Oberon I with the morning's love have oft made sport, And, like a forester, the groves may tread, Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red Opening on Neptune with fair blessèd beams Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. But notwithstanding, haste, make no delay; We may effect this business yet ere day. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "salt green streams"
Robin (Puck) My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, At whose approach ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all, That in crossways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone, For fear lest day should look their shames upon. They willfully themselves exiled from light, And must for aye consort with black-browed night. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "Damnèd spirits"
Robin (Puck) My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, At whose approach ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all, That in crossways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone, For fear lest day should look their shames upon. They willfully themselves exiled from light, And must for aye consort with black-browed night. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "home to churchyards"
Oberon Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight. Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog as black as Acheron, And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another's way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong, And sometime rail thou like Demetrius. And from each other look thou lead them thus Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye, Whose liquor hath this virtuous property: To take from thence all error with his might, And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision, And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy, And then I will her charmèd eye release From monster's view, and all things shall be peace. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "monster"
Oberon Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight. Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog as black as Acheron, And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another's way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong, And sometime rail thou like Demetrius. And from each other look thou lead them thus Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye, Whose liquor hath this virtuous property: To take from thence all error with his might, And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision, And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy, And then I will her charmèd eye release From monster's view, and all things shall be peace. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "death-counterfeitng sleep"
Lysander Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in Helena. Demetrius Follow? Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "cheek by jowl"
Lysander You minimus of hind’ring knot-grass made, Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: “minimus of hind’ring knot-grass”
Demetrius When thou hold'st up thy hand. O, let me kiss This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss! Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "seal of bliss"
