Love's Labour's Lost (version 2) - Free Audiobook

Scene II. Another part of the wood. 000

MSND III. 2 Enter Oberon.

Obe. I wonder if Titania be awaked;

Then, what it was that next came in her eye,

003 Which she must dote on in extremity.

Enter Puck.

Here comes my messenger.

004 How now, mad spirit!

005 What night-rule now about this haunted grove?

006 Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love.

Near to her close and consecrated bower,

While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,

A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,

010 That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,

Were met together to rehearse a play,

Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial-day.

013 The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,

Who Pyramus presented, in their sport

015 Forsook his scene, and enter’d in a brake:

When I did him at this advantage take,

017 An ass’s nole I fixed on his head:

Anon his Thisbe must be answered,

019 And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,

020 As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,

021 Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,

Rising and cawing at the gun’s report,

Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,

So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;

025 And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls;

He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.

Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong,

Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;

For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;

030 Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch.

I led them on in this distracted fear,

And left sweet Pyramus translated there:

When in that moment, so it came to pass,

Titania waked, and straightway loved an ass.

035 Obe. This falls out better than I could devise.

036 But hast thou yet latch’d the Athenian’s eyes

With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?

Puck. I took him sleeping,—that is finish’d too,—

And the Athenian woman by his side;

040 That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.

Enter Hermia and Demetrius.

041 Obe. Stand close: this is the same Athenian.

Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man.

Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?

Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

045 Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,

For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.

If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,

048 Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,

And kill me too.

050 The sun was not so true unto the day

As he to me: would he have stolen away

052 From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon

This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon

054 May through the centre creep, and so displease

055 Her brother’s noontide with the Antipodes.

It cannot be but thou hast murder’d him;

057 So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

058 Dem. So should the murder’d look; and so should I,

Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty:

060 Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,

As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Her. What’s this to my Lysander? where is he?

Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

064 Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.

065 Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds

Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him, then?

Henceforth be never number’d among men!

068 O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake!

069 Durst thou have look’d upon him being awake,

070 And hast thou kill’d him sleeping? O brave touch!

Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?

072 An adder did it; for with doubler tongue

Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

074 Dem. You spend your passion on a misprised mood:

075 I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood;

Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore?

Her. A privilege, never to see me more.

080 And from thy hated presence part I so:

See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit.

Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein:

Here therefore for a while I will remain.

So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow

085 For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;

Which now in some slight measure it will pay,

087 If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down and sleeps.

088 Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,

And laid the love-juice on some true-love’s sight:

090 Of thy misprision must perforce ensue

Some true love turn’d, and not a false turn’d true.

Puck. Then fate o’er-rules, that, one man holding troth,

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

094 Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind,

095 And Helena of Athens look thou find:

All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer,

097 With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear:

By some illusion see thou bring her here:

099 I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.

100 Puck. I go, I go; look how I go,

101 Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. [Exit.

Obe.

Flower of this purple dye,

Hit with Cupid’s archery,

Sink in apple of his eye.

105 When his love he doth espy,

Let her shine as gloriously

As the Venus of the sky.

When thou wakest, if she be by,

109 Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter Puck.

Puck.

110 Captain of our fairy band,

Helena is here at hand;

And the youth, mistook by me,

Pleading for a lover’s fee.

Shall we their fond pageant see?

115 Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Obe.

Stand aside: the noise they make

Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck.

Then will two at once woo one;

That must needs be sport alone;

120 And those things do best please me

That befal preposterously.

Enter Lysander and Helena.

122 Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?

123 Scorn and derision never come in tears:

Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,

125 In their nativity all truth appears.

How can these things in me seem scorn to you,

Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?

Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more.

When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!

130 These vows are Hermia’s: will you give her o’er?

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:

Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,

Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.

Lys. I had no judgement when to her I swore.

135 Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.

Dem. [Awaking] 137 O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!

To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?

Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show

140 Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!

That pure congealed white, high Taurus’ snow,

Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow

143 When thou hold’st up thy hand: O, let me kiss

144 This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!

145 Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent

To set against me for your merriment:

If you were civil and knew courtesy,

You would not do me thus much injury.

Can you not hate me, as I know you do,

150 But you must join in souls to mock me too?

151 If you were men, as men you are in show,

You would not use a gentle lady so;

To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,

When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.

155 You both are rivals, and love Hermia;

And now both rivals, to mock Helena:

A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,

To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes

With your derision! none of noble sort

160 Would so offend a virgin, and extort

A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;

For you love Hermia; this you know I know:

164 And here, with all good will, with all my heart,

165 In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part;

166 And yours of Helena to me bequeath,

167 Whom I do love, and will do till my death.

Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.

Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:

170 If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone.

171 My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn’d,

172 And now to Helen is it home return’d,

173 There to remain.

Lys. Helen, it is not so.

Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,

175 Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.

Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

Re-enter Hermia.

177 Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,

The ear more quick of apprehension makes;

Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,

180 It pays the hearing double recompense.

Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;

182 Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.

But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?

Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?

185 Her. What love could press Lysander from my side?

Lys. Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide,

Fair Helena, who more engilds the night

188 Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.

Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know,

190 The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?

Her. You speak not as you think: it cannot be.

Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!

Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three

To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.

195 Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!

Have you conspired, have you with these contrived

To bait me with this foul derision?

Is all the counsel that we two have shared,

199 The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent,

200 When we have chid the hasty-footed time

201 For parting us,—O, is all forgot?

202 All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?

We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,

204 Have with our needles created both one flower,

205 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,

Both warbling of one song, both in one key;

As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,

Had been incorporate. So we grew together,

Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;

210 But yet an union in partition,

211 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;

So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;

213 Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,

Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.

215 And will you rent our ancient love asunder,

To join with men in scorning your poor friend?

It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly:

218 Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,

Though I alone do feel the injury.

220 Her. I am amazed at your passionate words.

I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.

Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,

To follow me and praise my eyes and face?

And made your other love, Demetrius,

225 Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,

To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,

Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this

To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander

Deny your love, so rich within his soul,

230 And tender me, forsooth, affection,

But by your setting on, by your consent?

What though I be not so in grace as you,

So hung upon with love, so fortunate,

But miserable most, to love unloved?

235 This you should pity rather than despise.

Her. I understand not what you mean by this.

237 Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks,

238 Make mouths upon me when I turn my back;

Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up:

240 This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.

241 If you have any pity, grace, or manners,

You would not make me such an argument.

243 But fare ye well: ’tis partly my own fault;

Which death or absence soon shall remedy.

245 Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse:

246 My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!

Hel. O excellent!

Her.

Sweet, do not scorn her so.

Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat:

250 Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.

Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do:

I swear by that which I will lose for thee,

To prove him false that says I love thee not.

Dem. I say I love thee more than he can do.

255 Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.

Dem. Quick, come!

Her.

Lysander, whereto tends all this?

257 Lys. Away, you Ethiope!

Dem.

No, no; he’ll . . .

258 Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow,

But yet come not: you are a tame man, go!

260 Lys. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose,

Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!

Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this?

Sweet love,—

Lys. Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out!

264 Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!

Her. Do you not jest?

Hel.

265 Yes, sooth; and so do you.

Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

Dem. I would I had your bond, for I perceive

A weak bond holds you: I’ll not trust your word.

Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?

270 Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so.

271 Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate?

272 Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love!

Am not I Hermia? are not you Lysander?

I am as fair now as I was erewhile.

275 Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me:

Why, then you left me,—O, the gods forbid!—

In earnest, shall I say?

Lys.

Ay, by my life;

And never did desire to see thee more.

279 Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;

280 Be certain, nothing truer; ’tis no jest

That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

282 Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom!

You thief of love! what, have you come by night

And stolen my love’s heart from him?

Hel.

Fine, i’faith!

285 Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,

No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear

Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?

Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!

289 Her. Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game.

290 Now I perceive that she hath made compare

Between our statures; she hath urged her height;

292 And with her personage, her tall personage,

Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail’d with him.

And are you grown so high in his esteem,

295 Because I am so dwarfish and so low?

How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;

How low am I? I am not yet so low

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

299 Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,

300 Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;

I have no gift at all in shrewishness;

I am a right maid for my cowardice:

Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,

304 Because she is something lower than myself,

That I can match her.

Her.

305 Lower! hark, again.

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me

I evermore did love you, Hermia,

Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong’d you;

Save that, in love unto Demetrius,

310 I told him of your stealth unto this wood.

He follow’d you; for love I follow’d him;

But he hath chid me hence, and threaten’d me

To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:

And now, so you will let me quiet go,

315 To Athens will I bear my folly back,

And follow you no further: let me go:

You see how simple and how fond I am.

Her. Why, get you gone: who is’t that hinders you?

Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.

Her. What, with Lysander?

Hel.

320 With Demetrius.

321 Lys. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.

Dem. No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.

323 Hel. O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd!

She was a vixen when she went to school;

325 And though she be but little, she is fierce.

Her. Little again! nothing but low and little!

Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?

Let me come to her.

Lys.

Get you gone, you dwarf;

329 You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made;

You bead, you acorn.

Dem.

330 You are too officious

In her behalf that scorns your services.

Let her alone: speak not of Helena;

Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend

Never so little show of love to her,

335 Thou shalt aby it.

Lys.

Now she holds me not;

Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right,

337 Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Dem. Follow! nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jole. [Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius.

Her. You, mistress, all this coil is ’long of you:

Nay, go not back.

Hel.

340 I will not trust you, I,

Nor longer stay in your curst company.

Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,

My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit.

344 Her. I am amazed, and know not what to say. [Exit.

345 Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistakest,

346 Or else committ’st thy knaveries wilfully.

Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.

Did not you tell me I should know the man

349 By the Athenian garments he had on?

350 And so far blameless proves my enterprise,

351 That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes;

352 And so far am I glad it so did sort,

As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Obe. Thou see’st these lovers seek a place to fight:

355 Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;

The starry welkin cover thou anon

357 With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;

And lead these testy rivals so astray,

As one come not within another’s way.

360 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

365 With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:

Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye;

Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,

368 To take from thence all error with his might,

And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.

370 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.

374 Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,

375 I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;

And then I will her charmed eye release

From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.

Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,

379 For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,

380 And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger;

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,

Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,

That in crossways and floods have burial,

Already to their wormy beds are gone;

385 For fear lest day should look their shames upon,

386 They wilfully themselves exile from light,

And must for aye consort with black-brow’d night.

Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:

389 I with the morning’s love have oft made sport;

390 And, like a forester, the groves may tread,

Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,

392 Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,

393 Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.

394 But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:

395 We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit.

Puck.

396 Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down:

I am fear’d in field and town:

Goblin, lead them up and down.

400 Here comes one.

Re-enter Lysander.

Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now.

Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?

Lys. I will be with thee straight.

Puck.

Follow me, then,

To plainer ground. [Exit Lysander, as following the voice.

Re-enter Demetrius.

Dem.

Lysander! speak again:

405 Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?

406 Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,

Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars,

And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child;

410 I’ll whip thee with a rod: he is defiled

That draws a sword on thee.

Dem.

Yea, art thou there?

Puck. Follow my voice: we’ll try no manhood here. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Lysander.

413 Lys. He goes before me and still dares me on:

414 When I come where he calls, then he is gone.

415 The villain is much lighter-heel’d than I:

416 I follow’d fast, but faster he did fly;

That fallen am I in dark uneven way,

And here will rest me. [Lies down.] 418 Come, thou gentle day!

For if but once thou show me thy grey light,

420 I’ll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.

Re-enter Puck and Demetrius.

421 Puck. Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why comest thou not?

Dem. Abide me, if thou darest; for well I wot

Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place,

And darest not stand, nor look me in the face.

425 Where art thou now?

Puck.

425 Come hither: I am here.

426 Dem. Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this dear,

If ever I thy face by daylight see:

Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me

To measure out my length on this cold bed.

430 By day’s approach look to be visited. [Lies down and sleeps.

Re-enter Helena.

431 Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,

432 Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east,

That I may back to Athens by daylight,

From these that my poor company detest:

435 And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,

436 Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Lies down and sleeps.

437 Puck. Yet but three? Come one more;

438 Two of both kinds makes up four.

439 Here she comes, curst and sad:

440 Cupid is a knavish lad,

Thus to make poor females mad.

Re-enter Hermia.

442 Her. Never so weary, never so in woe;

Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;

I can no further crawl, no further go;

445 My legs can keep no pace with my desires.

Here will I rest me till the break of day.

447 Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lies down and sleeps.

Puck.

On the ground

449 Sleep sound:

450 I’ll apply

451 To your eye,

452 Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander’s eyes.

When thou wakest,

454 Thou takest

455 True delight

In the sight

Of thy former lady’s eye:

And the country proverb known,

That every man should take his own,

460 In your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill;

Nought shall go ill;

463 The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. [Exit.