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there.

      But room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

       Fairy.

      And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!

       Enter the King of Fairies [Oberon] at one door with his Train, and the Queen [Titania] at another with hers.

       Obe.

      Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.

       Tita.

      What, jealous Oberon? [Fairies,] skip hence—

      I have forsworn his bed and company.

       Obe.

      Tarry, rash wanton! Am not I thy lord?

       Tita.

      Then I must be thy lady; but I know

      When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,

      And in the shape of Corin sat all day,

      Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love,

      To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here

      Come from the farthest steep of India?

      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.

       Obe.

      How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,

      Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,

      Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?

      Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering night

      From Perigenia, whom he ravished?

      And make him with fair [Aegles] break his faith,

      With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

       Tita.

      These are the forgeries of jealousy;

      And never, since the middle summer’s spring,

      Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,

      By paved fountain or by rushy brook,

      Or in the beached margent of the sea,

      To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,

      But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport.

      Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,

      As in revenge, have suck’d up from the sea

      Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land,

      Hath every pelting river made so proud

      That they have overborne their continents.

      The ox hath therefore stretch’d his yoke in vain,

      The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn

      Hath rotted ere his youth attain’d a beard.

      The fold stands empty in the drowned field,

      And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;

      The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,

      And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,

      For lack of tread, are undistinguishable.

      The human mortals want their winter here;

      No night is now with hymn or carol blest.

      Therefore the moon (the governess of floods),

      Pale in her anger, washes all the air,

      That rheumatic diseases do abound.

      And thorough this distemperature, we see

      The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts

      Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,

      And on old Hiems’ [thin] and icy crown

      An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds

      Is, as in mockery, set; the spring, the summer,

      The childing autumn, angry winter, change

      Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world,

      By their increase, now knows not which is which.

      And this same progeny of evils comes

      From our debate, from our dissension;

      We are their parents and original.

       Obe.

      Do you amend it then; it lies in you.

      Why should Titania cross her Oberon?

      I do but beg a little changeling boy,

      To be my henchman.

       Tita.

      Set your heart at rest;

      The fairy land buys not the child of me.

      His mother was a vot’ress of my order,

      And in the spiced Indian air, by night,

      Full often hath she gossip’d by my side,

      And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands,

      Marking th’ embarked traders on the flood;

      When we have laugh’d to see the sails conceive

      And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;

      Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait,

      Following (her womb then rich with my young squire)

      Would imitate, and sail upon the land

      To fetch me trifles, and return again,

      As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.

      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.

       Obe.

      How long within this wood intend you stay?

       Tita.

      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.

       Obe.

      Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

       Tita.

      Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!

      We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.

       Exeunt [Titania and her Train].

       Obe.

      Well; go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove

      Till I torment thee for this injury.

      My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb’rest

      Since once I sat upon a promontory,

      And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back

      Uttering such

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