Fireside Folktales presents A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. Act 2, Scene 2.
I wonder if Titania be awaked. Then what it was that next came in her eye, which she must die wrote on in extremity. Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit? What night rule now about this haunted grove?
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 that work for bread upon Athenian stalls were met together to rehearse a play intended for great Theseus nuptial day. The shallowest thick skin of that barren sort who Pyramus presented in their sport forsook his scene and entered in a break. When I did him at this advantage take an ass's knoll I fixed on his head. Anon his thisbe must be answered. And forth my mimic comes when they him spy as wild geese, that the creeping fowler eye or russet painted choughs, many in sort, rising and cawing at the guns reported sever themselves and madly sweep the sky. So at his sight away his fellows fly, 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 briars and thorns at their apparel snatch some sleeves, some hats, from yielders, all things catch. I led them on in this distracted fear and left sweet Purebus translated there. When in that moment so it came to pass, Titania waked and straight away loved an ass.
This falls out better than I could devise. But hast thou yet latched the Athenian's eyes with the love juice, as I bid thee do?
I took him sleeping. That is finished too. And the Athenian woman by his side, that when he waked of force, she must be eyed.
Stand close. This is the same Athenian.
Mm.
This is the woman, but not this the man.
Why rebuke you, him that loves you so, Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe?
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, being o' er shoes and blood plunge in the deep and kill me too. The son was not so true unto the day as he to be me. Would he have stolen away from sleeping Hermia. I'll believe, as soon this whole earth may be bored, and that the moon may through the center creep, and so displease her Brother, noontide with the Antipodes. It cannot be but thou hast murdered him. So should a murderer look so dead.
So grim, so should the murdered look, and so should I pierce through the heart with your stern cruelty. Yet you, the murderer, look as bright as clear as yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
What's this to my Lysander? Where is he? How, good Demetrius, Wilt thou give him to me?
Yeah, I'd rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Out, dog. Out, cur. Thou drivest me past the bounds of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him? Then henceforth be never numbered among men. Oh, once, tell true, tell true. Even for my sake durst thou have looked upon him being awake. And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch. Could not a worm and adder do so much an adder did it. For with doubler tongue than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
You spend your passion on a mispronounce mood. I am not guilty of Lysander's blood, nor is he dead, for aught I can tell.
I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well.
And if I could, what should I get there for?
O, a privilege never to see me more, and from thy hated presence part. I so see me no more. Whether he be dead or no.
There is no following her in this fierce vein here. Therefore for a while I will remain so. Sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow for debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe, which now in some slight measure I will pay. If for his tender here I make some. Stay.
What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite and laid the love juice on some true love's sight. Of thy misprision must perforce ensue Some true love turned, and not a false turned true.
Then fate o' errules that one man holding troth a million fail confounding oath.
On oath about the wood go, swifter than the wind. And Helena of Athens look thou find all fancy sick she is, and pale of cheer, with sighs of love that cost the fresh blood dear. By some illusion see thou bring her here. I'll charm his eyes against she do.
Appear, I go, I go. Look how I go. Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
Flower of this purple dye, hit with Cupid's archery sink an apple of his eye. When his love he doth espy, let her shine as gloriously as the Venus of the sky. When thou wakest, if she be by, beg of her for remedy.
Captain of Our fairy band, Helena, is here at hand, and the youth mistook by me, pleading for a lover's feet, shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals must be.
Stand aside. The noise they make will cause Demetrius to awake.
Then will two at once woo one. Yes, that must needs be sport alone, and those things do best please me, that befall preposterously.
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears. Look, when I vow, I weep. And vows so born, 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?
You do advance your cunning more and more. When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray. These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her ore? 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 tails.
I had no judgment when to her.
I swore, nor none in my mind. Now you give her oar.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
O Helen, goddess, nip. Perfect, divine. To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. Oh, how ripe in. Show thy lips, those kissing cherries tempting grow, that pure congealed white high Taurus snow, fanned with the eastern wind, turns to a crow when thou hold' st a thy hand. Oh, let me kiss this princess of pure white, the seal of bliss.
Oh, fight. Oh, hell. I see you are all 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? But you must join in souls to my mock me too. If you were men, as men you are in show, you would not use a gentle lady so to vow and swear, and super praise my parts, when I am sure you hate me with your hearts. 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. With your derision. None of noble sort would so offend a virgin and extort a poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
You are unkind, Demetrius. Be not so. For you love Hermia, this you know I know. And here with all good will, with all my heart. In Hermia's love, I yield you up my part and yours of Helena to me bequeath whom I do love, and will do till my death never did.
Mockers born waste More idle breath.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia. I will none if ere I loved her all that love is gone, my heart to her but as guestwise sojourned. And now to Helen. It is home returned, there to remain.
Helen, it is not so.
Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, lest to thy peril thou aby it dear. Look where thy love comes. Yonder is thy dear dark night, that.
From the eye his function takes, the ear more quick of apprehension makes, wherein it doth impair the seeing sense it pays the hearing double recompense. Thou art not by mine eye. Lysander found mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?
What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lysander's love, that would not let him bide. Fair Helena, whom mourn guilts than night, Then all yon fiery o's in eyes of light, why seek' st thou me? Could not this make thee know the hate I bear thee, made me lead thee so?
You.
You speak not as you think. It cannot be.
Lo. She is one of this confederacy. Now I perceive they have conjoined, all three, to fashion this false sport in spite of me. 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, the sisters vows, the hours that we have spent, when we have chid the hasty footed time for parting us? Oh, is all forgot, all school days, friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, have with our needles created both one flower, 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, but yet a union in partition, two lovely berries moulded on one stem. So, with two seeming bodies but one heart, two of the first, like coats and heraldry do but to one and crown it with one crest. And will you rent our ancient love asunder, to join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly. Tis not maidenly our sex as well as I may chide you for it, though I alone do feel the injury.
I am amazed at your passionate words. I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me.
Have you not set Lysander as in scorn to follow me and Praise my eyes and face. And made your other love, Demetrius, who even but now did so burn 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, and tender me forsooth affection? But by your setting on, by your consent. What though I be not so in graces, yet so hung upon with love, so fortunate, but miserable most to love unloved, this you should pity rather than despise.
I understand not what you mean by this.
I do persever, counterfeit sad looks. Make mouths upon me when I turn my back. Wink at each other. Hold the sweet, jest up. This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, you would not make me such an argument. But fare ye well. Tis partly my own fault, which death or absence soon shall remedy.
Stay, gentle Helena, Hear my excuse. My love, my life, my soul. Fair Helena.
O excellent sweet, do not speak.
Scored her soul.
If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
Thou canst compel no more than she entreat. 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, says I love thee not.
I say I love thee more than he can do.
If thou say so, then withdraw and prove it too.
Quick.
Come, Lysander. Where to tends all this?
Away with you.
No, no, he will seem to break loose. Take on as you would follow. But yet come not. You are a tame man.
Go, hang off, thou cat. Thou burr. Vile thing, Let loose, or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
Ah, why are you grown so rude? What change has this sweet love?
Thy love. Out, tarny, Tartar, out.
Out.
Loathed medicine. O hated potion, hence.
Do you not jest?
Yes, sooth, and so do you.
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
I would I had your bond, for I perceive a weak bond holds you. I'll trust not your word.
What, should I hurt her? Strike her? Kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her.
So what can you do me greater harm than hate? 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. 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?
Ay, by my Life, and never did desire to see thee more. Therefore be out of hope. Hope of question, of doubt. Be certain nothing truer. Tis no jest that I do hate thee and love Helena.
O me. You juggler. You canker blossom. You thief of love. What, have you come by night and stolen my love's heart from me?
Fine, in faith. 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 puppet.
Why so? Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath compared between our statures. She hath urged her height and with her personage, her tall personage, her height. Forsooth, she hath prevailed with him. And are you so high in his esteem? 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.
I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, let her not hurt me. I was never cursed. I have no gift at all in shrewd. I am a right mate for my cowardice. Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think because she is something lower than my soul.
Lower?
Hark again, good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, did ever keep your counsels. Never wronged you, save that in love unto Demetrius. I told you him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you for love. I followed him, but he hath chid me hence and threatened me. To strike me, spurn me. Nay, to kill me too. And now so you will let me quiet, go 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.
Why, get you gone. Who is that hinders you?
A foolish heart that I leave here behind.
What, with Lysander?
With Demetrius.
Be not afraid. She shall not harm thee, Helena.
No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
Oh, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a fix when she went to school. And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Little again, nothing but low and little. Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her.
Get you gone, you dwarf. You minimus of hindering not grass. Maid bead, you acorn.
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. Thou shalt aby it.
Now she holds me not. Now follow, if thou to try whose right of thine or mine is most in Helena follow.
Nay, I'll go with thee.
Cheek, by Joel, you, mistress, all this coil is long for you. Nay, go not back.
I will not trust you. I no longer stay in your cursed company. Your hands than mine are quicker for affray. My legs are longer, though so run away.
I am amazed, and know not what to say.
This is thy negligence. Still thou mistakest, or else commits thy knaveries willfully.
Believe me, king of shadows. I mistook. Did you not tell me I should know the man? By the authority Athenian garments he had on. And so far blameless proves my enterprise that I have anointed an Athenian's eyes. And so far am I glad it so did sort as this their jangling I esteem a sport.
Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight high. Therefore, robin, overcast the night. The starry welkin cover thou anon with drooping foam, 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 its virtuous property to take from thence all error with his might, and make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When next they wake, all this derision shall seem a dream, a fruitless vision. And back to Athens shall the lovers wend with league, whose date till death shall never end. While I in this affair do the employ, 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.
My fairy lord, this must be done with haste. For knights with dragons cut the cloud fold fast. And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, at whose approach ghosts wandering here and there troop home to churchyards damaged spirits all that on their crossways and floods have burial already. To their wormy beds are gone in fear, lest they should look their shames upon they willfully themselves exile from light. And must for I consort with black browed knight.
But we are spirits of another sort. 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 blessed beams, turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. But notwithstanding haste, make no delay. We may effect this business yet ere day.
Up and down, up and down. I will lead them up and down. Up and down, up and down. I will lead them up and down. I am feeling fuel in town. Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now?
Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?
I will be with thee straight.
Follow me then, to plainer. Lysander, speak again. Thou runaway, thou coward. Art thou fled? Speak in some bush. Where dost thou hide thy head, thou coward?
Art thou bragging to the stars, telling the bushes that thou lookest for wars and wilt not?
Come, come, recreant. Come, thou child. I'll whip thee with a rod. He's defiled that draws a sword on thee.
Yea. Art thou there?
Follow my voice. We'll try no manhood here.
He goes before me, and still dares me on. When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter healed than I. I followed fast, but faster he did fly that fallen am I in dark uneven way. And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day, for if but once thou show me thy grey light, I'll find Demetrius and revenge this spite.
O coward, why comest thou not?
Not.
Abide me, if thou darest? For well I wot. Thou run' st before me, shifting every place, and darest not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou come hither?
I am here.
Nay, then thou mock' st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, if ever thy face by daylight see. Now go thy way. Faintness constrainteth me to measure out my length on this cold bed. By day's approach look to be visited.
O weary night. O long and tedious night, abate thy hours, shine comforts from the east that I may back to Athens by daylight, from these that my poor company detest, and sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, steal me awhile from mine own company.
1. 2. Yet but three. Come one more. Two of both kind makes up four. Four. Ah, here she comes, cursed and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad.
Never so weary, never so in woe, but dabbled with dew and torn with briars. I can no further crawl, no further go. My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day. Heavens shield Lysander if they mean to fray.
On the ground Sleep sound I'll apply to your eye Gentle lover remedy when thou wak', st thou takest true delight in the sight of thy former lady's eye and the country proverb known that every man should take his own in your waking shall be shown Jack shall have Jill, naught shall go ill, the man shall have his Marigan and all shall be well.
This episode of A Midsummer Night's Dream featured the vocal local talents Sebastian Crane as Oberon Nala Jae Wu as Puck Christopher Wilson as Demetrius Danielle Ellet as Hermia Ezra Wayne as Lysander Emma Shirjarco as Helena A Midsummer Night's Dream was produced and directed by Dallas Hawthorne with the assistance of Roz Ray Powers. Cole Burkhart was the sound designer. Allie Hilton composed the music. Adam Raymonda composed the theme song. This show would not have been possible without the support of friends, family and many, many, many of our respected peers in the audio drama. Sp. Thank you for listening.
Sa.