How now, spirit! Whither wander you?
FAIRY
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be,
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours.
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I’ll be gone.
Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.
Hello, spirit! Where are you going? [FAIRY: Over hill, over valley, through bush, through brier, over park, over pale, through flood, through fire, I wander everywhere, faster than the moon's orbit; and I serve the Fairy Queen, to put dew on her circles on the green. The tall cowslips are her guards in their golden coats marked with spots; those are rubies, fairy gifts, in those freckles live their perfumes. I must go find some dewdrops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. Goodbye, you clumsy spirit; I'll be gone. Our Queen and all her fairies are coming soon.]
Hey, spirit! Where you headed? [FAIRY: Over hills, over valleys, through bushes, through thorns, over fields, over pale, through water, through fire, I'm everywhere, faster than the moon; I serve the Fairy Queen, putting dew on her magic circles in the grass. Those tall cowslips are her guards in their gold coats with spots; those are rubies, fairy gifts, their smell lives in those freckles. I gotta find some dew here and put a pearl in every cowslip's ear. See you, you dumb spirit; I'm out. Our Queen and all her elves are coming soon.]
over hills valleys through fire and water everywhere i serve the queen pearls in flowers gotta go the queen is coming
The King doth keep his revels here tonight;
Take heed the Queen come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy, stol’n from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling.
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild:
But she perforce withholds the lovèd boy,
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But they do square; that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.
FAIRY
Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Call’d Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he
That frights the maidens of the villagery,
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn,
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
Are not you he?
The King is having his celebration here tonight; be careful of the Queen and her fairies.
The King's throwing a party here tonight; watch out for the Queen and her fairies.
king's partying here tonight watch for the queen
Thou speak’st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal;
And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And ‘tailor’ cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and loffe
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But room, fairy. Here comes Oberon.
FAIRY
And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
You're right; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I serve Oberon and cause harm to humans—I'm well known here.
Right, I'm that happy troublemaker everyone knows runs around at night. I work for Oberon and mess with people—I've got a reputation.
yeah i'm the night wanderer i work for oberon i cause trouble everyone knows me
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
I greet you badly by moonlight, proud Titania.
Nice to see you too, proud Titania.
badly met proud titania
What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence;
I have forsworn his bed and company.
What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, go away from here; I have rejected his company.
What, jealous? Come on, fairies, let's get out of here; I'm done with him.
jealous again let's go i'm done with him
Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
Wait, reckless woman; am I not your lord?
Hold on, wait a minute; aren't I your king?
stop aren't i your king
Then I must be thy lady; but I know
When thou hast stol’n away from fairyland,
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?
Then I must be your lady; but I know that when you've stolen away from fairyland, and in the shape of Corin sat all day playing shepherd pipes and writing love poems to a shepherdess. Why are you here, come from the farthest heights of India, unless, truly, the athletic Amazon, your leather-booted mistress and your warrior love, is to marry Theseus; and you've come to give their bed joy and prosperity?
Fine, then I'm your lady, but I know when you've snuck away from the fairy kingdom and dressed up like some guy named Corin, playing pipes all day and writing love songs to some girl. Why are you here, coming from way out in India, unless it's because that muscular Amazon—your tough warrior girlfriend—is marrying Theseus, and you came here to make their wedding night lucky?
you sneak off dressed like a shepherd writing love songs to some girl you're here for that amazon girl theseus's bride
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?
How can you, for shame, Titania, look at my reputation and accuse me, when I see you talking with Hippolyta?
How can you even accuse me when I've seen you flirting with Hippolyta?
you flirt with her too how can you accuse me
These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer’s spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By pavèd fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or on the beachèd 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 drownèd 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.
These are the lies jealousy makes up: and never, since the beginning of summer, have we met on hill, in valley, forest, or meadow, by paved fountain, or by reedy brook, or on the sandy shore of the sea, to dance our circles to the whistling wind, but with your fights you've broken our games. That's why the winds, blowing to us helplessly, have in revenge sucked up fog from the sea; which, falling on the land, has made every small river so swollen that they've overflowed their banks. The ox has stretched his yoke for nothing, the ploughman has lost his labor, and the green corn has rotted before it grew strong. The sheep pen stands empty in the flooded field, and crows are fattened with the dead livestock; the game-board is filled with mud, and the pretty mazes in the wild grass, from lack of walking, are not visible. The humans want their winter. No night now has hymns or songs. That's why the moon, the ruler of tides, pale with anger, washes all the air, so that disease spreads. And through this disorder we see the seasons change: frost falls in the fresh lap of the red rose; and on old Winter's thin and icy crown a chain of sweet summer buds is set, as a mockery. The spring, the summer, the fertile autumn, angry winter, change their usual clothes; and the confused world, by their shifts, now doesn't know which is which. And all this evil comes from our quarrel, from our fighting; we are their cause.
These are just lies from jealousy: we haven't met on hills or in valleys or forests or fields, by fountains or streams or the beach, to dance in circles to the wind, not once since summer started, because you keep fighting and messing up our fun. So the winds have gotten revenge and sucked up all this fog from the sea, and it falls on the land and makes every little river overflow. The farmers' oxen can't plow, their crops are rotting before they grow, the fields are flooded and full of dead animals, and the grass mazes are all messed up. People don't even know what season it is anymore. There's no hymns or songs at night. The moon's so angry it's washing the air with this sick stuff that makes people ill. And look at the weather—frost is falling on roses, summer flowers are blooming in winter, everything's backwards. Spring and summer and fall and winter are all mixed up; the world doesn't even know which season it is anymore. And all of this—all of it—is because of us fighting. We caused this.
we haven't danced since you started fighting the winds got revenge fog everywhere rivers flooding crops rotting everything backwards spring in winter frost on roses no one knows the seasons this is our fault we caused all this
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.
Fix it yourself, then. It depends on you. Why should Titania say you're wrong while she refuses to give up the boy?
So fix it yourself. You're the one refusing to give me the boy. You want me to look bad while you refuse to budge.
fix it yourself you won't give up the boy so you look bad
Set your heart at rest;
The fairyland buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot’ress of my order,
And in the spicèd Indian air, by night,
Full often hath she gossip’d by my side;
And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands,
Marking th’ embarkèd 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.
Put your heart at rest; I won't sell this child to the fairy kingdom. His mother was a priestess of my order, and in the spiced Indian air, by night, she's often gossiped with me; and sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, watching the merchant ships on the water, when we've laughed to see the sails fill up, and grow big with the wanton wind; which she, with pretty and swimming steps, following (her womb heavy with my young attendant), would imitate, and sail across the land, to fetch me trinkets, and come back, as from a voyage, rich with goods. But she, being mortal, died because of that boy; and for her sake do I raise her boy, and for her sake I will not part with him.
Don't worry about it; I'm not giving up this kid, not even for all the fairy gold in the world. His mother was one of my priestesses, and we spent nights together in India, laughing about the ships on the ocean, watching the sails fill up with wind. She'd walk like she was sailing across the land too—and she was pregnant with this boy. She was bringing me gifts like she was coming back from a journey. But she was human, so she died when he was born. And because of her, I'm keeping him. He's his mother's son, and I promised her.
not selling him his mother was my friend we laughed on beaches watched ships her belly big with him she died for his sake for her sake he stays
How long within this wood intend you stay?
How long do you intend to stay in this forest?
How long are you staying in this forest?
how long are you staying
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.
Maybe until after Theseus' wedding day. If you'll be patient, I'll give you my attendants.
Until after Theseus gets married, I guess. If you can wait, I'll give you my attendants to hang out with.
until after theseus's wedding then maybe
Titania's speech about the ruined seasons is one of the most remarkable passages in a comedy. She describes in specific detail: flooded fields, rotted crops, diseased livestock, the seasons losing their sequence, frost falling on roses. This is not metaphor — it is agricultural catastrophe. Shakespeare's audience in the 1590s had experienced real crop failures, flooding, and plague; the description would have landed with recognition. The play positions the fairy quarrel as the cause of a real-world disaster. What appears to be a supernatural domestic argument has consequences in the material world. This is the play's first and clearest statement that the fairy world and the human world are not separate — what happens in one affects the other. The comedy requires us to hold two things simultaneously: the quarrel is funny (two eternal beings squabbling over a child), and it is also destroying the English countryside.
Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
Give me that boy and I'll go with you.
Just give me the boy and I'll leave with you.
give me the boy and i'll go
Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away.
We shall chide downright if I longer stay.
Not for all your fairy kingdom. Fairies, let's go. We'll quarrel down this path; I promise to you all.
Not for anything. Come on, fairies, let's get out of here. I'm not backing down.
never let's go i won't give in
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 dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid’s music.
Go ahead. You won't leave this forest until I've tormented you for this defiance.
Go then. You're not leaving this forest until I punish you for this.
you're not leaving until i get revenge
I remember.
I remember.
I remember.
i remember
That very time I saw, (but thou couldst not),
Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
Cupid all arm’d: a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal, thronèd by the west,
And loos’d his love-shaft smartly from his bow
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts.
But I might see young Cupid’s fiery shaft
Quench’d in the chaste beams of the watery moon;
And the imperial votress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark’d I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again
Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
That very time I saw, though you couldn't, Cupid flying between the cold moon and the earth: armed with his bow and a sure aim he took, at a pure and virtuous woman, throned in the west, and shot his love-arrow smartly from his bow as if it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I saw young Cupid's fiery arrow quenched in the pure beams of the watery moon; and the imperial priestess went on, lost in maiden thoughts, free from love. Yet I marked where Cupid's bolt fell: it fell on a little western flower, before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, and young women call it love-in-idleness. Bring me that flower, the herb I showed you once: the juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid will make man or woman madly fall in love with whatever living creature they see next. Bring me this herb, and be back here before the sea-monster can swim a mile.
I saw it happen—you didn't, but I did—Cupid flying between the moon and the earth, all armed, with a perfect aim. He aimed at this pure, holy woman sitting in the west, and shot his love-arrow right at her heart, like it could hit a hundred thousand people. But I saw his arrow get stopped by the moon's pure light; and she just kept going, lost in her own thoughts, not in love with anyone. But I saw where his arrow landed: on this little flower in the west. It used to be white, now it's purple from love's wound, and girls call it love-in-idleness. Get me that flower—the one I showed you. If you rub the juice on someone's closed eyes, they'll fall madly in love with the first person they see when they wake up. Get it for me, and get back before the sea-monster can swim a mile.
i saw cupid shoot at a pure woman missed—moon blocked it the arrow fell on a little flower white flower now purple called love-in-idleness get me that flower juice on eyelids makes anyone love first thing they see hurry back
I’ll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
I'll circle the earth in forty minutes.
I can circle the whole earth in forty minutes.
i can go around the whole earth in forty minutes
Having once this juice,
I’ll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she waking looks upon
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape)
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm from off her sight
(As I can take it with another herb)
I’ll make her render up her page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.
Once I have this juice, I'll watch Titania when she's asleep, and when she wakes, let her be the first she sees—maybe a lion, or a bear, a wolf, or a bull. Or something worse. I'll make her chase it with a soul of love; and before I take this charm off, I'll make her give me the boy.
Once I get this juice, I'm gonna put it on Titania's eyes while she's sleeping. When she wakes up, whatever she sees first—a lion, a bear, a wolf, a bull, something scary—she's gonna fall madly in love with it. And she'll be so obsessed that she'll give me the boy just to make me happy again.
juice on her eyes while she sleeps she'll wake up love the first thing she sees lion wolf bear something scary she'll give me the boy
I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
The one I’ll slay, the other slayeth me.
Thou told’st me they were stol’n into this wood,
And here am I, and wode within this wood
Because I cannot meet with Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
I don't love you, so don't follow me. Where are Lysander and fair Hermia? I'll kill one, the other is killing me. You told me they were stolen into this forest, and here I am, crazy in this forest because I can't meet Hermia. Go away, and follow me no more.
I don't love you, so stop following me. Where the hell are Lysander and Hermia? I'm gonna kill him, and she's killing me with how much I want her. You said they came into this forest, and I'm here going crazy trying to find her. Just go—stop following me.
i don't love you stop following me where's hermia i'll kill him i need her go away leave me alone
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant,
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw,
And I shall have no power to follow you.
You pull me in, you hard-hearted magnet, but yet you pull me in to be unwelcome. Do I beg for your favor? Do I speak you fair? Don't I rather accuse you, persuade you, beg you in all the ways a woman can?
You're like a magnet pulling me in, but you don't actually want me. I'm not even asking you to want me—I just want you to let me follow you. Do I beg? Do I flatter you? Or do I just come after you in every way I can?
you pull me but you don't want me i'm not even asking you to love me just let me follow
Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
Or rather do I not in plainest truth
Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you?
Do I attract you? Do I speak to you kindly? Or don't I rather insult you, threaten you, persuade you, beg you in every way?
Did I invite you? Am I nice to you? No—I tell you off, I threaten you, I beg you to go away. And you're still here.
i don't want you i threaten you i beg you to leave why won't you go
And even for that do I love you the more.
I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you.
Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
What worser place can I beg in your love,
(And yet a place of high respect with me)
Than to be usèd as you use your dog?
And it's because you threaten me that I love you more. I'm your spaniel; and, Demetrius, the more you beat me, I will fawn on you. Use me like your spaniel—spur me, strike me, ignore me, lose me; just let me follow you, even though I'm not worthy. What worse place can I ask for in your love (and yet a place of high respect with me) than to be used like you use your dog?
That's why I love you more—because you're mean to me. I'm like your dog; the more you hit me, the more I come back. Just let me follow you, use me however you want, ignore me, whatever. I don't care. What worse thing could I ask for than to be treated like your dog? And yet I'd be honored.
the more you hurt me the more i love you i'm your dog beat me ignore me i'll still follow let me serve you
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
For I am sick when I do look on thee.
Be careful—don't test too much the hatred of my spirit; I am sick when I look on you. And I'm afraid that I'll do something to you in this lonely place that your life may be in danger.
Watch it—don't push me too far. You make me sick just looking at you. I'm scared I'm gonna hurt you out here in the middle of nowhere.
don't push me you make me sick i might hurt you out here alone
And I am sick when I look not on you.
And I am sick when I don't look on you.
And I'm dying when I can't see you.
i die without you
Oberon decides to use the love-juice on Titania to win the changeling boy. He frames this as correction — she is being unreasonable, he is fixing things. But what he is actually doing is chemically overriding her will. The 'love' she will feel is a manufactured distortion. He will then wait until she is at her most humiliated to extract the concession he wants. Modern readers often find this uncomfortable — and they should. Shakespeare doesn't present it as obviously wrong (the play rewards Oberon in the end), but he doesn't present it as obviously right either. Titania's reason for keeping the boy — her loyalty to a dead friend — is given more weight than Oberon's desire to have a 'henchman.' The play is a romantic comedy that quietly contains a critique of the methods by which romantic comedy achieves its endings.
You do impeach your modesty too much
To leave the city and commit yourself
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To trust the opportunity of night
And the ill counsel of a desert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.
You're damaging your reputation too much by leaving the city and following a man alone into the forest.
You're ruining your reputation, running into the woods after me alone. People will talk.
you're ruining yourself following me people will judge
Your virtue is my privilege: for that
It is not night when I do see your face,
Therefore I think I am not in the night;
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
For you, in my respect, are all the world.
Then how can it be said I am alone
When all the world is here to look on me?
Your virtue is what gives me permission: because it's not night when I'm with you, no matter how dark it is. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth rather than fail you.
Your honor protects me. When I'm with you, it's not dark anymore, no matter what time it is. I'll follow you anywhere rather than turn away.
you protect me it's not dark when i'm with you i'll follow you everywhere
I’ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
I'll run from you and hide in the bushes, and leave you to the wilderness to find your own way back.
I'm gonna run and hide in the woods, and you can figure out how to get home on your own.
i'm running away into the bushes find your own way home
The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
Run when you will, the story shall be chang’d;
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
The dove pursues the griffin, the mild hind
Makes speed to catch the tiger. Bootless speed,
When cowardice pursues and valour flies!
Even the wildest animal doesn't have a heart as hard as yours. Run if you will; I'll follow.
No wild animal is as cold as you are. Go ahead and run; I'll catch up.
you're colder than any animal i'll follow you
I will not stay thy questions. Let me go,
Or if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
I won't wait for your questions. Let me go, or if you follow me further, I'll do something to you in this lonely place where no one will hear you cry.
I'm not talking to you anymore. Let me go, or if you follow me, I'm gonna do something that'll make you scream out here where nobody will hear.
i'm done let me go or i'll hurt you no one will hear
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex.
We cannot fight for love as men may do.
We should be woo’d, and were not made to woo.
Yes, even in the temple, in the town, in the fields, you mock me. I am as familiar to you as a servant to her mistress. But I am not ashamed to follow.
Yeah, you humiliate me everywhere—at church, in town, in the fields. I'm as familiar to you as a servant to her boss. But I'm not ashamed to keep following.
you mock me everywhere church town fields i'm your servant i'm not ashamed
Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
Goodbye, nymph. Before he leaves this forest, you'll be even with him. He'll chase you and you'll flee from him.
Goodbye, girl. Before this forest trip is over, he's gonna want you as badly as you want him. Watch what happens.
bye before he leaves he'll chase you instead of the other way
Ay, there it is.
Yes, there it is.
Yeah, here it is.
here
I pray thee give it me.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes,
And make her full of hateful fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes;
But do it when the next thing he espies
May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care, that he may prove
More fond on her than she upon her love:
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
Please give it to me. I know a bank where wild thyme grows, covered with musk roses and with honeysuckle, where sleeps my Titania often on a summer's night, lying on flowers with violets crowned. There the juice I'll drop on sleeping eyelids, and a charm I'll speak; so that, as soon as she opens her eyes, the first creature she sees—be it lion, bear, wolf, or bull, monkey, or human—will she pursue with the soul of love. And before I take off this charm, I'll make her give me the boy.
Give it to me. I know this beautiful spot where wild thyme grows, covered with sweet roses and honeysuckle, where Titania sleeps on summer nights, lying on flowers like a crown. I'll put the juice on her sleeping eyes and say a spell; so when she wakes up, the first thing she sees—a lion, a bear, a wolf, a bull, a monkey, a human—she's gonna fall madly in love with it. And before I remove the spell, she'll give me the boy.
beautiful bank wild thyme roses honeysuckle where she sleeps i'll put juice on her eyes speak the spell she'll love first thing she sees then give me the boy
Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.
Don't worry, my lord; your servant will do so.
Don't worry, I'll take care of it.
i got you my lord
The Reckoning
The forest opens with a scene that does three things simultaneously: it establishes the fairy world's rules, breaks a marriage, and sets up everything that will go wrong. Oberon and Titania's argument is the play's first great confrontation — two immortal beings with real power, genuinely wounded, unable to resolve something because neither will yield. The changeling boy is the MacGuffin (we never see him) but the argument's emotional weight comes from Titania's speech about his dead mother, which is the most tender and genuinely moving passage in the play so far. Then the mortal lovers blunder through: Demetrius cruel, Helena desperate, both performing an ugly choreography that Oberon watches with more interest than pity. He decides to meddle. Nothing goes right after that.
If this happened today…
You're in a forest preserve at night. An old married couple is having a spectacular fight — they're supernatural entities, so the actual weather has been terrible for months because of their quarrel. One wants custody of a particular child; the other refuses to give him up for reasons that go deeper than he knows. They separate in fury. Then two other people walk through: the guy is being aggressively dismissive to the girl chasing him, and she is begging for any scrap of attention. A powerful observer decides to 'fix' the situation with a drug. Spoiler: he picks the wrong target.