O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee?
What do you see? you see an asshead of your own, do you?
I see their Knavery: this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not run from this place, do what they can: I will wake others up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I'am not afraid.
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
I think, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days; the more the pity that some honest neighbors will not make them friends.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note;So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move meOn the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,So I can have my love for both nigh and arise.