1 Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep.
2 And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
3 Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense.
4 But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
5 If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too.
6 My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, half waking; but as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here.
7 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.
8 Come, my lord, and in our flight, Tell me how it came this night That I sleeping here was found With these mortals on the ground.
9 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.
10 So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; Which now in some slight measure it will pay, If for his tender here I make some stay.
11 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.
12 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.