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ARIEGATED, light, and splendid as though woven in the woof of Iris, the wondrous texture of this enchanting Dream is yet of stamina to last till doomsday. "Such tricks hath strong imagination!" Like gravitation in the substantial world, its influence pervades the whole domain of moral nature, and compels materials apparently the most discordant to revolve in harmony round one bright vivifying centre. Never was this divine impulsive property of intellect more finely exemplified than in the Elysian scene that here presents itself. The stately heroes and heroines of Grecian story move in soft unison with the beautiful creations of the Gothic mythology-quaint, rich, and fantastic as the ornaments of our matchless Gothic fanes; while all are bound up and blended with a plenteous exhibition of the joys and the sorrows, the constancy and the faithfulness, the sense and the absurdity, that in every age and every clime have characterised our inconsistent, yet exalted human nature.

Theseus and his Amazonian love, although invested, for the most part, with an air of classic coldness, at times give indications of being instinct with Shaksperian fire. There is a fine touch of feminine feeling in Hippolyta's expressed dislike "to see wretchedness o'ercharged, and duty in his service perishing." The answer of Theseus breathes the very spirit of a generous philosophy. Their conversation, too, while preparing for the chace, is animated with a glowing sense of animal enjoyment that rises into strenuous poetry. Altogether, these warlike lovers present a very gratifying specimen of the heroic character in repose.

The language of the amorous "human mortals," while doomed to illustrate the pathetic adage that "the course of true love never did run smooth," is fraught with sweetness gathered from the purest flowers of Parnassus. The pains and pleasures, the exalting and debasing influences of the universal passion, are delineated with surpassing truth and beauty. Under its resistless spell, the charming Helena betrays her friend, for the sake of a short-lived interview with her revolted and contemptuous lover. Her subsequent unshaken patience, however, and exquisite expostulation with Hermia, amply atone for the solitary error springing from that intoxication of the heart and brain which deprives its victims of discretion, and too often of their self-respect, at the precise moment when they have most occasion for support and admonition.

While basking in the moonlight fairy scenes, the luxurious fancy seems to inhale the very odours of "the spiced Indian air;" or, sweeter still, to drink the balmy influence of that "luscious woodbine" which forms Titania's most appropriate canopy.-Puck, the "shrewd and knavish sprite," who finds a sport in lovers' agonising janglings, is beautifully discriminated from Ariel, who pities mortal miseries, and instigates his master to relieve them. Still the "merry wanderer of the night" is delightful and exhilarating company: his sportive malice, controlled by the beneficent Oberon, is productive of infinite diversion; we easily forgive his 'elvish ridicule of pangs and raptures he is alike incapable of feeling, and for the moment heartily subscribe to his satiric dictum,-" Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

The "hempen homespuns" who are so marvellously intermixed with the superior intelligences of the drama, are all admirable workers in their tiny spheres,-from Peter Quince, the business-like manager, who really seems to have half an idea in his head, and contents himself with the humble role of Thisbe's father-up (or down) to ostentatious "Bully Bottom," the twinkling cynosure of all his meek competitors. The union of broad humour with poetic fancy was never perhaps so admirably effected as in the scenes in which this "shallowest thickskin of that barren sort" receives, as a mere thing of course, the enthusiastic courtship of the Queen of Fairyland." A very good piece of work, and a merry."

There were two quarto editions of the "MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM" (both published in 1600), previous to its appearance in the folio collection.

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Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword,
And won thy love doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.

Enter EGEUS, HERMIA, LYSANDER, and DEME

TRIUS.

Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! Thes. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?

Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint
Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
Stand forth, Demetrius:-my noble lord,
This man hath my consent to marry her.
Stand forth, Lysander: and, my gracious duke,
This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child.
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her
rhymes,

And interchanged love-tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
And stolen the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; messengers
Of strong prevailment in unhardened youth:
With cunning hast thou filched my daughter's
heart;

Turned her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness :—and, my gracious duke,
Be it so she will not here before your grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,

I beg the ancient privilege of Athens;

As she is mine, I may dispose of her:
Which shall be either to this gentleman,
Or to her death; according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.

Thes. What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair
maid:

To you your father should be as a god;
One that composed your beauties; yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax,
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
Her. So is Lysander.

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The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

Thes. Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,
To live a barren sister all your life,

Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage:
But earthly happier is the rose distilled,
Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.

Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
Thes. Take time to pause; and by the next new

moon

(The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
For everlasting bond of fellowship),
Upon that day either prepare to die,
For disobedience to your father's will;
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
Or on Diana's altar to protest,

For aye, austerity and single life.

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

Ege. Scornful Lysander! true he hath my love; And what is mine my love shall render him; And she is mine; and all my right of her I do estate unto Demetrius.

Lys. I am, my lord, as well derived as he; As well possessed; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly ranked, If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

And, which is more than all these boasts can be,

I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
Why should not I, then, prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly does, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

Thes. I must confess that I have heard so much, And with Demetrius thought to have spoke

thereof;

But, being over-full of self-affairs,

My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come;
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,
I have some private schooling for you both.

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