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.
How now, spirit! Where are you wandering? Over hill, over dale, Through bush, through brier, Over park, over fence, Through flood, through fire, I wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon orbits; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To sprinkle dew on her flower-circles in the green. The tall cowslips are her bodyguards, In their gold coats you see spots; Those are rubies, fairy gifts, In those freckles live their perfumes. I must go seek dew-drops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. Farewell, you heavy lump of a spirit; I'll be gone. Our Queen and all her elves come here shortly.
Hey spirit! Where are you heading? Over hills and valleys, Through bushes and thorns, Over fields and fences, Through water and fire, I go everywhere, Faster than the moon moves; I serve the Fairy Queen, Sprinkling dew on her flower-rings in the meadows. The tall cowslips are like her guards, With golden coats and spotted marks; Those spots are like rubies, fairy treasures, With sweet smells inside those freckles. I have to find dew-drops, And put a pearl in each cowslip's ear. Goodbye, you clumsy spirit—I'm leaving. The Queen and all her fairies are coming here soon.
where u going spirit i go everywhere hills valleys bushes thorns water fire faster than the moon i serve the fairy queen sprinkling dew on flowers putting pearls in cowslips the queen's coming soon bye
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 holds his party here tonight; Be careful that the Queen doesn't come near him, because Oberon is very angry, because she has, as her attendant, a lovely boy stolen from an Indian king. She's never had such a sweet adopted child. Jealous Oberon wants the child as a knight of his court, to roam the wild forests. But she refuses to give up the loved boy, crowns him with flowers, and makes him her complete joy. Now they never meet in grove or green, by clear fountain, or under starry light, without fighting; all their elves hide in fear in acorn cups. Are you pretending not to recognize me, or are you that clever and mischievous spirit called Robin Goodfellow? Aren't you the one who frightens village maidens, steals cream from milk, and sometimes makes the housewife's spinning wheel work in vain, making her exhausted churning endless, and sometimes makes the beer refuse to ferment, misleads night travelers and laughs at their trouble? Those who call you Hobgoblin and sweet Puck know you do their work, and they'll have good luck. Aren't you him?
The King is having a party here tonight, so watch out—the Queen shouldn't see him. Oberon is really furious because she has this beautiful boy as her attendant, stolen from an Indian king. She's never had such a perfect foster child. Jealous Oberon wants the kid to be part of his court and explore the wild forests. But she absolutely refuses to give the boy up, dresses him with flowers, and treats him like her most precious thing. Now they can't meet anywhere—in the forests, by fountains, under the stars—without fighting. All their fairies hide in terror inside acorn cups because of the fighting. Wait, maybe I'm wrong about what you look like, or maybe you're that tricky little spirit called Robin Goodfellow? Aren't you the guy who scares the village girls, ruins the milk when it's being skimmed, makes the housewife's churn not work no matter how hard she tries, sometimes prevents beer from rising, tricks people walking at night and laughs about it? People call you Hobgoblin and sweet Puck, and you do their work in exchange for good luck. Is that you?
the king's having a party tonight the queen better not see him oberon's furious abt a boy he took him from an indian king he's the most beautiful thing oberon wants him for his court but titania won't give him up they fight everywhere now their fairies are hiding in acorn cups u must be that trickster robin goodfellow u scare girls u ruin milk u trick people
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 speak the truth. I am that cheerful wanderer of the night. I make jokes for Oberon and he smiles, when I trick a fat horse fed on beans, making it neigh like a baby mare. And sometimes I hide in someone's punch bowl looking exactly like a roasted crab apple, and when she drinks, I bob against her lips, and spill ale on her withered neck. Even the wisest old woman telling the saddest story sometimes mistakes me for a three-legged stool; then I slip away from under her, and she falls down. She cries out like a tailor and coughs, and then everyone in the group holds their sides laughing, grow red with laughter, sneeze and swear that a funnier hour was never spent. But stand back, fairy. Here comes Oberon. And here comes my mistress. I wish he were gone!
That's right, I'm that merry troublemaker of the night. I joke around with Oberon to make him smile. I trick a fat horse fed on beans into neighing like a female foal. Sometimes I sneak into someone's bowl of wine looking exactly like a roasted crab apple, and when she takes a drink, I bump against her lips and dump the ale down her wrinkled neck. Even the smartest old lady telling the most miserable story will sometimes mistake me for a little stool; then I slide out from under her and she tumbles. She screams and starts coughing and everyone bursts out laughing, gets red-faced, sneezes and swears that was the funniest moment ever. But move aside, fairy. Here comes Oberon. And here comes my Queen. I really hope he leaves!
yeah that's me the night trickster i make oberon laugh i trick horses into neighing i hide in drinks as a crab apple i bump ppl's lips & spill on them i hide under old ladies like a stool they fall & everyone laughs oberon's coming the queen's coming i hope they don't fight
hers.
Here she is.
There she is now.
here she comes
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
Badly met by moonlight, proud Titania.
I'm upset to see you here by moonlight, you proud Titania.
terrible meeting u here titania
What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence;
I have forsworn his bed and company.
What, you jealous Oberon! Fairies, go away! I have refused to share his bed and company.
What, jealous Oberon! Everyone leave! I'm not sleeping with him or spending time with him anymore.
jealous oberon? we're done. i'm not sharing a bed w u
Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
Wait, reckless woman; am I not your lord?
Hold on, you wild woman—aren't I supposed to be in charge?
wait hold on aren't i ur lord
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 suppose I must be your lady, but I know when you've stolen away from fairyland and dressed as a shepherd named Corin, sitting around all day playing reed pipes and singing love songs to a nymph named Phillida. Why are you here, coming from the furthest mountains of India, except because that bouncing Amazon, your buskinned lover and your warrior queen, is going to marry Theseus? And you come to bless their bed and give them prosperity?
Then I guess that makes me your lady, but I know your secret. I know when you sneak away from fairyland and pretend to be a shepherd called Corin, sitting there all day playing pipes and singing love poems to some girl named Phillida. Why did you come all the way from the far reaches of India except to see that Amazon woman—your buskinned mistress, your warrior queen—because she's marrying Theseus? And now you're here to bless their marriage?
i know u sneak away dressed as a shepherd u sit around playing pipes singing love songs to phillida why r u here from india except 4 that amazon woman the warrior queen marrying theseus u wanna bless their bed
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 do this, Titania—shame on you—suggesting I'm interested in Hippolyta, when you know that I know your love for Theseus? Didn't you lead him through the glimmering night away from Perigenia, the woman he ravished? And make him break his faith with fair Aegles, with Ariadne and Antiopa?
How could you even suggest that, Titania? You should be ashamed. I know you loved Theseus. Didn't you sneak him away at night from Perigenia, the girl he'd already seduced? And made him abandon fair Aegles, Ariadne, and Antiopa—all the other women he'd promised to love?
u know u loved theseus u led him away from perigenia u made him cheat on aegles ariadne antiopa don't judge me 4 hippolyta
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 lies told by jealousy. And ever since midsummer began, we haven't met anywhere—not on hill, in valley, forest, or meadow, by a carved fountain, or by a reedy stream, or on the beach by the sea—to dance our rings to the whistling wind, without your fights disrupting our joy. Because of this, the winds, blowing to us for nothing, have taken revenge by drawing up poisonous fog from the sea. This fog, falling on land, has made every small river swell with pride until they've broken over their banks. The ox has stretched his yoke in vain, the ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn has rotted before it's fully grown. The sheepfold stands empty in the flooded field, and crows grow fat eating dead sheep. The grass game board is filled with mud, and the fancy mazes in the wild field can't be seen anymore because no one walks them. Humans miss their winter. No night is blessed with song or carol. Because of this, the moon, which governs floods, is pale in her anger and washes all the air, causing disease to spread. Because of this disorder we see the seasons change: frost falls on the fresh lap of the red rose, and on Winter's thin, icy head, fragrant garlands of sweet summer flowers are placed as if in mockery. Spring, summer, fertile autumn, and angry winter change their normal clothes, and the confused world no longer knows which season is which. All these evils come from our fight, from our disagreement. We are their parents and cause.
That's just jealous talk. We haven't been able to meet anywhere since midsummer started—not in the forests, valleys, meadows, by fountains, by streams, or on the beaches—to dance in our circles without your arguing messing everything up. Because of it, the winds have gotten revenge by pulling poisonous fogs up from the sea. These fogs flood the land and make every little river overflow its banks. Farmers' oxen can't plow, and the crops rot before they even ripen. Sheep pens are empty in the flooded fields, and crows get fat eating dead livestock. The lawn games are buried in mud, the intricate mazes can't even be seen anymore. Humans are missing their normal winters. Nights don't have any songs or carols. The moon is pale and angry, washing the whole air with moisture that causes sickness everywhere. Look at how the seasons got mixed up: frost falls on roses in bloom, and summer flowers are thrown onto Winter like a joke. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter have all switched their usual clothes. The whole world is confused and doesn't know what season it is anymore. All of this mess comes from our fighting and disagreement. We caused this. We're the reason it's happening.
that's jealous talk we can't meet anywhere because ur fighting messes everything poison fog comes from the sea rivers flood farms rot sheep die crows eat them lawns are mud moon's pale & angry frost on roses in summer everything's out of order it's all because of us
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.
Then fix it yourself. It's up to you. Why should Titania refuse Oberon? I only ask for a little adopted boy to be my servant.
Well, fix it then. That's your choice. Why won't you just do what I ask? All I want is this one little boy to work for me.
just fix it urself why won't u give me the boy
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.
You can stop hoping. Fairyland will not buy this child from me. His mother was one of my servants, and many nights in the spiced Indian air she gossipped by my side. She sat with me on Neptune's golden sands, watching the merchant ships on the water. We laughed to see the sails fill out and grow big-bellied with the wind. She would imitate the sails with her pretty, graceful gait, following along—her belly heavy with my young page—and pretend to sail across the land to fetch me gifts, returning rich with treasures. But she died, being mortal. Because of her, I'm raising her boy, and because of her, I will not give him up.
Don't even think about it. There's no amount of money that would make me sell you this child. His mother was one of my attendants, and I spent countless nights with her in India, talking about everything. We'd sit on the beach watching the ships come in, and we'd laugh when the sails would fill up and belly out in the wind. She had such a graceful walk—she'd pretend to be a ship sailing across the land to get me gifts, with my future page growing in her belly. She'd come back acting like she was a merchant ship full of treasures. She died, though, being human. I'm raising her son because of her, and I will never, ever give him to you.
no money buys this kid his mom was my servant we sat on beaches in india laughing at ships filling w wind she pretended to sail on land she was pregnant w him then she died being human i promised her i'd raise him i'm never giving him away
How long within this wood intend you stay?
How long do you plan to stay in this wood?
How much longer are you staying in this forest?
how long u staying here
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.
Perhaps until after Theseus' wedding. If you'll patiently join our circle dance and see our moonlight celebrations, come with us. If not, avoid me and I'll stay away from your places.
Maybe I'll stay until after Theseus gets married. If you want to join us and participate in our circle dances and see our midnight parties, you can come along. If not, just stay away from us and I'll stay away from you.
maybe till after theseus' wedding join our circle dances or stay away
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.
If you hand over that boy to me, then I will accompany you.
Give me the boy and I'll come with you.
give me the boy i'll come w u
Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away.
We shall chide downright if I longer stay.
Not for your entire fairy kingdom. Fairies, let's go. We'll have a real argument if I stay any longer.
Not a chance. Your whole kingdom isn't worth it. Everyone, let's leave. We're going to have a huge fight if I don't go now.
not 4 ur whole kingdom let's go before we fight
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.
All right, go then. You won't leave this grove until I make you suffer for this offense. My gentle Puck, come here. Do you remember when I once sat on a cliff and heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back singing so sweetly and beautifully that the rough sea became peaceful at her song, and certain stars shot wildly out of their orbits to hear the sea-maid's music?
Go ahead, leave. But you're not leaving this forest until I make you pay for this. Puck, come here. Remember when I was sitting on a cliff and I heard this mermaid riding on a dolphin singing so beautifully that the wild ocean actually calmed down, and stars were shooting out of the sky to listen to her?
go but u won't leave this forest i'm gonna make u suffer puck come here remember that mermaid on the dolphin she sang so beautifully the ocean calmed down stars shot outta the sky
I remember.
I remember.
I do remember that.
yeah 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.
At that very moment I saw (though you could not) Cupid flying between the cold moon and the earth, fully armed. He aimed carefully at a beautiful vestal virgin seated to the west, and fired his love-arrow sharply from his bow as if it would pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I watched young Cupid's flaming arrow go out in the pure light of the watery moon, and the imperial vestal virgin went on her way, in quiet thought, without feeling love. Yet I marked where Cupid's arrow landed: it fell on a little western flower that was once white as milk, now purple from love's wound. Young women call it love-in-idleness. Bring me that flower, the magic herb I showed you once. If you put the juice of it on the sleeping eyelids of a man or woman, they'll madly love the next living creature they see. Bring me this herb, and be back before a great sea creature can swim a mile.
At that exact moment I saw Cupid flying between the moon and earth, completely armed. He took aim at this beautiful virgin priestess sitting in the west and let his love-arrow fly from his bow as if it would hit a hundred thousand hearts at once. But I watched that fiery arrow get extinguished by the pure light of the moon, and the priestess just kept going, lost in thought, completely unaffected by love. But I noticed where the arrow landed: it hit a small western flower that used to be white as milk but now it's purple from love's wound. Girls call it love-in-idleness. Find me that flower—that magic herb I showed you before. If you put the juice on someone's sleeping eyes—man or woman—they'll fall madly in love with the first living thing they see. Go get it and come back before a whale can swim a mile away.
i saw cupid flying between moon & earth he aimed at a virgin priestess shot his love arrow from the sky but the moon put it out she walked away untouched but the arrow hit a flower white flower turned purple it's called love-in-idleness bring me that flower the juice makes ppl fall in love w the first thing they see be back b4 a whale swims a mile
I’ll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
I'll put a belt around the earth in forty minutes.
I'll circle the whole earth in forty minutes.
i'll go around the earth in 40 min
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 drop the liquid in her eyes. The next thing she sees when she wakes up—whether it's a lion, bear, wolf, bull, monkey, or ape—she'll pursue it with all the passion of love. Before I remove this magic from her eyes (and I can remove it with another herb), I'll make her give me her page. But who comes here? I'm invisible, and I'll listen to their conversation.
Once I get that juice, I'll sneak up on Titania while she's sleeping and drip it in her eyes. Whatever she sees first when she wakes up—a lion, bear, wolf, bull, monkey, whatever—she'll chase it with complete obsessive love. Before I take the magic off her eyes (I can use another herb to do that), I'll get her to hand over that boy. But wait, who's coming? I'm invisible so they won't see me—I'll just listen to what they say.
i'll put juice in titania's eyes whoever she sees first she'll fall in love w beast monkey lion whatever she'll chase it in love ntil i take the spell off and she gives me the boy who's coming i'm invisible gonna listen
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 stop following me. Where are Lysander and fair Hermia? I'll kill one and the other is killing me with love. You told me they ran into this wood, and here I am, going crazy in this wood because I can't find Hermia. So go away, and don't follow me anymore.
I don't love you, so quit following me. Where are Lysander and Hermia? One I'll kill and the other one is breaking my heart. You said they came into this forest, and that's why I'm here, losing my mind because I can't find Hermia. Just leave me alone and stop following me.
i don't love u stop following me where's lysander & hermia i wanna kill him she's killing me w love u said they came here i'm losing it can't find her 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 toward you, you hard-hearted magnet, but you don't attract iron because my heart is as true and loyal as steel. Stop using your power to pull me, and I won't have the power to follow you.
You're like a magnet pulling me in, you heartless guy, but you don't attract iron the way a magnet should because my heart is loyal like steel. If you just stop pulling me, I won't be able to follow you anymore.
u pull me like a magnet but my heart's steel i can't help following u if u stop pulling i'll stop following
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?
Am I seducing you? Am I speaking to you kindly? Or don't I tell you plainly and truthfully that I don't love you and can't love you?
Am I tricking you into liking me? Do I speak to you nicely? No—I'm telling you straight up and honestly that I don't love you and never will.
i'm not seducing u i don't love u i can't love u plain & simple
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 for exactly that reason I love you even more. I'm your dog, Demetrius. The more you beat me, I'll just wag my tail for you. Use me like your dog, kick me, hit me, ignore me, get rid of me—just let me follow you. What worse thing could I ask for in your love (though I'd consider it an honor) than to be treated like your dog?
That's exactly why I love you more. I'm like your spaniel, Demetrius. The more you hurt me, the more I'll come crawling back. Just treat me like your dog. Kick me, hit me, ignore me, throw me away—I don't care, just let me follow you. What worse thing could I possibly want from you (and I'd still think it was amazing) than to be your dog?
that's y i love u more i'm ur spaniel beat me i'll still come back treat me like ur dog kick me hit me ignore me it's the best thing ever just let me follow u
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
For I am sick when I do look on thee.
Don't push too far the hatred I feel toward you. I get sick when I look at you.
Don't make me hate you even more. I literally feel sick when I have to look at you.
don't push it i feel sick when i see u
And I am sick when I look not on you.
And I feel sick when I'm not looking at you.
And I feel sick when I can't see you.
i feel sick when u're gone
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 being too careless with your reputation. Leaving the city and putting yourself in the hands of someone who doesn't love you, trusting the darkness of night and the isolation of the forest, all with your precious virginity at stake—you're risking too much.
You're throwing your reputation away. Leaving town to be alone with someone who doesn't even love you, trusting the night and the empty forest with your innocence on the line—you're taking huge risks.
ur risking everything left the city w someone who doesn't love u rushing into the dark forest risking ur virginity that's reckless
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 goodness protects me. Because your presence makes it daylight, I don't believe I'm in darkness. This forest isn't lonely because you're in my eyes—you're my whole world. How can I be alone when the entire world is here watching me?
Your virtue protects me. Because seeing you is like daylight, I'm not in darkness. This forest isn't empty because you're everything I see—you're my entire world. How can I be alone when you're right here, meaning the whole world is here with me?
ur goodness protects me u're like daylight 2 me i'm not alone u're my whole world everyone's here w u
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 mercy of wild animals.
I'm going to run away and hide in the weeds, and leave you alone with the wild animals.
i'm running away gonna hide u can deal w the wild animals
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!
Wild animals don't have a heart as cruel as yours. Run if you want—the story will turn around. Apollo runs and Daphne chases him. The dove hunts the griffin, and the gentle deer rushes to catch the tiger. Running is pointless when the coward runs and the brave one flees!
No wild animal is as mean-hearted as you are. Go ahead and run—but the story's going to flip. Apollo runs and Daphne chases. Doves hunt griffins, and gentle deer chase tigers. Running away is useless when cowards chase and brave warriors flee!
wild animals r nicer than u u run but the story flips apollo runs daphne chases cowards chase brave ppl flee
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 listen to your questions. Let me go, or if you follow me, believe me—I will hurt you in this forest.
I'm not staying to answer your questions. Let me go, and if you follow me, I'm warning you—I will hurt you in this forest.
i won't answer ur questions let me go or i'll hurt u in this forest
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.
You hurt me in the temple, in town, everywhere. That's awful, Demetrius. The way you treat me makes women look bad. We can't fight for love the way men do. We should be courted; we weren't made to chase.
You hurt me everywhere—in the temple, in town, everywhere. It's horrible, Demetrius. The way you're treating me makes all women look bad. We can't fight for love like men do. We're supposed to be pursued, not do the chasing.
u hurt me everywhere it's shameful demetrius u're making women look bad we can't fight 4 love like guys we're supposed 2 be chased
I’ll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.
I'll follow you and turn my life into a paradise, even if it becomes hell, and I'll die in the hands of the one I love so much.
I'm going to follow you no matter what. Even if it destroys me and ruins my life, I don't care. I'd rather suffer with you than be happy without you.
i'll follow you even if it kills me worth it for you
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 grove, you'll run from him, and he'll be the one looking for your love.
Goodbye, nymph. Before he leaves this forest, you'll be running from him and he'll be chasing you, wanting your love.
goodbye nymph he's gonna chase u soon he'll want ur love
Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.
Do you have the flower? Welcome, wanderer.
You got it? Good to see you again.
got the flower? welcome back
Ay, there it is.
Yes, there it is.
Yeah, that's the one.
yep that's it
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, where cowslips and nodding violets bloom, all covered with thick honeysuckle, with sweet musk-roses and sweetbrier. Titania sometimes sleeps on this bank at night, tucked into flowers with dancing and celebration. The snake sheds her jeweled skin there, wide enough to wrap a fairy in. With the juice of this flower I'll mark her eyes, and fill her with terrible fantasies. Take some of it and search through this forest. A sweet Athenian girl is in love with a man who hates her. Touch his eyes with it, but time it so the next thing he sees is the girl. You'll recognize him by his Athenian clothes. Do it carefully so he falls harder in love with her than she does with him. And make sure you meet me before the first rooster crows.
Give it to me, please. I know a spot where wild thyme grows, with cowslips and droopy violets, all covered with thick honeysuckle, sweet musk-roses, and sweetbrier. Titania sleeps there sometimes at night, surrounded by flowers and dancing and fun. The snake sheds her beautiful skin there—it's big enough to wrap a fairy up in. I'll use the juice from this flower to mark her eyes and fill her mind with terrible fantasies. You take some and go search the forest. There's a sweet girl from Athens in love with a guy who can't stand her. Put the juice on his eyes, but time it right so the first thing he sees is her. Look for Athenian clothes—that's how you'll know him. Be careful with it so he ends up loving her way more than she loves him. Come find me before the rooster crows.
give it me i know a spot w wild thyme cowslips violets honeysuckle sweet roses everywhere titania sleeps there i'll mark her eyes w juice she'll have terrible fantasies u find an athenian guy in love w a girl mark his eyes so he sees her first he'll love her way more meet me b4 rooster crows
Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.
Don't worry, my lord. Your servant will do it.
Don't worry, boss. I'll take care of it.
don't worry i got this
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.