The Shakespeare Story-Book. Уильям Шекспир

to a great deal of fresh mischief.

      Soon afterwards Demetrius came running along, followed by Helena. In the darkness of the night Demetrius did not notice the very people he was in search of – Lysander and Hermia. Demetrius was very angry that Helena would persist in following him, and, bidding her roughly stay where she was, he hurried off alone. Helena, indeed, was too weary to pursue him further. She was just bewailing his unkind treatment, when she was startled to see Lysander lying on the ground. She did not know whether he were dead or asleep, and hastily roused him.

      Now, what happened? The fairy charm began to take effect. Lysander had gone to sleep in love with Hermia, but, opening his eyes, his first glance fell on Helena, and, in accordance with the fairy charm, his affections were immediately transferred to Helena. He began speaking at once to Helena, and told her that he no longer cared for Hermia.

      Helena could not understand what all this meant. She thought Lysander was mocking her, and left him indignantly. But Lysander followed, for he was now determined to have no one but Helena.

      Poor Hermia awoke in terror from a horrible dream. She thought a serpent was crawling over her, eating her heart, and that Lysander sat by smiling. She shrieked to Lysander to come and help her. But there was no answer; Lysander had gone. Again she called:

      “Lysander, lord! What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word! Alack, where are you? Speak, if you can hear! Speak! I almost swoon with dread.”

      But when again no answer came to her piteous appeal, Hermia knew in truth that Lysander was gone, and she set off at once to try to find him.

      Puck in Mischief

      Queen Titania, meanwhile, was quietly sleeping, and she did not even waken when Quince and Bottom, with their ambitious little troupe of actors, came and began to rehearse their play close by. Bottom, as usual, took the lead, and made himself very officious in directing all the rest.

      But if Titania did not see them, someone else did.

      Puck, the little imp, or Robin Goodfellow, as he was also called, was always alert for any mischief. Sometimes he played pranks to frighten the village maidens; sometimes he frolicked in the churn, and prevented the butter coming, so that the busy housewife toiled in vain; at other times, as Hobgoblin or Will-o’-the-Wisp, he led astray unwary travellers by night; sometimes he took the guise of a roasted apple in a bowl of hot spiced ale, and bobbed against the lips of some old gossip as she was drinking; or perhaps just when some sedate elderly spinster was sitting down to tell a sad story, Puck would skip away with her three-legged stool, and down she would go on the ground – bang! – while all the other old cronies shook with laughter.

      Puck was much diverted with the strange crew of petty artisans from Athens, who had come into the wood to rehearse their play, and he presently played one of his pranks on the conceited Bottom. The latter, having spoken some of his lines, stood aside for a few minutes, while the others went on with their parts, and, unseen by anyone, Puck seized this opportunity to pop an ass’s head on Bottom.

      Quite unconscious of the strange change that had taken place in his appearance, Bottom calmly advanced when his turn came again, but at the sight of the ass’s head all his companions shrieked and fled in terror, calling out that they were bewitched. Bottom could not imagine why they behaved in this queer fashion, and thought it was some trick to frighten him.

      “I will not stir from this place, do what they can,” he said stolidly. “I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, so that they shall hear I am not afraid.”

      So he began to pace up and down, singing in a very harsh, discordant manner, more like an ass’s bray than a man’s voice:

      “The ousel-cock so black of hue,

      With orange-tawny bill,

      The throstle with his note so true,

      The wren with little quill – ”

      “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” cried Titania, starting up from slumber.

      The charm was beginning to work, and she gazed with rapture on the curious monster.

      Bottom sang on:

      “The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

      The plain-song cuckoo gray,

      Whose note full many a man doth mark,

      And dares not answer nay.”

      “I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again,” entreated Titania. “My ear is charmed as much with your music as my eye is enthralled with your appearance. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.”

      “Not so, neither,” said Bottom bluntly; “but if I had wit to get out of this wood I have enough to serve my own turn.”

      “Do not desire to go out of this wood,” pleaded Titania. “Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wish it or not. I am a spirit of no common kind, and I love thee; therefore go with me. I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee, and they shall fetch thee jewels, and sing while thou liest sleeping on a bank of flowers. Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!”

      Four little elves came flying at the summons, and the infatuated Queen of the Fairies gave this new object of her affections into their special charge. They led him away to the bower of the Queen, and there they decked him with flowers, while Titania lavished caresses on the clownish monster.

      Bottom was not in the least impressed with the dainty loveliness of the Queen of the Fairies. He accepted all her attentions with stolid indifference, and ordered the little elves about with loutish stupidity. But the magic charm was so strong that Titania was quite bewitched with him.

      “Say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat,” she said coaxingly.

      “Truly, a peck of provender,” was the gruff reply. “I could munch you your good dry oats. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir. I feel I am getting sleepy.”

      “Sleep thou, and I will stay here beside thee,” said the Queen. “Fairies, begone! Oh, how I love thee! how I doat on thee!”

      Hermia had gone in search of Lysander, but instead of finding him she came across Demetrius. The latter immediately began, as usual, to declare his affection for her, and Hermia, as before, repulsed him angrily. Lysander was the only person in the world for whom she would ever care, though she could not imagine why he had deserted her so cruelly while she lay asleep.

      “This is the Athenian whose eyes I told you to anoint,” said King Oberon to Puck, as they watched from the thicket all that was happening.

      “This is the woman, but this is not the man,” said Puck.

      “What have you done?” exclaimed the King. “You have made a great mistake. You have placed the love-juice on some true-love’s eyes, and now, because of your error, some true love has turned false, instead of some false love turning true! Go swifter than the wind through the wood, and look you find Helena of Athens. She is pale and ill with sighing for love. See that you bring her here by some device. I will charm the eyes of Demetrius before she appears.”

      Puck flew off, eager to repair the mischief he had done, and King Oberon squeezed some of the magic juice on the eyes of Demetrius.

      A few minutes later Helena arrived, but Lysander was with her. Now there were fresh troubles and perplexities. Demetrius woke up, and, as the first object on which his eyes fell was Helena, he immediately fell in love with her again, and forgot Hermia.

      But Helena could not understand what all this meant. She thought both men were mocking and insulting her. She knew that only the day before Lysander had wanted to marry Hermia, and that Demetrius also wanted to marry Hermia, although he had originally paid court to herself. Why, then, did they both now pretend that it was herself that they wanted? She did not know it was all the fault of that mischievous little flower.

      Hermia was as much distressed as Helena. It was perplexing enough when Demetrius suddenly turned round and would have nothing more to say to her; but what cut Hermia to the heart was that her own faithful Lysander should not only forsake her for Helena, but shower