of her eyes: And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain; That, he awaking when the other do, May all to Athens back again repair And think no more of this night's accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the fairy queen. Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see: Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour'd of an ass. There lies your love. How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep of all these five the sense. Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fool's eyes peep. Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me, And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. Now thou and I are new in amity, And will to-morrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperity: There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity. Fairy king, attend, and mark: I do hear the morning lark. Then, my queen, in silence sad, Trip we after the night's shade: We the globe can compass soon, Swifter than the wandering moon. 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. Go, one of you, find out the forester; For now our observation is perform'd; And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds. Uncouple in the western valley; let them go: Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding: for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning