All language subtitles for A Midsummer Nights Dream 1996 eng

- Now, fair Hippolyta,

our nuptial hour draws on apace.

Four happy days bring
in another moon.

But O, methinks, how
slow this old moon wanes!

(woman chuckles)

She lingers my desires,

like to a stepdame or a dowager,

long withering out a
young man's revenue.

- Four days will quickly
steep themselves in night,

four nights will quickly
dream away the time.

And then the moon, like
to a silver bow

new-bent in heaven,

shall behold the night of
our solemnities.

- Go Philostrate stir up the
Athenian youth to merriments.

Hippolyta I wooed thee
with my sword

and won thy love doing
thee injuries.

But I will wed the in
another key.

With pomp, with triumph
and with reveling.

- Happy be Theseus, our
renowned duke.

- Thanks, good Egeus.

What's the news with thee?

- 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.

With cunning hast thou
filched my daughter's heart.

Turned her obedience,
which is due to me,

to stubborn harshness.

And, my gracious duke,

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.

- What say you, Hermia?

Be advised, fair maid.

To you, your father
should be as a god.

Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.

- So is Lysander.

- In himself, he is.

But in this kind, wanting
your father's voice,

the other must be held
the worthier.

- I would my father
looked but with my eyes

- Rather your eyes must
with his judgements look.

Hermia, take time to pause.

And by the next new moon,

the ceiling day betwixt
my love and me,

upon that day either
prepare to die

for disobedience to
your father's will

or else to wed
Demetrius as he would.

- Relent, sweet Hermia,
and, Lysander, yield

thy crazed title to my
certain right.

- You have her father's love,
Demetrius.

Let me have Hermia's.

Do you marry him?

- 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.

- I am, my lord, as well
derived as he,

as well possessed.

My love is more than his.

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 dotes, dotes
in idolatry,

upon this spotted and
inconstant man.

- I must confess I have
heard so much.

But Demetrius, come.

And come, Egeus.

You shall go with me.

For you, fair Hermia,
look you arm yourself

to fit your fancies to
your father's will.

Come, my Hippolyta.

(slap cracks)

What cheer my love?

Demetrius and Egeus go along.

I must implore you in some
business against our nuptial

and confer with you

of something nearly that
concerns yourselves.

(thoughtful music)

- Aye me!

For aught that I
could ever read,

the course of true love
never did run smooth.

Therefore hear me, Hermia.

I have a widow aunt, a dowager

and she respects me as
her only son.

From Athens is her house
remote seven leagues.

There, gentle Hermia,
may I marry thee.

And to that place, the sharp
Athenian law cannot pursue us.

If thou lovest me then,

steal forth thy father's
house tomorrow night

and in the wood a league
without the town,

there will I stay for thee.

- [Hermia] My good
Lysander, I swear to thee

by Cupid's strongest bow,

in that same place thou
hast appointed me tomorrow

truly will I meet with thee.

- [Lysander] Can you promise,
love?

- God speed, fair Helena.

And whither away?

- Call you me fair?

That fair again unsay.

Demetrius loves your fair.

O happy fair!

O, teach me how you look,

and with what art you
sway the motion

of Demetrius' heart.

- I frown upon him yet he
loves me still.

- Oh but your frowns would
teach my smile such skill.

- The more I hate the
more he follows me.

- The more I love the
more he hateth me.

- Take comfort.

He no more shall see my face.

Lysander and myself will
fly this place.

- Tomorrow night, when
Phoebe doth behold

her silver visage in
the watery glass,

through Athens gates
have we devised to steal.

- And in the wood where
often you and I

upon faint primrose beds
will won't delie

emptying our bosoms of
their counsel sweet.

There my Lysander and
myself shall meet.

Oh farewell.

Sweet play fellow,
pray thou for us

and good luck grant thee
thy Demetrius.

Keep word, Lysander.

We must starve our sight
from lovers' food

'til morrow deep midnight.

- I will, my Hermia.

Helena, adieu.

As you on him,
Demetrius dote on you.

- How happy some or
othersome can be.

Through Athens I am
thought as fair as she.

But what of that?

Demetrius thinks not so.

He will not know what all
but he do know.

I will go tell him of
fair Hermia's flight.

Then to the wood will he
tomorrow
night will he pursue her.

And for this intelligence
if I have thanks.

It is a dear expense.

But herein me nigh to
enrich my pain.

To have a sight tither
and back again.

(frenzied music)

- Mommy!

Mommy!

(screaming)

(crashing)

(happy music)

(thunder rumbling)

(determined, yet playful music)

(man exclaims)

- Good evening.

- It's okay.

(rapping at window)

- Is all our company here?

- You best to call
them generally,

man by man, according
to the scrip.

- Here is the scroll of
every man's name

which is thought fit
through all Athens

to play in our interlude
before the duke and duchess

on his wedding day at night.

- No, first, good Peter Quince,

say what the play treats on,

then read the names of the
actors, and so grow to a point.

- Marry, our play is The
Most Lamentable Comedy

and Most Cruel Death
of Pyramus and Thisbe.

(group groans)

- Very good piece of work,
I assure you, and a merry.

Now, good Peter Quince,
call forth your actors

by the scroll.

Masters spread yourselves.

- Answer as I call you.

Nick Bottom the weaver.

- Ready.

Name what part I am for,
and proceed.

- You, Nick Bottom, are
set down for Pyramus.

- What is Pyramus?

A lover or a tyrant?

- A lover that kills himself,
most gallant, for love.

(group exclaims)

That will ask some tears

in the true performing of it.

If I do it, let the audience

look to their eyes.

But my chief humor is
for a tyrant.

I could play Ercles rarely,

or a part to tear a cat
in, to make all split.

The raging rocks and
shivering shocks

shall break the locks
of prison gates,

and Phibbus' car shall
shine from far

and make and mar the
foolish fates.

(group exclaims and applauds)

This was lofty.

Now name the rest of
the players.

- Francis Flute--
- This is Ercles' vein.

Tyrants vein.

A lover is more condoling.

- Francis Flute the
bellows-mender.

- Here, Peter Quince.

- Flute, you must take
Thisbe on you.

- What is Thisbe?

A wandering knight?

- It is the lady that
Pyramus must love.

- Oh, that's good.

- Nay, faith, let not
me play a woman.

I have a beard, coming.

- Ah so one.

You shall play it in a mask

and you may speak as
small as you will.

- And I may hide my face,
let me play Thisbe, too.

I'll speak in a
monstrous little voice:

Fisne, Fisne!

Ah, Pyramus,

my lover dear,

thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear!

(feigns sobbing)

- No, no, you must play Pyramus.

And Flute, you Thisbe.

- Oh well proceed.

- Robin Starveling the tailor.

- Here, Peter Quince.

- Robin Starveling you
must play Thisbe's mother.

Hmm.

(snickering)

Tom Snout the tinker.

- Here Peter Quince.

- You Pyramus' father.

Myself, Thisbe's father.

Snug the joiner, you
the lion's part.

- Oh yes!

- And I hope here is
a play fitted.

- Have you the lion's
part written?

Pray you, if it be, give it me,

for I am slow of study.

- You may do it extempore,

for it is nothing but roaring.

- Oh let me play the lion, too.

I will roar that it will
make any man's heart

good to hear me.

I will roar that I will
make the duke say,

Let him roar again.

Let him roar again!

And you should do it
too terribly,

you would fright the
duchess and the ladies,

and they would shriek.

And that were enough
to hang us all.

(all exclaiming at once)

- I will aggravate my voice
so that I will roar you

as gently as any sucking dove;

I will roar you as 'twere
any nightingale.

(purrs)

- You can play no
part but Pyramus.

Pyramus is a sweet-faced man,

a proper man as one shall
see in a summer's day,

a most lovely
gentleman like man.

Therefore you must
needs play Pyramus.

Well...

I will undertake it.

(all exclaiming)

- Then masters, here
are your parts,

and I am to entreat you,
request you

and desire you to con
them by tomorrow night

and meet me in the palace wood,

a mile without the town
by moonlight.

There will we rehearse.

I pray you fail me not.

- We will meet and there
we may rehearse

most obscenely and courageously.

Take pains.

Be perfect.

Adieu.
- Right.

(determined, yet playful music)

- At the duke's oft we meet.

- Enough!

Hold your (mumbles)

(thunder crashes)

(peaceful music)
(thunder crashes)

- How now, spirit?

Whither wander you?

- Over hill, over dale,
through a bush,

through a briar, over park,
over pale,

through flood, through a fire,

I do wander everywhere.

Swifter than the moon's sphere.

And I serve the fairy queen,

to dew her orbs upon the green.

Farewell thou lob of
spirits, I'll be gone.

Our queen and all her
elves come here anon.

- 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 stolen from
an Indian king.

(playful music)

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 loved boy

crowns him with flowers
and makes him all her joy.

- Either I mistake your
shape and making quite

or else you are that
shrewd and navish sprite

called Robin Goodfellow.

And aren't you he?

- Thou speakest aright.

I am that merry
wanderer of the night.

- Oh!
- But room fairy,

here comes Oberon!

- And here my mistress.

Would that he were gone.

(playful music)

(popping)

(popping)

- Ill met by moonlight,
proud Titania.

- What, jealous Oberon!

Fairies, skip hence.

I have forsworn his
bed and company.

- Tarry wash wanton, am
not I thy lord?

- Then I must be thy lady.

Why art thou here,

come from the farthest
step 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.

- How canst thou thus for shame,
Titania,

glance at my credit
with Hippolyta,

knowing I know thy
love to Theseus?

- These are the
forgeries of jealousy.

And never, since the
middle summer's spring,

met we on hill, in dale, forest,
or mead,

but with thy brawls thou
hast disturbed our sport.

Therefore, the winds,
piping to us in vain,

as in revenge, have sucked
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 fold stands empty
in the drowned field,

And crows are fatted
with the murrion flock.

The human mortals want
their winter cheer,

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: 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 evil comes

from our debate, from
our dissension;

We are their parents
and original.

- 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.

- Set your heart at rest.

The fairy land buys not
the child of me.

- Give me that boy, and
I will go with thee.

- Not for thy fairy kingdom!

Fairies, away!

We shall chide downright
if I longer stay.

(frenzied music)

- Well, go thy ways.

Thou shalt not from this
grove 'til I torment thee

for this injury.

My gentle Puck, come hither.

Thou rememberest,
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.

- I remember.

- That very time, I saw,
but thou couldst not,

flying between the cold
moon and the Earth,

Cupid all armed.

A certain aim he took tt a fair
vestal throned by the west,

and loosed his love-shaft
smartly from his bow,

as it should pierce a
hundred thousand hearts.

Yet, marked 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 all man, all
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.

- I'll put a girdle round
about the Earth in 40 minutes.

(mystical music)

- 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.

(gasps)

But who comes here?

I am invisible; and I will
overhear their conference.

- I love thee not,
therefore pursue me not!

Where is Lysander and
fair Hermia?

Thou toldst me they were
stolen unto this wood,

and here am I, and wode
within this wood,

because I cannot meet my Hermia!

Get thee gone and
follow me no more!

- You draw me, you
hard-hearted adamant.

- 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?

- 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.

Tempt not too much the
hatred of my spirit,

for I am sick when I do
look on thee.

- And I am sick when I
look not on you!

You do impeach your
modesty too much

to trust the
opportunity of night

and the ill counsel of
a desert place

with the rich worth of
your virginity?

- Your virtue is my privilege.

- I'll run from thee and
hide me in the brakes

and leave thee to the
mercy of wild beasts!

- The wildest hath not
such a heart as you.

(growling)
(yelling)

Fie, Demetrius!

Your wrongs do set a
scandal on my sex!

We cannot fight for love
as men may do.

We should be wooed and
were not made to woo.

(twinkling)

I'll follow thee and make
a heaven of hell

to die upon the hand I
love so well.

- Fare thee well, nymph.

Ere he do leave this
grove, thou shalt fly him,

and he shall seek thy love.

Hast thou the flower there?

Welcome, wanderer.

- Ay, there it is.

- I pray thee give it to me.

I know a bank where the
wild thy me blows,

where oxlips and the
nodding violet grows,

quite over canopied with
the luscious woodbine,

with sweet musk-roses and
with eglantine.

There sleeps Titania
some time of the night.

Lulled in these flowers
with dances and delight.

And there the snake
throws her enameled 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.

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.

- Fear not, my lord.

Your servant shall do so.

(mystical music)

- Come, now a roundel
and a fairy song;

then, for the third
part of a minute, hence;

some to kill cankers
in the musk-rose buds,

some war with rere-mice
for their leathern wings,

to make my small elves coats.

Sing me now asleep; then to
your offices and let me rest.

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm ♪

♪ Nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, good night, with lullaby ♪

- Hence, away.

Now all is well.

One aloof stands sentinel.

(giggling)

(dramatic music)

(thoughtful music)

- What thou seest when
thou dost wake,

do it for thy true love take.

Love and languish for his sake.

Be it ounce or cat or bear,
pard, or boar

with bristled hair.

When thou wakest, it
is thy dear.

Wake when some vile
thing is near.

(bright music)

(horn honks)

(tires peeling)
(men exclaiming)

(tires peeling)

- Are we all met?

- Pat, pat; oh and here's a
marvelous convenient place

for our rehearsal.

- We will do it in action as
we will do it before the duke.

(men exclaiming)

(pensive music)

- Fair love.

You faint with
wandering in the wood,

and to speak truth, I have
forgot our way.

We'll rest us, Hermia,
if you think it good

and tarry for the
comfort of the day.

- Be it so, Lysander.

Find you out a bed for I
upon this bank

will rest my head.

- One turf shall serve
as pillow for us both.

One heart, one bed.

Two bosoms and one troth.

- Nay, gentle friend.

For love and courtesy, lie
further off in human modesty.

So far be distant.

And good night, sweet friend.

Thy love ne'er alter
'til thy sweet life end.

- Amen.

Amen to that fair prayer, say I.

And then end life when
I end loyalty.

Here is my bed.

Sleep give thee all his rest.

- With half that wish, the
wisher's eyes be pressed.

(ominous tones)

- Through the forest
have I gone,

but Athenian found I none

on whose eyes I might
approve this flower's force

in stirring love.

Night and silence.

Who is here?

This is he, my master said,
despised the Athenian maid.

And here the maiden,
sleeping sound

on the dank and dirty ground.

Pretty soul.

She durst not lie near
this lack-love,

this kill-courtesy.

Churl, upon thy eyes I
throw all the power

this charm doth owe.

When thou wakest,
let love forbid

sleep his seat on thy eyelid.

(laughing)

Awake when I am gone,

for I must now to Oberon!

(thoughtful music)

- Peter Quince.

- What sayest thou,
bully Bottom?

- There are things in this
Comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe.

that will never please.

First, Pyramus must draw
a sword to kill himself

which the ladies cannot abide.

How answer you that?

- By'r lakin, a parlous fear.

- I believe we must leave
the killing out

when all is done.

- Not a whit.

- I have a device to
make all well.

Write me a prologue,

and let the prologue seem to say

we will do no harm
with our swords

and that Pyramus is not
killed indeed,

and for the more
better assurance

tell them that I, Pyramus,
am not Pyramus,

but Bottom the weaver.

This will put them out of fear.

- If this may be,
then all is well.

Come, sit down,

every mother's son, and
rehearse your parts.

- What hempen homespuns
have we swaggering here

so near the cradle of
the fairy queen?

What!

A play toward!

I'll be an auditor;

An actor too, perhaps,
if I see cause.

- [Helena] Stay, though thou
kill me, sweet Demetrius.

- I charge thee, hence,
and do not haunt me thus.

- O, wilt thou
darkling leave me?

Do not so.

- Stay, on thy peril: I
alone will go.

- O, I am out of breath
in this fond chase!

The more my prayer,
the lesser is my grace.

But who is here?

Lysander!

On the ground?

Dead or asleep?

I see no blood, no wound.

Lysander if you live, good sir,
awake.

(twinkling)

- And run through fire I
will for thy sweet sake.

Transparent Helena!

Nature shows art, that
through thy bosom

makes me see thy heart.

Where is Demetrius?

O, how fit a word is that vile
name to perish on my sword!

- Do not say so, Lysander;
say not so.

What though he love your Hermia?

Lord, what though?

Yet Hermia still loves
you: then be content.

- Content with Hermia!

No; I do repent the tedious
minutes I with her have spent.

Not Hermia but Helena I love:

Who will not change a
raven for a dove?

- Wherefore was I to
this keen mockery born?

When at your hands did
I deserve this scorn?

O, that a lady, of
one man refused.

Should of another
therefore be abused!

- She sees not Hermia.

Hermia, sleep thou there:

And never mayst thou come
Lysander near!

And, all my powers,
address your love and might

to honor Helen and to
be her knight!

(unsettling music)

- Help me, Lysander, help me!

Do thy best to pluck this
crawling serpent from my breast!

Ay me, for pity!

What a dream was here!

Lysander, look how I do
quake with fear:

Methought a serpent ate
my heart away,

And you sat smiling at
his cruel pray.

Lysander!

What, removed?

Lysander! Lord!

What, out of hearing?

Gone? No sound, no word?

Lysander!

Lysander!

No?

Then I well perceive
you are not nigh.

Either death or you I'll
find immediately.

- Speak, Pyramus.

Thisbe, stand forth.

- Oh Thisbe, the flowers
of odious savors sweet,--

- Odorous.

- O-dor-ous.

- Odorous savors sweet:

So hath thy breath, my
dearest Thisbe dear.

But hark, a voice!

Stay thou but here awhile,

and by and by I will
to thee appear.

- A stranger Pyramus
than e'er played here.

- Thisbe, Thisbe.

- Must I speak now?

- Ay, marry, must you; for
you must understand he goes

but to see a noise that he
heard, and is to come again.

- Most radiant Pyramus,
most lily-white of hue.

- Uh huh, uh huh.

- Of color like the red
rose on triumphant brier,

ss true as truest horse
that yet would never tire,

I'll meet thee, Pyramus,
at Ninny's tomb.

- Ninus' tomb, man: why,
you must not speak that yet;

that you answer to Pyramus: you
speak all your part at once,

cues and all.

Enter Pyramus, your cue is
past; it is, never tire.

- O, as true as truest horse,

that yet would never tire.

- If I were fair, fair
Thisbe, I were only thine.

(eerie music)

(screams)

- O monstrous!

O strange!

We are haunted.

Pray, masters!

Fly, masters!

(Bottom exclaims)

- [All] Help!

- I'll follow you, I'll
lead you about a round,

Through bog, through bush,
through brake, through brier:

Sometime a horse I'll
be, sometime a hound,

a hog, a headless bear,
sometime a fire;

And neigh, and bark, and
grunt, and roar, and burn,

like horse, hound, hog,
bear, fire, at every turn.

(yelling)

= Why do they run away?

This is a knavery of
them to make me afeard.

- O Bottom, thou art changed!

What do I see on thee?

- What do you see?

You see an asshead of your own,
do you?

- Bless thee, Bottom!

Bless thee!

Thou art translated.

(bell dings)

(gasps)

(yelling)

- I see their knavery: this
is to make an ass of me;

to fright me, if they could.

But I will not stir
from this place,

do what they can: I will
walk up and down here,

and I will sing, that they
shall hear I am not afraid.

♪ The ousel cock so
black of hue ♪

♪ With orange-tawny bill ♪

♪ The throstle with his
note so true ♪

♪ The wren with little quill ♪

- [Titania] What angel wakes
me from my flowery bed?

♪ The finch, the sparrow
and the lark ♪

♪ The plain-song cuckoo gray ♪

♪ With notes full many a
man doth mark ♪

♪ And dares not answer nay ♪

(brays)

- I pray thee, gentle mortal,
sing again:

Mine ear is much
enamored of thy note;

So is mine eye
enthralled to thy shape;

And thy fair virtue's
force perforce

doth move me on the
first view to say,

to swear, I love thee.

- Methinks, mistress,

you should have little
reason for that.

And yet, to say the truth,

reason and love keep little
company together now-a-days.

(brays)

- Thou art as wise as
thou art beautiful.

- Oh.

(laughs)

Not so, neither: but if I
had wit enough

to get me out of this wood,

I have enough to serve
mine own turn.

- Out of this wood do
not desire to go:

(grunting)

Thou shalt remain here,
whether thou wilt or no.

I am a spirit of no common rate;

The summer still doth
tend upon my state;

And I do love thee: therefore,
go with me.

(engine revs)

And I will purge thy
mortal grossness so

that thou shalt like an
airy spirit go.

(brays)

Peaseblossom!

Cobweb, Moth and Mustardseed!

- Ready.

- And I.

- And I.

- And I.

- [All] Where shall we go?

- Be kind and courteous to
this gentleman;

(happy music)

- Hail, mortal!

- Hail!

- Hail!

- Hail!

(roars playfully)

- I cry your worship's mercy,
heartily,

I beseech your worship's name.

- Cobweb.

- I shall desire you of
more acquaintance,

good Master Cobweb.

If I cut my finger, I
shall make bold with you.

Your name, honest gentleman?

- Peaseblossom.

(laughing)

- And yours?

- Mustardseed.

- O good Master Mustardseed.

- Come, wait upon him;
lead him to my bower.

The moon methinks looks
with a watery eye

and when she weeps, weeps
every little flower,

lamenting some
enforced chastity.

(squeaking)
(braying)

Tie up my love's tongue,
bring him silently.

(regal music)

- This falls out better
than I could devise.

(braying)
(grunting)

But hast thou yet latch'd
the Athenian's eyes

with the love-juice, as I
did bid thee do?

- I took him sleeping,
that is finish'd too.

And the Athenian
woman by his side,

that, when he waked, of
force she must be eyed.

- Stand close: this is
the same Athenian.

- This is the woman, but
not this the man.

- Where is Lysander?

Oh, good Demetrius, wilt
thou give him me?

- I'd rather give his
carcass to my hounds.

- Out, dog!

Out, cur!

Thou drivest me past the
bounds of maiden's patience.

Hast thou slain him, then?

- I'm not guilty of
Lysander's blood;

Nor is he dead, for all
that I can tell.

- I pray thee, tell me
then that he is well.

- And if I could, what
should I get therefore?

- A privilege never
to see me more.

- There is no following
her in this fierce vein:

Here therefore for a
while I will remain.

(wind howling)

(thunder crashing)

- What hast thou done?

Thou hast mistaken quite

and laid the love-juice
on some true-love's sight:

About the wood go
swifter than the wind

and Helena of Athens
look thou find.

By some illusion see thou
bring her here.

I'll charm his eyes
against she do appear.

- I go, I go; look how I go,

Swifter than arrow from
the Tartar's bow.

- Flower of this purple dye,

hit with Cupid's archery.

Sink in apple of his eye.

When his love he doth espy,

let her shine as gloriously
as the Venus of the sky.

When thou wakest, if she be
by, beg of her for remedy.

- Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand.

And the youth, mistook by me,
pleading for a lover's fee.

Shall we their fond pageant see?

Lord, what fools
these mortals be!

- Stand aside: the
noise they make

will cause Demetrius to awake.

- These vows are Hermia's.

- I had no judgment when
to her I swore.

- Nor none, in my mind,
now you give her o'er.

- [Lysander] Demetrius loves
her, and he loves not you.

- O Helena, goddess,

nymph, perfect, divine!

To what, my love, shall
I compare thine eyne?

Crystal is muddy.

O, how ripe in show thy lips,

those kissing cherries,
tempting grow!

- O spite!

O hell!

I see you all are bent

to set against me for
your merriment:

Can you not hate me, as
I know you do,

but you must join in souls
to mock me too?

You are unkind, Demetrius;
be not so;

for you love Hermia; this
you know I know:

- Lysander, keep thy Hermia;
I will none:

if e'er I loved her,
all that love is gone.

- Thou art not by mine
eye, Lysander, found;

mine ear, I thank it,
brought me to thy sound

but why unkindly didst
thou leave me so?

- Why should he stay, whom
love doth press to go?

- What love could press
Lysander from my side?

- Lysander's love, that
would not let him bide.

Fair Helena, who more
engilds the night

than all yon fiery oes
and eyes of light.

Why seek'st thou me?

Could not this make thee know,

the hate I bear thee
made me leave thee so?

- You speak not as you
think: it cannot be.

- Lo, she is one of
this confederacy!

Now I perceive they
have conjoin'd all three

to fashion this false
sport, in spite of me.

- Stay, gentle Helena;
hear my excuse:

my love, my life my soul,
fair Helena!

- O excellent!

- Sweet, do not scorn her so.

- If she cannot entreat,
I can compel.

- Thou canst compel no
more than she entreat:

♪ I love you. ♪

- Helen, I love thee; by
my life, I do:

(knocking at door)

- [Demetrius] I say I love
thee more than he can do.

- If thou say so,
withdraw, and prove it too.

- Quick, come!

- Lysander, whereto
tends all this?

- Demetrius, I will
keep my word with thee.

- You're a tame man, go!

- What, should I hurt her,
strike her, kill her dead?

Although I hate her, I'll
not harm her so.

- What, can you do me
greater harm than hate?

Why, then you left me, O,
the gods forbid!

In earnest, shall I say?

- Ay, by my life;

And never did desire to
see thee more.

Therefore be out of hope,
of question, of doubt;

be certain, nothing truer;
'tis no jest

that I do hate thee
and love Helena.

- O me, you juggler!

You canker-blossom!

(yells)

- Let her not strike me.

(Hermia exclaims)

You perhaps may think

because she is something
lower than myself,

That I can match her.

- Lower!

Hark, again.

(men yelling)
(Helena screams)

- Be not afraid; she shall
not harm thee, Helena.

- No, sir, she shall not,
though you take her part.

- O, when she's angry,
she is keen and shrewd!

She was a vixen when she
went to school;

And though she be but
little, she is fierce.

- Little again!

Nothing but low and little!

Why will you suffer her
to flout me thus?

Let me come to her.

- Get you gone, you dwarf,

you minimus, of hindering
knot-grass made

you bead, you acorn.

- You are too officious.

Let her alone: speak
not of Helena;

Take not her part.

- Now she holds me not.

Now follow, if thou
darest, to try whose right,

of thine or mine, is
most in Helena.

- Follow?

Nay, I'll go with thee,
cheek by jole.

- You, mistress, all this
coil is 'long of you:

Nay, go not back.

- I will not trust you, I,

nor longer stay in your
curst company.

Your hands than mine
are quicker for a fray,

my legs are longer though,
to run away.

- I am amazed, and know
not what to say.

(thunder crashes)

This is thy negligence:
still thou mistakest,

or else committ'st thy
knaveries willfully.

- Believe me, king of shadows,
I mistook.

Did not you tell me I
should know the man

by the Athenian
garments he had on?

And so far blameless
proves my enterprise,

that I have 'nointed an
Athenian's eyes;

(groans)

- Thou see'st these lovers
seek a place to fight:

Hie therefore, Robin,
overcast the night;

The starry welkin
cover thou anon

with drooping fog as
black as Acheron

and lead these testy
rivals so astray

as one come not within
another's way.

'Til o'er their brows
death-counterfeiting sleep

with leaden legs and
batty wings doth creep.

Then crush this herb into
Lysander's eye

whose liquor hath this
virtuous property

to take from thence all
error with his might,

and make his eyeballs
roll with wonted sight.

When they next wake,
all this derision

shall seem a dream and
fruitless vision,

and back to Athens shall
the lovers wend,

with league whose dates
'til death shall never end.

Whilst I in this affair
do thee employ,

I'll to my queen

and beg her Indian boy;

And then I will her
charmed eye release

from monster's view, and
all things shall be peace.

- My fairy lord, this
must be done with haste,

for night's swift dragons
cut the clouds full fast

and yonder shines
Aurora's harbinger.

At whose approach, ghosts,
wandering here and there

troop home to churchyards:
damned spirits all,

that in crossways and
floods have burial,

already to their wormy
beds are gone.

- But we are spirits of
another sort:

I with the morning's
love have oft made sport

like a forester, the
groves may tread,

even 'til the eastern gate,
all fiery-red,

opening on Neptune with
fair blessed beams,

turns into yellow gold
his salt green streams.

(unsettling music)

(thunder crashes)

But, notwithstanding,
haste; make no delay:

We may effect this
business yet ere day.

- Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down:

I am fear'd in field and town:

Goblin, lead them up and down.

Here comes one.

- Where art thou,
proud Demetrius?

Speak thou now.

- Here, villain;
drawn and ready.

Where art thou?

- I'll be with thee straight.

- Follow me, then, to
plainer ground.

- Lysander, speak again.

Runaway, thou coward,
art thou fled?

Speak!

In some bush?

Where dost thou hide thy head?

- Thou coward, art thou
bragging to the stars,

telling the bushes that
thou look'st for wars,

And wilt not come?

Come, thou recreant; come,
child;

- Yea, art thou there?

(yelling)

(exclaims)

- Follow my voice: we'll
try no manhood here.

- He goes before me and
still dares me on.

When I come where he
calls, then he is gone.

Here will rest me.

Come, thou gentle day!

For if but once thou
show me thy grey light,

I'll find Demetrius
and revenge this spite.

- [Puck] Ho, ho, ho,
coward, why comest thou not?

- Abide me, if thou
darest; for well I know

thou runn'st before me,
shifting every place,

- [Puck] Come hither: I am here.

- Nay, go thy way.

Faintness constraineth me

to measure out my length
on this cold bed.

By day's approach look
to be visited.

- O weary night, O long
and tedious night,

abate thy hours!

Shine comforts from the east

and sleep,

that sometimes shuts up
sorrow's eye,

Steal me awhile from
mine own company.

- Yet but three?

Come one more, two of
both kinds makes up four.

Here she comes, curst and sad:

Cupid is a knavish lad,

thus to make poor females mad.

- Never so weary,
never so in woe,

I can no further crawl,
no further go.

Here will I rest me 'til
the break of day.

Heavens shield Lysander,
if they mean a fray!

- On the ground sleep sound:

I'll apply to your eye,
gentle lover, remedy.

When thou wakest, thou takest

true delight tn the sight

of thy former lady's eye:

And the country proverb known,

that every man should
take his own,

in your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill;
naught shall go ill.

The man shall have his mare
again, and all shall be well.

(mystical music)

(braying)
(crowd all talking at once)

- Come, sit thee down
upon this flowery bed,

whilst I thy amiable
cheeks do coy

and stick musk-roses in
thy sleek smooth head

and kiss thy fair large
ears, my gentle joy.

- Ph, where's Peaseblossom?

- Ready.

- Scratch my head good
monsieur Peaseblossom.

Where's monsieur Cobweb?

- Ready.

- Monsieur Cobweb,
good monsieur,

get you your weapons
in your hand,

(giggling)

and kill me a
red-hipped humble-bee

from the top of a thistle;

and, good monsieur, bring
me the honeybag.

Where's monsieur Mustardseed?

- Ready.

What's your will?

- Nothing, oh but to help
Cavalery Peaseblossom to
scratch.

I must to the barber's,

for methinks I am marvelous
hairy about the face.

- Sayest sweet love, what
thou desirest to eat.

I have a venturous fairy
that shall seek

the squirrel's hoard,
and fetch thee new nuts.

(laughing)

- I had rather have a
handful or two of dried peas.

But, I pray you, let none
of your people stir me.

I have an exposition
of sleep come upon me.

- Sleep thou, and I will
wind thee in my arms.

Fairies, begone.

(fairies exclaiming)

And be all ways away.

(fairies twittering)

So doth the woodbine the sweet
honeysuckle gently entwist,

the female ivy so enrings
the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee!

How I dote on thee!

(gentle music)

- Welcome, good Robin.

See'st thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do
begin to pity.

For, meeting her of late
behind the wood,

seeking sweet favors
from this hateful fool,

I did upbraid her and
fall out with her

when I had at my
pleasure taunted her

and she in mild terms
had begged my patience,

I then did ask of her her
changeling child

which straight she gave me.

And her fairy sent to bear
him to my bower in fairy land.

And now I have the boy.

I will undo this hateful
imperfection of her eyes.

And, gentle Puck, take
this transformed scalp

from off the head of this
Athenian swain

that, he awaking when
the others 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!

Me thought I was
enamored of an ass.

- There lies your love.

(snoring)

- 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.

(exotic music)

- Now thou and I are
new in amity

and will tomorrow
midnight solemnly dance

in Duke Theseus' house
triumphantly,

and bless it to all
fair prosperity.

- 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.

(dramatic music)

- Peter Quince!

Flute, the bellows-mender!

God's my life, stolen
hence, and left me asleep!

I have had a most rare vision.

I have had a dream, past
the wit of man

to say what dream it
was: man is but an ass,

if he go about to
expound this dream.

Me thought I was, well
no man can tell what.

Me thought I was,

and me thought I had,

no.

Man is but a patched fool,
if he will offer to say

what me thought I had.

I will get Peter Quince to
write me a ballad of this dream.

And it'll be called
Bottom's Dream,

because it hath no bottom;

and I will sing it in
the latter end of a play

before the duke.

(playful music)

Where are these lads?

Where are these hearts?

(laughing

- Bottom!
- Bottom!

- O most courageous day!

O most happy hour!

- Masters, I am to
discourse wonders.

(men exclaiming)

(crowd murmuring)

(gentle music)

- 'Tis strange my Theseus,
that these lovers speak of.

- More strange than true.

I never may believe these
antique fables,

nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have
such seething brains,

such shaping fantasies,
that apprehend more

than cool reason ever
comprehends.

The lunatic, the
lover and the poet

are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils
than vast hell can hold,

that is, the madman: the
lover, all as frantic,

sees Helen's beauty in a
brow of Egypt:

The poet's eye, in fine
frenzy rolling

doth glance from heaven to
Earth, from Earth to heaven.

And as imagination bodies forth
the forms of things unknown,

the poet's pen turns
them to shapes

and gives to airy nothing a
local habitation and a name.

Such tricks hath
strong imagination,

That if it would but
apprehend some joy,

it comprehends some
bringer of that joy;

or in the night,
imagining some fear,

how easy is a bush
supposed a bear!

Here come the lovers,
full of joy and mirth.

Come now; what masks,
what dances shall we have,

to wear away this long
age of three hours

between our
after-supper and bed-time?

Call Philostrate.

- Here, mighty Theseus.

Here is a brief how many
sports are ripe:

Make choice of which your
highness will see first.

- The battle with the Centaurs,
to be sung

by an Athenian eunuch
to the harp.

None of that.
(guests chuckling)

A tedious brief scene
of young Pyramus

and his love Thisbe; very
tragical mirth.

Merry and tragical!

Tedious and brief!

How shall we find the
concord of this discord?

- A play there is, my
lord, some 10 words long,

which is as brief as I
have known a play.

But by 10 words, my lord,
it is too long,

which makes it tedious.

And tragical, my noble lord,
it is;

for Pyramus therein
doth kill himself.

Which, when I saw
rehearsed, I must confess,

made mine eyes water; but
more merry tears

the passion of loud
laughter never shed.

- And what are they
that do play it?

- Hard-handed men that
work in Athens here,

that never labored in
their minds 'til now.

- And we will hear it.

- Come, take your places.

(thoughtful music)

(audience applauds)

- Gentles, perchance
you wonder at this show.

But wonder on, 'til truth
make all things plain.

This man is Pyramus, if
you would know.

This beauteous lady
Thisbe is certain.

This man, with lime and
rough-cast, doth present Wall,

that vile Wall which
did these lovers sunder

and through Wall's chink,
poor souls,

they are content to whisper.

At the which let no man wonder.

This man, with lantern,
dog, and bush of thorn,

presenteth Moonshine; for,
by moonshine

if you will know, did
these lovers think no scorn

to meet at Ninus' tomb,
there, there to woo.

This grisly beast, which
Lion hight by name,

(growls)

the trusty Thisbe, coming
first by night,

did scare away, or
rather did affright;

And, as she fled, her
mantle she did fall,

which Lion vile with
bloody mouth did stain.

Anon comes Pyramus, sweet
youth and tall,

and finds his trusty
Thisbe's mantle slain

whereat, with blade, with
bloody blameful blade,

he bravely broach'd his
boiling bloody breast.

And Thisbe, tarrying in
mulberry shade,

his dagger drew, and died.

For all the rest, let Lion,
Moonshine,

Wall, and lovers twain

at large discourse, while
here they do remain.

(audience applauds)

- I wonder if the
lion be to speak.

- [Demetrius] No wonder,
my lord:

one lion may, when
many asses do.

- In this same interlude
it doth befall

that I, one Snout by name,
present a Wall.

And such a Wall, as I
would have you think,

that had in it a crannied
hole or chink,

It is the wittiest
partition that ever I heard

discourse, my lord.

(audience laughs)

- O grim-look'd night!

O night with hue so black!

O night, which ever art
when day is not!

O night, O night!

Alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisbe's
promise is forgot!

And thou, O wall,

O sweet, O lovely wall,

show me thy chink, to blink

through with mine eyne!

Thanks, courteous wall: Jove
shield thee well for this!

But what see I?

No Thisbe do I see.

O wicked wall, through
whom I see no bliss!

Cursed be thy stones
for thus deceiving me!

- The wall, methinks, being
sensible, should curse again.

- Oh no, no, in truth, sir,
he should not.

Deceiving me is Thisbe's cue:

she is to enter now, and I am
to spy her through the wall.

You shall see, it will
fall pat as I told you.

Yonder she comes.

- O wall, full often
hast thou heard my moans,

for parting my fair
Pyramus and me!

My cherry lips have
often kissed thy stones,

thy stones with lime and
hair knit up in thee.

- I see a voice: now will
I to the chink,

and spy and I can hear my
Thisbe's face.

Thisbe!

- My love thou art, my
love I think.

- O kiss me through the
hole of this vile wall!

- I kiss the wall's hole,
not your lips at all.

- Wilt thou at Ninny's
tomb meet me straightway?

- Ninus' tomb!

O thou at Ninus' tomb meet
me straightway?

- Tide life, 'tide death,
I come without delay.

(audience laughs and applauds)

- Thus have I, Wall,
my part discharged so.

And, being done, thus
Wall away doth go.

(audience applauds)

- This is the silliest
stuff that ever I heard.

- The best in this kind
are but shadows;

and the worst are no worse,
if imagination amend them.

- [Hippolyta] It must be
your imagination then,

and not theirs.

- Here come two noble
beasts in, a man and a lion.

- You, ladies, you, whose
gentle hearts do fear

the smallest monstrous
mouse that creeps on floor,

may now perchance both
quake and tremble here,

when lion rough in wildest
rage doth roar,

(roars)

then know that I,

(imitates trumpet fanfare)

as Snug the joiner, am a
lion-fell, nor else no lion's
dam.

For, if I should as lion
come in strife

tnto this place, 'twere
pity on my life.

- A very gentle beast,
of a good conscience.

- This lantern doth the
horned moon present--

- [Demetrius] He should have
worn the horns on his head.

(audience laughs)

- This lantern doth the
horned moon present:

Myself the man in the moon
do seem to be--

- [Hippolyta] I am
aweary of this moon:

would he would change!

- [Lysander] Proceed, Moon.

- All that I have to say,
is, to tell you that the

lantern is the moon;
I, the man in the moon;

this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush;
and this dog, my dog.

- This is old Ninny's tomb.

- Ninus', Ninus'.
- Shh!

- This is old Ninus' tomb.

Where is my love?

(roaring)

- Sweet Moon, I thank
thee for thy sunny beams,

I thank thee, Moon, for
shining now so bright,

for by thy gracious,
golden, glittering gleams

I trust to take of truest
Thisbe's sight.

But stay, O spite!

But mark, poor knight,
what dreadful dole is here!

O dainty duck, O dear!

Thy mantle good, what,
stain'd with blood!

Approach, ye furies fell!

O Fates, come, come,

cut thread and thrum;

Quail, crush, conclude,
and quell!

(thoughtful music)

- This passion, and the
death of a dear friend,

would go near to make a
man look sad.

- Beshrew my heart, but
I pity the man.

- Wherefore, nature,
Hadst thou lions frame?

Since lion vile hath
here deflowered my dear:

Which is, no, no, which
was the fairest dame

that lived, that loved,
that liked,

that looked with cheer.

Come, tears, confound!

Out, sword, and wound the
pap of Pyramus;

Ay, that left pap,

Where heart doth hop.

Thus die I.

(yells)

Thus.

(yells)

Thus.

(pants)

Thus.

Now am I dead, now am I fled,

my soul is in the sky,

tongue, lose thy light,

moon take thy flight:

Now die, die, die, die.

Die.

- With the help of a
surgeon he might yet recover

and still prove an ass.

- Her Thisbe comes and
her passion ends the play.

- [Lysander] She hath
spied him already

with those sweet eyes.

- Asleep, my love?

What, dead, my dove?

O Pyramus, arise!

Speak, speak.

Quite dumb?

Dead, dead?

A tomb must cover
thy sweet eyes.

These lily lips, this
cherry nose,

these yellow cowslip cheeks

are gone, are gone.

Lovers, make moan.

His eyes were green as leeks.

O sisters three, come,
come to me

with hands as pale as milk.

Lay them in gore, since
you have shore

with shears his thread of silk.

Tongue, not a word.

Come, trusty sword.

Come, blade, my breast imbrue.

(exclaims)

And, farewell, friends.

Thus Thisbe ends.

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

- Moonshine and Lion are
left to bury the dead.

- Ay, and Wall too.

- No sir, I assure you;
the Wall is down

that parted their fathers.

(audience applauds)

Will it please you to
see the epilogue,

or to hear a Bergomask dance
between two of the company?

- No epilogue, I pray you;
for your play needs no excuse.

(instruments tuning)

(murmuring)

But come, your Bergomask:
let your epilogue alone.

(shoes clicking)

("Shave and a Haircut,
Two Bits")

(exclaiming)

(bell tolls)

- Mommy!

(growling)

- The iron tongue of
midnight hath told 12.

'Tis almost fairy time.

Sweet friends, to bed.

A fortnight hold we
this solemnity,

in nightly revels and
new jollity.

(thudding)

(unsettling music)

- Now the hungry lion roars

and the wolf behowls the moon,

whilst the heavy
ploughman snores,

all with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow

whilst the screech-owl,
screeching loud

puts the wretch that lies in woe

in remembrance of a shroud.

Now it is the time of night

that the graves all gaping wide,

every one lets forth his sprite,

in the church-way
paths to glide.

And we fairies, that do run
by the triple Hecate's team

from the presence of the sun

following darkness like a dream,

now are frolic.

Not a mouse shall disturb
this hallow'd house:

I am sent with broom before

to sweep the dust
behind the door.

(singing in foreign
language in the distance)

- Now, until the break of day,

through this house
each fairy stray.

To the best bride-bed will we
which by us shall blessed be;

and the issue there create
ever shall be fortunate.

So shall all the couples
three ever true in loving be;

and the blots of nature's hand

shall not in their issue stand.

Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,

nor mark prodigious, such
as are despised in nativity,

shall upon their children be.

With this field-dew consecrate,

every fairy take his gait;

And each several chamber bless,

through this palace,
with sweet peace;

and the owner of it blest
ever shall in safety rest.

(happy music)

Trip away; make no stay;

meet me all by break of day.

- If we shadows have offended,

think but this, and
all is mended,

that you have but slumbered here

while these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,
no more yielding but a dream.

Gentles, do not reprehend.

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, as I am an honest Puck,
if we have unearned luck

now to 'scape the
serpent's tongue,

we will make amends ere long,

else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if
we be friends

and Robin shall restore amends.

(bright music)

(happy music)

(exotic music)

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor
spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor
spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, good night, with lullaby ♪

♪ Weaving spiders,
come not here ♪

♪ Hence, you long-legged
spinners, hence ♪

♪ Beetles black,
approach not near ♪

♪ Worm nor snail, do
no offense ♪

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor
spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ Philomel with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor
spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, good night, with lullaby ♪