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And laid the love-juice on some true-love’s sight.

Of thy misprision must perforce ensue

Some true love turn’d, and not a false turn’d true.

Puck.

Then fate o’errules, that one man holding troth,

A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

Obe.

About the wood go swifter than the wind,

And Helena of Athens look thou find.

All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer

With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.

By some illusion see thou bring her here.

I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.

Puck.

I go, I go, look how I go,

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.

[Exit.]

Obe.

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 wak’st, if she be by,

Beg of her for remedy.

Enter Puck.

Puck.

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!