Midsummer Nights Dream
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- TITANIAThese 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 in the beachèd margent of the sea,To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,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 seaContagious fogs, which falling in the landHave every pelting river made so proudThat they have overborne their continents.The ox hath therefore stretched his yoke in vain,The human mortals want their winter here.No night is now with hymn or carol blessed.Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,Pale in her anger, washes all the air,That rheumatic diseases do abound.
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- And thorough this distemperature we seeThe seasons alterTheir wonted liveries, and the mazèd world,By their increase, now knows not which is which.And this same progeny of evils comesFrom our debate, from our dissension.We are their parents and original.
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