"How now, spirit! Whither wander you?"

"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? Weeds of Athens he doth wear: 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: So awake when I am gone; for I must now to Oberon."

"If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd 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."