OBERON. Silence awhile.—Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense. TITANIA. Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep. PUCK. Now when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep. OBERON. Sound, music. [_Still 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 tomorrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperi…