Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Titu. How came these things to pass? Titania, music call; and strike more dead Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine Obe. Sound, music. [Still Music.] Come, my And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly, Puck. Fairy king, attend, and mark; Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad, once, Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here Forepart. But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with Horns, and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSAN DER, HERMIA, and HELENA, wake and star up. The. Good-morrow friends. Saint Valentine Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? [He and the rest kneel to THESeus. Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, [be Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have I beg the law, the law upon his head.— * Thereby to have defeated you and me: The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately me : [Exeunt THE. HIP. EGE. and train. When every thing seems double. Hel. So methinks: Mine own, and not mine own. Dem. It seems to me, [think, That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you + Try. * Love. The duke was here, and bid us follow him? Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple. Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow him; And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt. As they go out, BOTTOM awakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer:-my text is, Most fair Pyramus. Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellowsmender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! 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. Methought I was-there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had,-But man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall 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: Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. [Exit. SCENE II-Athens.-A Room in QUINCE'S Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet? Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported. Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred; It goes not forward, doth it? Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man ia all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he. Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens. Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very paramour, for a sweet voice. Flu. You must say, paragon: a paramour is, God bless us, a thing of nought. Enter SNUG. Snug. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a-day during his life; he could not have 'scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing. Enter BOTTOM. Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? Quin. Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour! Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out. Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom. Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is, that the duke hath dined: Get your apparel together; good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o'er his part; for, the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt, but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words: away; go, away. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-The sume.-An Apartment in the Palace of THESEUS. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Hip. Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of. The. 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 And, as imagination bodies forth Hip. But all the story of the night told over, The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love mirth.Accompany your hearts! Lys. More than to us [bed! Wait on your royal walks, your board, your The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours, Philost. Here, mighty Theseus. * Are made of mere imagination. tl'astime. + Stability Short accovet Make choice of which your highness will see [Giving a paper. first. The. [Reads.] The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung, By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage. A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, Which is as brief as I have known a play; The. What are they, that do play it? Which never laboured in their minds till now; Philost. No, my noble lord, It is not for you: I have heard it over, [pain, Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will, We do not come as minding to content you, The. This fellow doth not stand upon points Lys. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt, he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true. Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue, like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government. The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? know, "By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn "To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to Woo. "This grisly beast, which by name lion hight,+ The. I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in;-and take your places, ladies. [Exit PHILOSTRATE. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'erAnd duty in his service perishing. [charg'd," The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall; stain: "Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall, "He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Enter PHILOSTRATE. [Exeunt PROLOGUE, THISBE, LION, and MOONSHINE. The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do. Wall. "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 cranny'd hole, or chink, "Through which the lovers, Pyramus and "Did whisper often very secretly. [Thieby, Philost. So please your grace the prologue is" This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone addrest.t • Unexercised. doth show, sical instrument. "That I am that same wall; the truth is so: The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord. men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moo and a lion. The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!" Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black! "O night, which ever art, when day is not! "O night, Ó night, alack, alack, alack, "I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!"And thou, O wall, O'sweet, O lovely wall, "That stand'st between her father's ground and mine; "Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, "Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne. [WALL holds up his fingers. "Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this! "But what see I? No Thisby do I see. Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he should not. Deceiving me, is Thisby'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. ed so; "And, being done, thus wall away doth go." [Exeunt WALL, PYRAMUS, and THISBE. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning. Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The. The sest in this kind are but shadows: and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent Enter LION and MOONSHINE. Lion. "You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear "The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, May now, perchance, both quake and trem ble here, "When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar Then know, that I, one Snug the joiner, am "A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam: "For if I should as lion come in strife "Into this place, 'twere pity on my life." The. A very gentle beast and of a good conscience. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw. Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goose for his discretion. Dem. Not so, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. Moon. This lantern doth the horned moon present:" Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. Moon. "This lantern doth the horned moon present; Myself the man i'the moon do seem to be." The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern: How is it else the man i'the moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: for, you see, it is already in snuff.* Hip. I am weary of this moon: Would, he would change! The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Lys. Proceed, moon. 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. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But, silence here comes Thisbe. For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams, "I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. "But stay;-O spite! "But mark;-Poor knight, "What dreadful dole is here? "Eyes, do you see? “O dainty duck! O dear! "What, stain'd with blood? "Approach, ye furies fell! O fates! come, come; 62 Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!t" The. This passion, and the death of a dear fiend, would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. "O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame? "Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear: "Which is no, no-which was the fairest dame, "That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer. "Come, tears, confound; "Out, sword, and wound "The pap of Pyramus: Ay, that left pap, "Where heart doth hop: "Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. "Now am I dead, "Now am I fled; "My soul is in the sky: 66 Tongue, lose thy light! "Moon, take thy flight! "Now die, die, die, die, die. [Dies.-Exit MOONSHINE. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass. Hip. How chance moonshine is gone, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. Enter THISBE. Hip. Methinks, she should not use a long one, for such a Pyramus: I hope, she will be brief. Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better. Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes. Dem. And thus she moans, videlicet. This." 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 brows, "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, Coarse yarn. + Destroy. "Since you have shore "With shears his thread of silk. 6. Tongue, not a word :Come, trusty sword; "Come, blade, my breast imbrue: "And farewell, friends; "Thus Thisby ends: "Adieu, adieu, adieu." [Dies. The. Moonshine, and lion are left to bury the dead. Dem. Ay, and wall too. Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our company? The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. [Here a dance of Clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn, A fortnight hold we this solemnity, SCENE II.-Enter PUCK. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, [Exeunt. And the wolf behowls the moon; That the graves, all gaping wide, By the triple Hecat's team, Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their Train. Every elf, and fairy sprite, Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty, after me, Sing and dance it trippingly. [light Tita. First, rehearse this song by rote; To each word a warbling note, Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we sing, and bless this place. SONG, and DANCE. Obe. 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; *Countenance. |