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ACT V.

SCENE 1.-THE HOUSE OF QUINCE AGAIN.

Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING.

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 in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus, but Bottom.

Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft 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 naught.

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 gonc 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! [They all crowd about him.]

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 everything, 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 Thisbe 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, cat no onions, nor garlic, 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.

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[Exeunt.

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SCENE 2. THE PALACE OF THESEUS.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, and Lords, and attendants.

Hip. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak

The. More strange than true. I never may believe

These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have such secthing brains.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,

Are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils than vast space can hold

That is, the madman; the lover, all as frantic,

Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.

The poet's cyc, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;

And, as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen

Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA, with

EGEUS.

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.-Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love, Accompany your hearts!

Lys.

More than to us,

Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!

The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have,

To wear away this long age of three hours?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,

To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philostrate.

Philost.

[PHILOSTRATE enters from R.

Here, mighty Theseus.

The. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening ? What mask, what music? How shall we beguile

The lazy time, if not with some delight?

Philost. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe; Make choice of which your highness will see first.

[Offers a paper to THESEUS, who directs DEMETRIUS to

read.

Dem. [Reads.] The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung, By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.

The. We'll none of that: that have I told my love,

In glory of my kinsman Hercules.

Dem. The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,

Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.

The. That is an old device, and it was play'd
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
Dem. A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus,
And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth-

The. Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?
That is, hot ice, and wondrous strange snow.
How shall we find the concord of this discord?

Philost. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long ;

Which is as brief as I have known a play;

But by ten words, my lord, it is too long;

Which makes it tedious: for in all the play,
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my noble lord, it is;

For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.

Which, when I saw rehears'd, I must confess,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.

The. What are they that do play it?

Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,
Which never labour'd in their minds till now;
And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories
With this same play, against your nuptial.

The. I will hear that play;

For never anything can be amiss,

When simpleness and duty tender it.

Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.

[Exit PHILOSTRATE, R. HELENA and HERMIA, LYSAN-
DER and DEMETRIUS, with EGEUS, recline on the di-
vans at L. THESEUS and HIPPOLITA and Court sit R.
Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd,
And duty in his service perishing.

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 nothing.

Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake:

And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.

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Enter PHILOSTRATE.

Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is address'd.

The. Let him approach.

[Flourish of trumpets.

Enter upon the platform at back PETER QUINCE, representing

PROLOGUE.

Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will.

That you should think, we come not to offend,
But with good will. To show our simple skill,

That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then, we come but in despite.
We do not come, as minding to content you,
All for your delight,

Our true intent is.

We are not here.

That you should here repent you,

The actors are at hand; and by their show,

You shall know all, that you are like to know.

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 his 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?

[During the following, as cach man is named he enters,
bows, and goes above and stands until the end of the
Prologue. BOTTOM as PYRAMUS, FLUTE as THISBE,
SNOUT as WALL, STARVELING as MOONSHINE, and
SNUG as LION. PROLOGUE is a very aged man,
crowned with bays.

Prol. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;

This beauteous lady Thisbe is, certain.

This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder:
And through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are content
To whisper; at the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,
Presenteth Moonshine: for, if you will 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 trusty Thisbe, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright:
And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall;

Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.

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