Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, But, like in sickness, did I loath this food: The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: And, for the morning now is something worn, [Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. 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 aday, iu 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 Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions, When every thing seems double. Hel. So methinks: And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own. Dem. It seems to me, That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think, The duke was here, and bid us follow him? Her. Yea; and my father. Hel. And Hippolyta. 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 next is, Most fair Pyramus.-Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! 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 House. Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING. Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet? [is transported. Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he 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 he. Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handy craft 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. 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. ACT V. SCENE I.-The same. [Exeunt. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Hip. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of. [lieve The. More strange than true. I never may be- Hip. But all the story of the night told over, Enter LYSANDer, DemetriUS, HERMIA, and 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 on 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, 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; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. 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; The. I will hear that play : Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. And in the modesty of fearful duty Enter PHILOSTRATE. Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is addrest. The. Let him approach. (Flourish of trumpets.) Enter 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, Our true intent is. All for your delight, 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 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? Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moon-shine, and Lion, as in dumb show. 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 Thisby is, certáin. "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 moon-shine: for, if you will know, By moon-shine 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 Thisby, 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: "Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall, "And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain: "Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, "He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; "And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade, "His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, "Let lion, moon-shine, wall, and lovers twain, "At large discourse, while here they do remain.” [Exeunt Prol. Thisbe, Lion, and Moon-shine. 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 Thisby, "Did whisper often very secretly. [show "This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth "That I am that same wall; the truth is so: "And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition, that ever I heard discourse, my lord. The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence! Enter Pyramus. Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black! "O night, which ever art, when day is not! “O night, O 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, Ó wall, O sweet and lovely wall, "Shew 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. "O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss; "Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!"" The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again. 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. Enter Thisbe. This. "O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, "For parting my fair Pyramus and me: " My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones; Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee." Pyr. "I see a voice: now will I to the chink, "To an spy I can hear my Thisby's face. Thisby! This. "My love! thou art my love, I think." Pyr. "Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace; "And like Limander am I trusty still." This." And I like Helen, till the fates me kill." This. "I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all." Pyr." Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?" This. "Tide life, tide death, I come without delay." Wall. "Thus have I, wall, my part discharged 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 best 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 men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion. Enter Lion and Moon-shine. Lion. “You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear [floor, "The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, "When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. 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'th'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. Enter Thisbe. This. "This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?" Lion." Oh-." (The Lion roars.-Thisbe runs off.) Dem. Well roared, lion. The. Well run, Thisbe. Ay, that left pap, "The pap of Pyramus: 66 "Where heart doth hop:- "Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. My soul is in the sky: 64 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, màn; for he is dead; he is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass. gone, before Hip. How chance moon-shine Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. 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 played 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, As much as we this night have overwatch'd. This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd The heavy gait of night.-Sweet friends, to bed. SCENE II. Enter PUCK. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, That the graves, all gaping wide, By the triple Hecat's team, Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their train. Hop as light as bird from brier; Sing, and dance it trippingly. SONG, AND DANCE. Obe. Now, until the break of day, And the blots of nature's hand Shall upon their children be.With field-dew consecrate, Every fairy take his gait; And each several chamber bless, Through this palace with sweet peace: [Exeunt Oberon, Titania and train. Puck. If we shadows have offended, Think but this, (and all is mended,) Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, Else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. [Exeunt. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. [Exit. ACT I. SCENE I.-Navarre. A Park with a Palace in it. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names; To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die; Biron. I can but say the protestation over. King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please; I only swore, to study with your grace, Aud stay here in your court for three years' space. Long. You swore to that, Birón, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest.What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. [common sense? Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so, To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus,-To study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or, study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid: |