? Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face; Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me: O then, what graces in my love do dwell, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: Her. And in the wood, where often you and I [Exit Lys. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; [Exit. Enter SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, QUINCE, and Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding-day at night. Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point. Quin. Marry, our play is — The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves Quin. Answer, as I call you.- Nick Bottom, the ramus. Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love. Bot. That will ask some tears in the true per forming of it: If I do it, let the audience look t their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole i some measure. To the rest :- - Yet my chief humou is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a par to tear a cat in, to make all split. Fis. What is Thisby? a wandering knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming. Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice;- Thisne, Thisne,-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear! and lady dear! Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus, and, Flute, you Thisby. Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Star. Here, Peter Quince. Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely, gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs play Pyramus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your pur mother. - Tom Snout, the tinker. Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part : — and, I hope, here is a play fitted. Sang. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but rearing. Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, Let him roar again, Let him roar again. Quin. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all. 4. That would hang us every mother's son. SCENE I. - A Wood near Athens. ple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced.-But, masters; here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by tomorrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light; there will we rehearse for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not. Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough; Hold, or cut bow-strings. [Exeunt. ACT II. Enter a Fairy at one door, and PUCK at another. Thorough bush, thorough briar, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, In those freckles live their savours: Take heed, the queen come not within his sight. And now they never meet in grove, or green, Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite, Puck. Thou speak'st aright; And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe; And waxen in their mirth, and neeze and swear SCENE II. Tita. Set your heart at rest, The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a vot'ress of my order: 'Would that he And, in the spiced Indian air, by night, Full often hath she gossip'd by my side; And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, Marking the embarked traders on the flood; When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive, And grow big-bellied, with the wanton wind: Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait, Following (her womb, then rich with my young squire,) Enter OBERON, at one door, with his train, and TITANIA, at another, with hers. Obe. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania. Tita. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence; I have forsworn his bed and company. Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord? Tita. Then I must be thy lady: But I know When thou hast stol'n away from fairy land, And in the shape of Corin sat all day, Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, Come from the farthest steep of India? But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love, To Theseus must be wedded; and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity. Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night And make him with fair Æglé break his faith, Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy : Obe. Do you amend it then: it lies in you: Would imitate; and sail upon the land, Obe. How long within this wood intend you stay? [Exeunt TITANIA and her train. Obe. Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this Obe. That very time I saw, (but thou could'st not,) At a fair vestal, throned by the west; In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before, milk-white; now purple with love's wound,- Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once; Obe. Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, And drop the liquor of it in her eyes: The next thing then she waking looks upon, (Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,) She shall pursue it with the soul of love. And ere I take this charm off from her sight, (As I can take it, with another herb,) I'll make her render up her page to me. But who comes here? I am invisible; Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him. Hd. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant ; Is true as steel: Leave you your power to draw, De Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick, when I do look on thee. Hel. And I am sick, when I look not on you. Hel. Your virtue is my privilege for that. Dem. I'll run from thee, and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. Hd. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd; Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger: Bootless speed! When cowardice pursues, and valour flies. Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. Hei. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fye, Demetrius ! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do : We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. Ill follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. [Exeunt DEM. and HEL. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fy him, and he shall seek thy love. — I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove : With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes; By the Athenian garments he hath on. SCENE III. Another part of the Wood, Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA. Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And to speak troth, I have forgot our way; We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Her. Be it so, Lysander, find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head. Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth. Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Love takes the meaning, in love's conference. I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit; So that but one heart we can make of it: Two bosoms interchained with an oath; So then, two bosoms, and a single troth. Then, by your side no bed-room me deny; For, lying so, Hermia, I do not lie. Her. Lysander riddles very prettily: Lys. Amen, Amen, to that fair prayer, say I; And then end life, when I end loyalty! Here is my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest! Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd! [They sleep. Enter PUCK. Puck. Through the forest have I gone, And here the maiden, sleeping sound, All the power this charm doth owe: For I must now to Oberon. [Exit. Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Deme trius. Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [Erit DEMETRIUS. Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, whereso'er she lies; For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears: If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; Lys. And run through fire I will, for thy sweet sake. [Waking. Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art, Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Is that vile name, to perish on my sword? Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though? Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. Who will not change a raven for a dove? Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn? Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, But fare you well: perforce I must confess, [Ezit. Lys. She sees not Hermia: - Hermia, sleep thou there; And never may'st thou come Lysander near! The deepest loathing to the stomach brings; Or, as the heresies, that men do leave, Are hated most of those they did deceive; So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy, To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! No? then I well perceive you are not nigh Either death, or you, I'll find immediately. |