« AnteriorContinua »
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love,—
Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face; Lysander and myself will fly this place.Before the time I did Lysander see,
Seemed Athens like a paradise to me.
Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold.
Her. And in the wood, where often you and I
Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu. As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!
1 i. e. changed, transformed.
Hel. How happy some o'er other some can be!
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
SCENE II. The same. A Room in a Cottage.
Enter SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, QUINCE, and STARVELING.
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 on to a point.1
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 weaver.
Bot. Ready. Name what part I am for, and pro
Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. 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 performing of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest.-Yet my chief humor is for a tyrant; I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
"The raging rocks,
Of prison gates;
This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players -This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling.
Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Quin. You must take Thisby on you.
1 Grow on to a point. This is the reading of the first folio, and is probably a misprint for go on to appoint, i. e. appoint the actors to their several parts.
Flu. 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.
Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.-Tom Snout, the tinker.
Snout. Here, Peter Quince.
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.
Snug. 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 roaring.
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 shrick; and that were enough to hang us all.
All. That would hang us every mother's son.
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, gentlemanlike 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-colored beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color 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 to-morrow 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 dogged with company, and our devices known. In the mean time, I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. 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.
SCENE I. A Wood near Athens.
Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck at another.
Thorough bush, thorough briar,
1 To meet whether bowstrings hold or are cut is to meet in all events. But the origin of the phrase has not been satisfactorily explained.