Thou shalt aby it. Dem. Follow? nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by Her. You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you: Nay, go not back. Hel. I will not trust you, I; Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray; My legs are longer though, to run away. Her. I am amaz'd, and know not what to say. [Exit. Here comes one. Enter Lysander. Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now. Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou? Lys. I will be with thee straight. To plainer ground. Dem. Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Follow me then [Exit Lys. as following the voice. Enter Demetrius. Lysander! speak again. Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak. In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head? Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, And wilt not come ? Come, recreant; come, thou child; I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight: That draws a sword on thee. As this their jangling I esteem a sport. Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog, as black as Acheron: Dem. Yea; art thou there? Puck. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here. [Exeunt. Re-enter Lysander. Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on; When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter heel'd than I: I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day! [Lies down. For it but once thou show me thy gray light, I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps. Re-enter Puck and Demetrius. Puck. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot, With league, whose date till death shall never end. Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place; Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy; For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all, [Exit Oberon. Puck. Up and down, up and down; I will lead them up and down: I am fear'd in field and town; (1) Happen. (2) Medicinal efficacy. (3) Go. And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou? Puck. Thou shalt Come hither; I am here. Dem. Nay, then thou mock'st me. buy this dear, Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me By day's approach look to be visited. [Lies down and sleeps. Enter Helena. Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours: shine, comforts, from the east; That I may back to Athens, by day-light, From these that my poor company detest:And, sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me a while from mine own company. [Sleeps. Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds makes up four. Here she comes, curst and sad :Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Enter Hermia. Her. Never so weary, never so in wo, I can no further crawl, no further go; (4) Cephalus, the paramour of Aurora. Sleep sound: I'll apply To your eye, Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye. Thou tak'st True delight In the sight Of thy former lady's eye: And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, The man shall have his mare again, and all shall ACT IV. sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For meeting her of late, behind the wood, SCENE I.-The same. Enter Titania and Bot-This hateful imperfection of her eyes. Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, And stick musk-roses in thy sleck smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. Bot. Where's Peas-blossom? Peas. Ready. Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.-Where's monsieur Cobweb? Cob. Ready. And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp [Touching her eyes with an herb. Bot. Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hip-Now, ped humbie-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey bag, signior.-Where's monsieur Mustardseed? Must. Ready. Bot. Give me your neif,2 monsieur Mustard-seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. Must. What's your will? Bol. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's,! monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I inust scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones. Tita. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great! desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful, or two, of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. (2) Fist. (1) Stroke. Tita. How came these things to pass? Obe. Sound, music. [Still music.] Come, my Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark; Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad, Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train. For now our observation is perform'd: Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, So flew'd,' so sanded; and their heads are hung Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep: The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice? Ege. It is, my lord. The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. Horns, and shout within. Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia, and Helena, wake and start up. The. Good-morrow, friends. St. Valentine is past; Berin these wood-birds but to couple now? Lys. Pardon, my lord. [Ile and the rest kneel to Theseus. The. I pray you all, stand up. I know, you are two rival enemies: How comes this gentle concord in the world, That hatred is so far from jealousy, To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity? Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half 'sleep, half waking: But as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here: But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,And now I do bethink me, so it is ;) I came with Hermia hither; our intent Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be Without the peril of the Athenian law. Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough; I beg the law, the law, upon his head.They would have stal'n away, they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me: You, of your wife; and me of my consent; Of my consent that she should be your wife. Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither, to this wood; And I in fury hither follow'd them; Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power (But by some power it is,) my love to Hermia, (1) Forepart. (2) Sound. (3) The flews are the large chaps of a hound. 'Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: [Exeunt The. Hyp. Ege, and train. Dem. These things seem small, and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. Hel. Dem. Her. Yea: and my father. 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. [Exe. 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 call 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. A room in Quince's Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and SCENE II.-Athens. all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he. 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 nought. Enter Snug. Snug. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladics 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, tha: plays the lion, pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lions claws. And, most dear actors, eat 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, [Exeunt. away. ACT V. SCENE I.-The same. An apartment in the The. More strange than true. I never may believe One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Such tricks hath strong imagination; (1) Are made of mere imagination. (2) Stability. Pastime. (4) Short account. That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or, in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear! Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigur'd so together, More witnesseth than fancy's images, And grows to something of great constancy ;* But, howsoever, strange, and admirable. Enter Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena. 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, 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. [Giving a paper. The. [Reads.] The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. The riot of the tipsy Bacchana's, A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, And his love Thisbe: very tragical mirth. Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief? That is, hot ice, and wonderous 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: For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which never labour'd in their minds till now; No, my noble lord, (5) Unexercised. Unless you can find sport in their intents, Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Enter Philostrate. Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is The. Let him approach. [Flourish of rumpets. Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will. We do not come as minding to content you, We are not here. That you should here repent 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? Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, 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, 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 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, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain, 'At large discourse, while here they do remain.' [Exeunt Prol. 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 Thisby, 'Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: 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 prim-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!- Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, eyne. this! 'But what see I? No Thisby do I sec. 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. |