SCENE I-Athens. A Room in the Palace of Er THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and The. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; The. Enter EGEUS, HERMIA, Lysander, and DEMETRIUS. The. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint And stol'n the impression of her fantasy heart; Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens; The. What say you, Hermia? be advised, fab Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! To you your father should be as a god; In himself he is: The. Her. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes. In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, The. Take time to pause; and, by the next new moon, (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, For everlasting bond of fellowship,) Upon that day either prepare to die, For disobedience to your father's will; Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would, Or on Diana's altar to protest, For aye, austerity and single life. My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; I must employ you in some business [Exeunt THES., Hip., Ege., DEM., and tran. Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek se How chance the roses there do fade so fast? [pale! Her. Belike, for want of rain; which I could well Beteem' them from the tempest of mine eyes. Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, The course of true love never did run smooth: Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low. Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd Then let us teach our trial patience, As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia;-And, Lysander, Of great revénue, and she hath no child: yield T'hy crazed title to my certain right. Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius : Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And, which is more than all these boasts can be, I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia: Why should not I then prosecute my right? The. I must confess, that I have heard so much, 1 Wicked. [Hermia. I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow; By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves. Enter HELENA. Her. Gd speed fair Helena! Whither away? Hel. Call you me fair? that fair agair. unsay. Demetrius loves you fair: O happy fair! [air Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Bickness is catching; O, were favor' so! Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody. Were the world mine, Demetrins being bated, The rest I'll give to be to you translated. O, teach me how you look; and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. 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, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold! To-morrow night when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,) Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal. Her. And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet; There my Lysander and myself shall meet: And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet play-fellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius ! Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight. [Exit HERM. Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu : Things base and vile, holding no quantity, • Pole stars. •Bport. And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt 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 generaŭy, mar by man, according to the scrip. Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through ali 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 actorsand 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, weaver. Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed. 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, "With shivering shocks, "Shall break the locks "Of prison gates: "And Phibbus' car "And make and mar 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-menter. Quin. You must take Thisby on you. 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;-2 -Thisne, Thisne,-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear: and lady dear! Quin. No, no: you must play Pyran.us, and Flute, you Thisby. Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Starv. Here, Peter Quince. Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day: a most lovely Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs 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 at y 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. 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 ACT SCENE I-A Wood near Athens. Thorough bush, thorough briar, Thorough flood, thorough fire, In those freckles live their savors: Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite, play Framus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What bear 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, you purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colo beard, your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have ne 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 moonlight; 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. II. Skim milk; and sometimes labor in the quern, And bootless make the breathless housewife churn; And sometimes make the drink to bear no barm Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck: Are not you he? Puck. Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a silly foal: And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab;' And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me, Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And tailor cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there.— But room, Fairy, here comes Oberon. Fai. And here my mistress:-'Would that he were gone! SCENE II. Enter OBERON, at one door, with his tran, and TITANIA, at another, with hers. Obe. Ill met by moonlight, 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, • Articles required in performing a play. At all events. A term of contempt. • Yeast. Mill. 1 Wild apple. Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, [night, Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, Or on the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs; which falling in the land, Have every pelting' river made so proud, That they have overborne their continents:" The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat; and the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard: The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrain flock, The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, For lack of tread, are undistinguishable : The human mortals want their winter here; No night is now with hymn or carol blest:Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound: And thorough this distemperature, we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose; And on old Hyems' chin, and icy crown, An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set: The spring, the summer, The childing' autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the 'mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which: And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension; We are their parents and original. Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you: Petty. • Page. As from a voyage, rich with merchandise. Obe. How long within this wood intend you stay. [Exeunt TITANIA, and her train. Obe. Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this Till I torment thee for this injury.- [grove, My gentle Puck, come hither Thou remember st Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music. Puck. I remember. Obe. That very time I saw, but thou could'st not, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: A certain aim he took At a fair vestal, throned by the west; And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts: But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon And the imperial vot'ress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower,- Obe. Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following hɩm. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: Leave you your power to draw And I shall have no power to follow you. Raving mad. |