Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail. [Touching her eyes with an herb. See, as thou wast wont to see: Hath such force and blessed power. Tita. How came these things to pass? Titania, music call; and strike more dead Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep. Obe. Sound, music. [Still music.] Come, my I do hear the morning lark. Trip we after the night's shade: Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and Train. For now our observation is performed; Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, Thes. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-kneed, and dew-lapped like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells, Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; Thes. 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. Thes. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. Horns and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? Thes. [He and the rest kneel to THESEUS. I know, you are two rival enemies; Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, 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.- Thereby to have defeated you and me : Of this their purpose hither, to this wood; Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power Thes. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: [Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and Train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turnéd into clouds. 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 bellowsmender! 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? Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported. 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 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 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 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 everything, 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 ribands 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 lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions, 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 words; away; go away. [Exeunt. Thes. More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and Thes. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love, Accompany your hearts! A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, Thes. Merry and tragical? tedious and brief? That is, hot ice, and wondrous 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; Thes. What are they that do play it? Athens here, For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies. [Exit PHILOSTRATE. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged, And duty in his service perishing. Thes. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Hip. He says they can do nothing in this kind. Thes. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. 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 addrest. Thes. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. Enter PROLOGUE. PROLOGUE. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To shew 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. Thes. 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. Thes. 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. PROLOGUE. 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 roughcast, 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 lanthorn, 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 broached 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 PROLOGUE, THISBE, LION, and MOONSHINE. Thes. 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: This lime, this roughcast, and this stone, doth shew Thes. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord. Thes. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence! |