Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter Puck. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes, be the lady: thou shalt know the man SCENE III.—Another part of the wood. wood; And to speak truth, 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; Her. Lysander riddles very prettily: Tila. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song; The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and won- At our quaint spirits: sing me now asleep; Enter Puck. Puck. Through the forest have I gone, And here the maiden, sleeping sound, (1) By. (2) The greater cowslip. (3) Vigorous. (7) Efts. (8) Slow-worms, (9) The small tiger, (4) A kind of dance. (5) Bats. Sports. (10) Possess, T Enter Demetrius and Helena, running. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling1 leave me? do not so. For beasts that meet me, run away for fear: Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: though? Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent Who will not change a raven for a dove? Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? Her. [Starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me a To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! ACT III. SCENE I.-The same. The queen of fairies lying asleep. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. Bot. Are we all met? Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal: this green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke. Bot. Peter Quince, Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom? Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that? Snout. By'rlakin,' a parlous fear. Star. I believe, we inust leave the killing out, when all is done. Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords; and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better assurance, tell them, that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear. Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six. Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight. Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it. Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell he Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, is not a lion. [Exit. And never may'st thou come Lysander near! (1) In the dark. [Exit. (2) By all that is dear. Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: no, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men are:-and there, indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner. Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light. Snug. Doth the moon shine, that night we play our play? (3) By our ladykin, (4) Dangerous. (5) Terrible. Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almahac; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine. Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night. Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me afeard. Re-enter Snout. Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do Ì see on thee? Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head Re-enter Quince. Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to dis-of your own; Do you? figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk through the chinks of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom? translated. Quin. Bless thec, Bottom! bless thee! thou art [Exit. Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hear I am not afraid. hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper. Quin. If that may be, then all is well: Come, sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake,' and so every one according to his cue. Enter Puck behind. Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swag- So near the cradle of the fairy queen? Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth. Quin. Odours, odours. Pyr. -- -Odours savours sweet: And dares not answer, nay ;— for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry, cuckoo, never so? Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again : Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee. Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little Exit. reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! and love keep little company together now-a-days: [Aside.-Exit. the more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek," upon So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.— But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear. This. Must I speak now? Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must un-occasion. derstand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. and is to come again. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, Of colour like the red-rose on triumphant brier, Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head. never tire. Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine :- Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, (1) Thicket. (2) Young man. [Exit. I own turn. Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. And I. And I. 1 Fai. Ready. 2 Fai. 3 Fai. 4 Fai. Where shall we go? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,' With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, (3) The last words of the preceding speech, (4) Afraid. (5) The cuckoo, with his uniform note, which serve as a hint to him who is to speak next. (6) Joke. (7) Gooseberries, To have my love to bed, and to arise; 1 Fai. Hail, mortal! 2 Fai. Hail! 3 Fai. Hail ! 4 Fui. Hail! I led them on in this distracted fear, Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. Puck. I took him sleeping, that is finish'd too, Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I And the Athenian woman by his side; beseech, your worship's name. Cob. Cobweb. Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman? Peas. Peas-blossom. Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash, your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire of you more acquaintance too.-Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustard-seed. That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd. Enter Demetrius and Hermia. Obe. Stand close; this is the same Athenian. Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man. Dem. O why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Bot. Good master Mustard-sced, I know your Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-And kill me too. beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your The sun was not so true unto the day, house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my As he to me: Would he have stol'n away eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaint-From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon, ance, good master Mustard-seed. Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower. The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon [Exeunt. Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the inurderer, look as bright, as clear, SCENE II-Another part of the wood. Enter As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Oberon. Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak'd; Enter Puck. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Her. A privilege, never to see me more. And forth my mimics comes: when they him spy, And from thy hated presence part I so: As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. [Lies down. Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that one man ing troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. hold-When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts. Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, And Helena of Athens look thou find: All fancy-sick' she is, and pale of cheer? With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Would so offend a virgin; and extort Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? But you must join, in souls, to mock me too? To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, (3) Heartily. (4) Degree. (5) Pay dearly for it. A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know: And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia's love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do to my death. Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart with her, but as guestwise, sojourn'd; Helen, it is not so. Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear."— Look, where thy love comics; yonder is thy dear. Enter Hermia. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The car more quick of apprehension makes; Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go? Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him 'bide, Fair Helena; who more engilds the night The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: (6) Circles. (7) Ingenious. (8) Needles. |