By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage. The thrice three Muses mourning for the death A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, long; Which is as brief as I have known a play; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. The. What are they that do play it? here,4 Which never labour'd in their minds till now; The. And we will hear it. 6 No, my noble lord, It is not for you: I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world: Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretch'd, and conn'd with cruel pain, To do you service. The. I will hear that play; 1 Steevens thought, that by abridgment was meant a dramatic performance which crowds the events of years into a few hours. Surely the context seems to require a different explanation; an abridgment appears to mean some pastime to shorten the tedious evening. 2 Short account. 3 This may be an allusion to Spenser's poem: The Tears of the Muses on the Neglect and Contempt of Learning;' first printed in 1591. It is thought that Shakspeare alludes here to certain good hearted men of Coventry,' who petitioned that they mought renew their old storial shew' before the Queen at Kenilworth: where the poet himself may have Deen present, as he was then twelve years old. 5 i. e. unexercised, unpractised. For never any thing can be amiss, The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Hip. He says they can do nothing in this kind. The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for no thing. 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 Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is addrest. The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. Enter Prologue. That Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will. 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, 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;10 a sound, but not in government.11 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 sun der: "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 thorr "Presenteth moon-shine; for, if you will know, "By moon-shine did these lovers think no scorn 6 Intents may be put for the object of their attention To intend and to attend were anciently synonymous, 7 The sense of this passage appears to be :-" What dutifulness tries to perform without ability, regardful ge nerosity receives with complacency; estimating it, not by the actual merit, but according to the power or might of the humble but zealous performers.' "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 vife with bloody mouth did stain: "Anon comes Pyramus, swee 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, moon-shine, wall, and lovers twain, "At large discourse, while here they do remain." [Ereunt 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 This. "I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all." Pyr. "Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?" This. "Tide life, tide death, I come without delay." Wall. "Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so; "And, being done, thus wall away doth go." [Exeunt Wall, PYRAMUS, and THISBE. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.3 Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion. Enter Lion and Moonshine. Lion. "You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear "The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, "May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, "That I am that same wall; the truth is so: The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence! Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with hue "O night, which ever art, when day is not! "O night, night, alack, alack, alack, "I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!"And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, "That stand'st between her father's ground and mine; "Thou wall, wall, O sweet, and lovely wall, eyne. "But what see I? No Thisby do I see. "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. "When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. "For if I should as lion come in strife The. A very gentle beast, and of a good con science Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to present: "Myself the man i'the'moon do seem to be." The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern: How is it else the man i'the moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.♪ Hip. I am aweary of this moon: Would he would change! The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Lys. Proceed, moon. Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn bush, my thorn bush; and this dog my dog. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisbe. Enter THISBE. This. "This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my [The Lion roars.-THISBE runs off. down, were it to exercise this faculty without previous warning. 4 The old copies read, a man, &c. The emendation is by Theobald. 5 An equivoque. Snuff signifies both the cinder of a candle and hasty anger. "Dead, dead? A tomb "Must cover thy sweet eyes. "These lily brows," "This cherry nose, "These yellow cowslip cheeks, "Are gone, are gone: "Lovers, make moan! "His eyes were green as leeks. "O sisters three, "Come, come, to me, "With hands as pale as milk; "Lay them in gore, "Since you have shore "With shears his thread of silk. "Tongue, not a word : "Come, trusty sword; "Come, blade, my breast imbrue : "And farewell, friends ; "Thus Thisby ends: "Adieu, adieu, adieu." [Dres. The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead. Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Burgomask dance, between two of our company? The. No epilogue, I pray you: for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hanged himself with Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask let your epilogue alone. [Here a dance of Clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn, SCENE II. Enter PUCK. And the wolf behowls the moon; [Exeunt. Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. That the graves all gaping wide, By the triple Hecat's team, 1 To mouse, according to Malone, signified to mam-You shall taste him more as a soldier than as a wit mock, to tear in pieces, as a cat tears a mouse. 2 Dr. Farmer thought this was written in ridicule of a passage in Damon and Pythias, by Richard Edwards, 1582: 'Ye furies, all at once And present pangues of death; You sisters three, with cruel hands, With speed come stop my breath.' Thrum is the end or extremity of a weaver's warp. It is used for any collection or tuft of short thread. 4 Destroy. 5 Countenance. 6 The character of Theseus throughout this play is more exalted in its humanity than in its greatness. Though some sensible observations on life and animated descriptions fall from him, as it is said of Iago,| though with little success; as in support of his preten which is a distinction he is here striving to deserve, sions he never rises higher than a pun, and frequently sinks as low as a quibble. 7 The old copies read means, which had anciently the same signification as moans. Theobald made the alteration. 8 The old copies read lips instead of brows. The alteration was made for the sake of the rhyme by Theobald. 9 A rustic dance framed in imitation of the people of Bergamasco (a province in the state of Venice,) who are ridiculed as being more clownish in their manners and dialect than any other people of Italy. The lingua rustica of the buffoons, in the old kalian comedies, is an imitation of their jargon. 10 i. e. slow passage, progress. 11 Overcome. Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their Train. Hop as light as bird from brier; Sing and dance it trippingly. Tita. First, rehearse this song by rote: SONG AND DANCE. Obe. Now, until the break of day, Shall upon their children be.- And each several chamber bless," 1 Cleanliness is always necessary to invite the residence or favour of the Fairies. 2 Milton perhaps had this picture in his thoughts: And glowing embers through the room Teach night to counterfeit a gloom.' 3 This ceremony was in old times used at all marriages. Mr. Douce has given the formula from the Manual for the use of Salisbury. We may observe on this strange ceremony, that the purity of modern times stands not in need of these holy aspersions to lull the senses and dissipate the illusions of the devil. The Trip away; Make no stay; Meet me all by break of day [Exeunt ORERON, TITANIA, and Train Puck. If we shadows have offended, So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, WILD and fantastical as this play is, all the parts in their various modes are well written, and give the kind of pleasure which the author designed. Fairies in his time were much in fashion; common tradition had made them familiar, and Spenser's poem had made them great. JOHNSON. JOHNSON'S concluding observations on this play are not conceived with his usual judgment. There is no analogy or resemblance between the Fairies of Spenser and those of Shakspeare. The Fairies of Spenser, as appears from his description of them in the second book of the Faerie Queene, canto x. were a race of mortals created by Prometheus, of the human size, shape, and affections, and subject to death. But those of Shakspeare, and of common tradition, as Johnson calls them, were a diminutive race of sportful beings, endowed with immortality and supernatural powers, totally different from those of Spenser. M. MASON. married couple would no doubt rejoice when the benediction was ended. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. PRELIMINARY REMARKS. THE novel upon which this comedy was founded has hitherto eluded the research of the commentators. Mr. Douce thinks it will prove to be of French extraction. The Dramat:s Personæ in a great measure demonstrate this, as well as a palpable Gallicism in Act iv. Sc. 1: viz. the terming a letter a capon.' This is one of Shakspeare's early plays, and the author's youth is certainly perceivable, not only in the style and manner of the versification, but in the lavish superfluity displayed in the execution: the uninterrupted succession of quibbles, equivoques, and sallies of every description. The sparks of wit fly about in such profusion that they form complete fireworks, and the dialogue for the most part resembles the bustling collision and banter of passing masks at a carnival.'* The scene in which the king and his companions detect each other's breach of their mutual vow, is capitally contrived. The discovery of Biron's love-letter while rallying his friends, and the manner in which he extricates himself, by ridiculing the folly of the vow, are admirable. * Schlegel. The grotesque characters, Don Adrian de Armado, Nathaniel the curate, and Holofernes, that prince of pedants, with the humours of Costard the clown, are well contrasted with the sprightly wit of the principal_characters in the play. It has been observed that 'Biron and Rosaline suffer much in comparison with Benedick and Beatrice,' and it must be confessed that there is some justice in the observation. Yet Biron, 'that merry mad-cap Lord,' is not overrated in Rosaline's admirable character of him-A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal: His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ;So sweet and voluble is his discourse.' Shakspeare has only shown the inexhaustible powers of his mind in improving on the admirable originals of his own creation in a more mature age. Malone placed the composition of this play first m 1591, afterwards in 1594. Dr. Drake thinks we may safely assign it to the earlier period. The first edition was printed in 1598. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Therefore, brave conquerors!-for so you are, Biron. I can but say their protestation over, 1 Beroune in all the old editions. King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from I only swore, to study with your grace, Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense? King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so, To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus-To study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or, study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid: Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, Study to break it, and not break my troth. If study's gain be thus, and this be so, Study knows that, which yet it doth not know. Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say, no. King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight. Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain: To seek the light of truth: while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.* Study me how to please the eye indeed, By fixing it upon a fairer eye; Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, And give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are. Too much to know, is, to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! 5 The meaning is; that when he dazzles, that is, has 2 i. e. with all these companions. He may be sup- his eye made weak, by fixing his eye upon a fairer eye, posed to point to the king, Biron, &c. 3 Dishonestly, treacherously. 4 The whole sense of this gingling declamation is only this, that a man by too close study may read him self blind. that fairer eye shall be his heed or guide, his lode-star, and give him light that was blinded by it. 6 That is, too much knowledge gives no real solution of doubts, but merely fame, or a name, a thing which every godfather can give. |