Tell me how it came this night, [Exeunt. We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction. Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, Judge, when you hear.-But, soft! what nymphs are these? Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; I wonder of their being here together. The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe That Hermia should give answer of her choice? The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. [Horns, and shouts within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, How comes this gentle concord in the world, 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 came with Hermia hither: our intent Ege. Enough, enough! my lord, you have enough. Of this their purpose hither, to this wood; And I in fury hither follow'd them, But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse we more will hear anon.Egeus, I will overbear your will, For in the temple, by and by with us, And, for the morning now is something worn, [Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. Dem. These things seem small, and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double. So methinks: Hel. That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think The duke was here, and bid us follow him? Her. Yea; and my father. Hel. And Hippolyta. 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. [Exeunt.. Bot. [Waking.] 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 patched3 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 the1 play, before the duke: peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at Thisby's 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. 1 Vanward, the fore part. 2 Flew'd, the large chaps of a hound; sanded, their hues. 3 Party-coloured fool. 4a: in f. e. 5 her: in f. e. 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 handycraft 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. 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 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 that plays the lion pare his nails, for Flu. O, sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost they shall hang out for the lion's claws. And, most sixpence a-day during his life; he could not have dear actors, eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are to 'scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given utter sweet breath, and I do not doubt but to hear him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words : hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day away! go; away! [Exeunt. in Pyramus, or nothing. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Hip. 'T is strange, my Theseus, that these lovers The. More strange than true: I never may believe Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philostrate. Here, mighty Theseus. Philost. There is a brief how many sports are ripe; The. [Reads.] "The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp." We'll none of that: that have I told my love, "The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage." That is an old device; and it was play'd Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Hip. But all the story of the night told over, The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Lys. More than to us Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed! [have, "The thrice three Muses mourning for the death "A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. The. What are they, that do play it? 1 strange in f. e. 2 This is the reading of the quartos. In the folio, Lysander reads the "brief," and Theseus comments. The. And we will hear it. Philost. 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: For never any thing 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'ercharg'd, And duty in his service perishing. The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, In least speak most, to my capacity. Enter PHILOSTRATE. Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is addrest.' Enter the PROLOGUE. 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." The. This fellow doth not stand upon his 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 recorder2; a sound, but not in government. The. His speech was like a tangled chain, Nothing impair'd, but all disordered. Who is next? Enter the PRESENTER, PYRAMUS, and THISBE, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show. Pres. "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 lion hight by name, 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 gentle 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 PRES., 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 befal, This lime, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak 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, grim-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.And thou, O wall! O sweet, O lovely wall! That stand'st between her father's ground and mine; Thou wall, O wall! O sweet, and lovely wall ! Show me thy chink to blink through with mine eyne. [Wall holds up his fingers. Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this! But what see I? No Thisby do I see. This. "O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones; This. "My love! thou art my love, I think." ין. This. "And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.” 1 Ready. 2 Flageolet. 3 Not in f. e. 4 This speech is given in f. e. to the Prologue. |