Do (as a monfter) fly my prefence thus. Lyf. And run thro' fire I will for thy fweet fake. [Waking. Hel. Do not fay fo, Lyfander, fay not fo; Who will not change a raven for a dove? Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mock'ry born? Good troth you do me wrong, good footh you do, But fare you well. Perforce I must confefs, I thought you lord of more true gentleness; Oh, that a lady of one man refus'd,» Should of another therefore be abus'd! [Exit. Lyf. She fees not Hermia; Hermia fleep thou there,.. And never may'st thou come Lyfander near; For For as a furfeit of the sweetest things Her. Help me, Lyfander, help me, do thy beft [Exit. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. The Wood. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt and Starveling. The Queen of Fairies lying afleep. Bot. we all met? •ARE w Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous con venient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hauthorn-brake our tyring house, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke. Bot. Peter Quince! Quin. What fay'ft thou, bully Bottom? Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never pleafe. Firft, Pyramus muft draw a fword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot abide. How anfwer you that? Snowt. By'rlaken, a parlous fear! Star. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done. Bot. Not a whit, I have a device to make all well; VOL. I. I write write me a prologue, and let the prologue feem to say, will do no harm with our fwords, and that Pyramus isot kill'd indeed; and for more better affurance tell them, th IPyramus am not Pyramus but Bottom the weaver; this w put them out of fear. Quin. Well, we will have fuch a prologue, and it fall be written in eight and fix. Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight, Snowt. Will not the ladies be afraid of the lion? Bot. Mafters, you ought to confider with your felves to bring in, God fhield us, a lion among ladies, is a mot dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fow! than your lion living; and we ought to look to it. Snowt. Therefore another prologue muft tell he is not a lion. Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck, and he himself mult fpeak through, faying thus or to the fame defect; ladies, or fair ladies, I would with you, or I would request you, or I would intreat 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 fuch 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 fhall be fo; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the moon-light, into a chamber; for you know Pyramus and Thifty meet by moon-light. Snug. Doth the moon fhine that night we play our play? Bot. A kalendar, a kalendar! look in the almanack; find out moon-fhine, find out moon-shine. Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night. Bot. Why then may you leave a cafement of the great chamber window, where we play, open, and the moon may fhine in at the cafement. Quin. Ay, or elfe one must come in with a bufh of thorns and a lanthorn, and fay he comes to disfigure or to prefent the perfon of Moon-thine. Then there is another thing, we must have a wall in the great chamber, for Pyramus Pyramus and Thilby (says the story) did talk through the chink of a wall. Snug. You can never bring in a wall. What fay you, Bottem? Bot. Some man or other must present Wall, and let him have fome plafter, or some lome, or fome roughcaft about him, to fignify wall: Or let him hold his fingers thus; and through the cranny shall Pyramus and Thify whifper. Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit down every mother's fon, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin; when you have spoken your fpeech, enter into that brake, and fo every one according to his cue. SCENE II. Enter Puck Puck. What hempen home-fpuns have we fwaggering here, So near the cradle of the fairy Queen? What, a play tow'rd? I'll be an auditor; An actor too perhaps, if I fee caufe. Quin. Speak, Pyramus; Thifty, ftand forth. Pyr. Thisby, the flower of odious favours sweet, Pyr. Odours favours sweet, So doth thy breath, my deareft Thisby dear: But hark, a voice! ftay thou but here a whit, And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit Pyr. Puck. A ftranger Pyramus than e'er plaid here! [Afide, Thif. Muft I fpeak now? Quin. Ay marry muft you; for you must understand he goes but to fee a noife that he heard, and is to come again. Thif. Moft radiant Pyramus, moft lilly-white of hue, Of colour like the red rofe on triumphant bryer, Maft brifkly Juvenile, and eke most lovely Jew, As true as trueft horse, that yet would never tire, I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. Quin. Ninus' tomb, man? why, you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus; you fpeak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus, enter, your cue is paft; it is never tire. Tbif. O, as true as trueft horse, that yet would never tire. I 2 Re-enter Re-enter Bottom with an Afs's head. Pyr. If I were fair, Thifty, I were only thine. Quin. O monstrous! Oftrange! we are haunted; pray, mafters, fly, mafters, help. [The Clowns exeunt. Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, throughbryer; Sometimes a horfe I'll be, fometimes a hound, A hog, a headless bear, fometime a fire, '' And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, Like horfe, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [Exit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard. Enter Snowt. Snowt. O Bottom, thou art chang'd; what do I fee on thee? Bot. What do you fee? you fee an afs-head of your own, do you? i Enter Quince. Quin. Blefs thee, Bottom, blefs thee, thou art tranflated. [Exit. Bot. I fee their knavery, this is to make an afs of me, to fright me if they could; but I will not ftir from this place, do what they can; I will walk up and down here, and I will fing, that they fhall hear I am not afraid. [Sings. The Oufel cock, fo black of hue, With orange-tawny bill, The throftle with his note fo true, Queen. What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? Bot. The finch, the fparrow, and the lark, The plain-fong cuckow gray, Whofe note full many a man doth mark, And dares not anfwer nay. [Waking [Sings. For indeed, who would fet his wit to fo foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lie, tho' he cry cuckow never fo? Queen. I pray thee, gentle mortal, fing again, Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, So is mine eye enthralled to thy fhape, Ani |