voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove: I will roar an 'twere any nightingale. Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a sweet-fac'd man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day, a most lovely, gentlemanlike man; therefore, you must needs play Pyr amus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour'd beard — your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But, Masters, here are your parts; and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night, and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light: there we will rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the Duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough; hold, or cut bow-strings. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. A Wood near Athens. Enter a Fairy and Рuck from opposite sides. Ho PUCK. OW now, spirit! whither wander you? Thorough bush, thorough brier, Thorough flood, thorough fire, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dew-drops here, Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to-night. Take heed the Queen come not within his sight; For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, Because that she, as her attendant, hath Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy: Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Puck. Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal: And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab; And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale. The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum; down topples she, And tailor' cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole quire hold their hips, and laugh, And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there. But room, Fairy: here comes Oberon. Fai. And here my mistress. Would that he were gone! Enter OBERON, from one side, with his Train, and Oberon. Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. hence : I have forsworn his bed and company. Obe. Tarry, rash wanton. Fairies, skip Am not I thy lord? Tita. Then, I must be thy lady; but I know Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night From Perigouna, whom he ravished? And make him with fair Ægle break his faith, Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, Have every petty river made so proud, That they have overborne their continents: The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, From our debate, from our dissension: Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you. I do but beg a little changeling boy, To be my henchman. Tita. Set your heart at rest: The Fairy-land buys not the child of me. |