"TIS strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak The. of. More strange than true: I never may believe These antic fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, More than cool reason ever comprehends. Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast Hell can hold; Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Such tricks hath strong imagination, Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And grows to something of great constancy, The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA. Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love Lys. More than to us Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed! The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours, Philostratc. Here, mighty Theseus. The. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What mask? what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with some delight? Philost. There is a brief how many, sports are ripe; Make choice of which your highness will see first. [Giving a paper. Lys. [Reads.] "The Battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp." The. We'll none of that: that have I told my love, In glory of my kinsman Hercules. Lys. "The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage." The. That is an old device; and it was play'd When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. Lys. "The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary." The. That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. Lys. "A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, And his love Thisbe: very tragical mirth." The. Merry and tragical! Tedious and brief! Which is as brief as I have known a play; The. What are they that do play it? Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never labour'd in their minds till now; The. And we will hear it. Philost. No, my noble lord; It is not for you: I have heard it over, Unless you can find sport in their intents, To do you service. The. I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, 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. 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 Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, Enter PHILOSTRATE. Philost. So please your Grace, the Prologue is address'd. The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. Prol. Enter QUINCE as the Prologue. "If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good-will. To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then, we come but in despite. We do not come Our true intent is. you, as minding to content you, That you should here repent The actors are at hand; and, by their shew, You shall know all, that you are like to know." 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 play'd on his prologue like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government. The. His speech was like a tangled chain, Enter, with a Trumpet and the Presenter before them, PYRAMUS and THISBE, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show. Presenter. "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; |