Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, [Exeunt Dem. and Hel. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter Puck. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes, do it, when the next thing he espies So. SCENE III.—Another part of the wood. 1 Fai. Hence, away; now all is well! [Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps. Obe. What thou seest, when thou dost wake, near. Enter Lysander and Hermia. [Exit. Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And to speak truth, I have forgot our way; We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Her. Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head. Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence; Her. Lysander riddles very prettily:- Such separation, as, may well be said, Enter Puck. And here the maiden, sleeping sound, (1) By. (2) The greater cowslip. (3) Vigorous. (7) Efts. (8) Slow-worms. (9) The small tiger, (4) A kind of dance, (5) Bats, 70) Sports. (10) Possess, T When thou wak'st, let love forbid Enter Demetrius and Helena, running. Her. [Starting.] Help me, Lysander, help me. To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Hel. O, wilt thou darkling' leave me? do not so. For beasts that meet me, run away for fear: sake. Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent Who will not change a raven for a dove? Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency? ACT III. SCENE I-The same. The queen of fairies lying asleep. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. Bot. Are we all met? Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal: this green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke. Bot. Peter Quince, Quin. What say'st thou, bully Bottom? Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that? Snout. By'rlakin,' 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. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords: and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better assurance, tell them, that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear. Quin. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six. Bol. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight. Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? Star. I fear it, I promise you. Bol. Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it. Snout. Therefore, another prologue must tell he Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, is not a lion. [Exit. Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,-Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat 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 such 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 shall be so. But there is two hard things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light. Snug. Doth the moon shine, that night we play our play? (3) By our ladykin, (4) Dangerous. (5) Terrible, L Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine. Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night. Bot. Why, then you may leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement. 147 Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me afeard.4 Re-enter Snout. Snout. O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee? Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head Re-enter Quince. Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to dis-of your own; Do you? figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk through the chinks of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall.-What say you, Bottom? translated. Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art [Exit. Bot. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hear I am not afraid. hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper. Quin. If that may be, then all is well: Come, sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake,' and so every one according to his cue. Enter Puck behind. Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swag- So near the cradle of the fairy queen? Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth. Quin. Odours, odours. Pyr. Odours savours sweet: So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.- And by and by I will to thee appear. Exit. This. Must I speak now? The ousel-cock, so black of hue, The throstle with his note so true, [Sings. Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? Bot. [Waking. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, And dares not answer, nay ; for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again: Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days: [Aside.-Exit. the more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek," upon Quin. Ay, marry, must you: for you must un-occasion. derstand, he goes but to see a noise that he heard, Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine and is to come again. This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, own turn. Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go; am a spirit, of no common rate; Of colour like the red-rose on triumphant brier, Most briskly juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,I Pll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus; you Quin. Ninus tomb, man: why you must not speak all your part at once, cues and all.-Pyramus enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire. Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head. This. O,-As true as truest horse, that yet would never lire. Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine: Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, The summer still doth tend upon my state, 1 Fai. Ready. 3 Fai. And I. And I. Fai. (3) The last words of the preceding speech, (4) Afraid. (5) The cuckoo, with his uniform note, which serve as a hint to him who is to speak next. (6) Joke. (7) Gooseberries, To have my love to bed, and to arise; 2 Fai. Hail! 3 Fai. Hail! 4 Fai. Hail! I led them on in this distracted fear, Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. Puck. I took him sleeping,-that is finish'd ton Bot. I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.-I And the Athenian woman by his side; beseech, your worship's name. Cob. Cobweb. Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentleman? Peas, Peas-blossom. Bot. I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash,| your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire of you more acquaintance too.-Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustard-seed. That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd Enter Demetrius and Hermia. Obe. Stand close; this is the same Athenian. worse; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, patience well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-And kill me too. beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your The sun was not so true unto the day, Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon, [Exeunt. Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, SCENE II. Another part of the wood. Enter As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Oberon. Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak'd; Enter Puck. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. Anon, his Thisbe must be answered, Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me ? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me pust the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Her. A privilege, never to see me more. And forth my mimic' comes: when they him spy, And from thy hated presence part I so: As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Eril vein : And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight: (6) Infected. (7) Exploit. (8) Mistaken Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; that one man ing troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. hold-When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts. Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, And Helena of Athens look thou find : All fancy-sick' she is, and pale of cheer2 With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear: Would so offend a virgin; and extort By some illusion see thou bring her here; Re-enter Puck Puck. Captain of our fai y band, Shall we their fond pagean sce? Obe. Stand aside: the no se they make, Will cause Demetrius to awake. [Exit. Puck. Then will two at once, woo one; Enter Lysander and Helena. Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true? Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more. Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, (3) Heartily. (4) Degree. (5) Pay dearly for it.' A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know: And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia's love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do to my death. Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none; If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart with her, but as guestwise, sojourn'd; Lys. Helen, it is not so. Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know Lest, to thy perif, thou aby it dear."— Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. Enter Hermia. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go? Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him 'bide, Fair Helena; who more engilds the night The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: (6) Circles. (7) Ingenious. (8) Needles. |