Then let vs teach our triall patience, Because it is a customary croffe, As due to loue, as thoughts, and dreames, and fighes, Lys. A good perfwafion; therefore heare me, Hermia : I have a widow ant, a dowager, Of great reuenew, and she hath no childe, Her. My good Lyfander,: I fweare to thee, by Cupids strongest bow, By that which knitteth foules, and profpers * loue, Lyf. Keepe promife loue, looke here comes Helena. Enter Helena. Her. God fpeede fair Helena, whither away? *Loves. Deme Demetrius loues your faire: O happy faire ! When wheate is greene, when hauthorne buds appeare, Your words I catch, faire Hermia ere I goe, My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your eye, O teach me how you looke, and with what art, Her. I frowne vpon him, yet he loues me ftill. Hel. O that my prayers could fuch affection mooue, Her. His folly, Helena * is none of mine. Hel. None but your beauty, wold that fault were mine. Her. Take comfort: he no more fhall fee my face, Lyfander and my felfe will fly this place, Before the time I did Lyfander fee, Lyf. Helen, to you our mindes we will ynfold, *Is no fault. ↑ As a. † Unto a bell. Empty Emptying our bofomes, of their counfell fweld, Keepe word Lyfander we must starue our fight, Lyf. I will my Hermia. Helena adieu. As you on him, Demetrius dote on you. Hel. How happy fome, ore otherfome can be? Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity, Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde, Wings, and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haste. He haild downe oathes that he was onely mine. * And when his haile, fome heate from Hermia felt, So he diffolu'd, and fhowres of oathes did melt, I will go tell him of faire Hermias flight: If I haue thanks, it is a deare expence : This. Exit Lyf. But But heerein meane I to enrich my paine, Exit. Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Joyner, Bottome the Weauer, Flute the Bellows-mender, Spout the Tinker, and Starueling the Taylor. Quin. Is all our company heere? Bot. You were beft to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrippe. Quin. Here is the fcrowle of euery mans name, which is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our enterlude, before the duke and the dutches, on his wedding day at night. Bot. First good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats on : then read the names of the actors and fo grow to a point. Quin. Marry our play is the moft lamentable comedy, and moft cruell death of Pyramus and Thifbie. Bot. A very good peece of worke, I affure you, and a merry. Now good Peter Quince, call foorth your actors by the fcrowle. Masters spread your felues. Quin. Answer as I call you. Nick Bottome the weauer. Bot. Ready; name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You Nick Bottome are fet downe for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus, a louer, or a tyrant? Quin. A louer that kils himselfe moft gallant, for loue. Bot. That will afke fome teares in the true perfourming of it, if I doe it, let the audience looke to their eyes: I will moue ftormes; I will condole in fome measure. To the reft yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to teare a cat in, to make all split the raging rocks; and fhiuering fhocks fhall breake the locks of prison gates, and Phibbus carre fhall fhine from farre, and make and marre the foolish Fates. This was lofty. Now name the reft of the players. This is Ercles vaine, a tyrants vaine: a louer is more condoling. 1 Quin. Francis Flute the bellowes-mender. Quin. You must take Thisby on you. Flu. What is Thisby? a wandring knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must loue. (coming. Flu. Nay faith, let not me play a woman, I haue a beard Quin. That's al one, you shal play it in a maske, and you may fpeake as fmall as you will. Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thiby to: Ile fpeake in a monftrous little voyce; Thifne, Thifne, ah Pyramus my louer deare, thy Thifty deare, and lady deare. Quin. No no, you must play Pyramus and Flute, you Thisby. Quin. Robin Starueling the tailor. Star. Heere Peter Quince. Quid. Robin Starueling, you must play Thifbies mother: Tom Snowt, the tinker. Snowt. Here Peter Quince. Quin. You, Pyramus father; my felfe, Thifbies father; Snugge the ioyner, you the lyons part: and I hope here is a play fitted. Snug. Haue you the lyons part written? pray you if it be, giue it me, for I am flowe of ftudy. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. Bot. Let me play the lyon too, I will roare, that I will do any mans heart good to heare me. I will roare, that I will make the duke fay, let him roare again, let him roare againe. Quin. * If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the dutcheffe and the ladies, that they should shrike, and that were enough to hang vs all. All. That would hang vs euery mothers fonne. Bot. I grant you friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would haue no more difcretion but Ane to |