Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind;
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy hafte.
And therefore is love faid to be a child,
Because in choice he often is beguil'd.
As waggisk boys themselves in game forswear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where.
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;
And when this hail fome heat from Hermia felt,
So he diffolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expence.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his fight thither, and back again.

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt, and

Quin. I

Starveling.

Sall our company here?
Bot. You were best to call them generally

man by man, according to the scrip.

Quin. Here is the scrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our enterlude before the Duke and Dutchefs, on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and fo grow on to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot, A very good piece of work I affure you, and merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your actors

actors by the scrowl. Masters spread your selves.
Quin. Anfwer as I call you. Nick Bottom the weaver.
Bot. Ready: name what part I am for, and proceed.
Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus.
Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant?
Quin. A lover that kills himself most gallantly for
love.

Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it; if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms; I will condole in fome measure. To the rest yer, my chief humour is for a tyrant; I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in. To make all split the raging rocks, and shivering shocks shall break the locks of prifon-gates-and Phibbus carr shall shine from far, and make and mar the foolish fates This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players, This is Ercles vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute the bellows-mender..

Flu. Here Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.
Flu. What is Thisby, a wand'ring Knight?
Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
Flu. Nay faith let not me play a woman, I have a

beard coming.

Quin. That's all one, you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.

P. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too; I'll fpeak in a monftrous little voice, Thisne Thisne; ah Pyramus my lover dear, thy Thisby dear, and lady dear.

Quin. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and Flute,

you Thisby.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Quin. Robin Starvelin the taylor.

Star. Here Peter Quince.

Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother

Tom Snowt the tinker.

Snowt. Here Peter Quince,

Quins

Quin. You Pyramus's father; my felf, Thisby's fa ther; Snug the joiner, you the lion's part; I hope there is a play fitted

Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you if it be, give it me, for I am flow of study.

Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

Bot. Le me play the Lion too, I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, let him roarsagain, let him roar again.

Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchess and the ladies, that they would shriek, and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every mother's fon.

Bot. I grant you friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more difcretion but to hang us; but I will aggravate my voice fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.

a

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a sweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one shall fee in a fummer's day; moft oft lovely gentlemanlike man: therefore you must needs play Pyramus.. 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 ftraw-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 Lam to intreat you, request you, and defire 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. L. pray you fail me not

Bot

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 bowstrings.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE Ι.

The Wood.

Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck or Robin-
goodfellow at another.

UCK.

OW now spirit, whither wander you?

Fai. Over hill, over dale,

Through bush, through briar,

Over park, over pale,

Through flood, through fire,
I do wander every where,

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I ferye the Fairy Queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green';
The cowflips tall her pensioners be,
In their gold coats spots you fee,
Thofe be rubies, Fairy favours:
In those freckles live their favours:
I must go feek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear.
Farewel thou lob of spirits, I'll be gone,
Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.

Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to-night,

Take heed the Queen come not within his fight.
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy stol'n from an Indian King:

She never had to sweet a changeling;

And:

And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild,
But the per-force with-holds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flow'rs, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled star-light Theen,
But they do † square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.

Fai. Or I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Call'd Robin-goodfellow Are you not he,
That fright the maidens of the villagree,

Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless huswife churn;
And fometime make the drink to bear no barme
Mif-lead night-wand'rers, laughing at their harm?
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck,
Are not you he?

Puck. Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merry wand'rer 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 fometimes lurk I in a goffip's bowl,,
In very likeness of a roasted † crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wifest aunt, telling the faddeft tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me,
Then flip I from her bum, down topples she,
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough,

4

And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear
A merrier hour was never waled there.
But make room, fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai. And here my mistress: would that he were gone.

SCENE

† i. e, quarrel or jar. † crab apple,