Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swagger

ing here,

So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What! a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin.-Speak, Pyramus. Thisbe, stand forth.
Bot.-Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet-
Quin.-Odors, odors.

Bot.-- odors savors sweet:

So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear. But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile, And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here. [Exit. Flu.-Must I speak now?

Quin.-Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand

he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

Flu. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, Of color 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'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. Quin.—“Ninus' tomb," man; why, you must not speak that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus enter; your cue is past; it is, "never tire."

that yet;

Flu.-O! As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.

[Reënter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's
head.]

Bot. If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine.
Quin.-O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters! fly, masters! Help!

[Exeunt Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and
Starveling.

Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:

Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,

A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and

burn,

Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

[Exit.

1 Bot. Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me afeard.

[Reënter Snout.]

Snout.-O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see
on thee?

Bot. What do you see? You see an ass-head of your
own, do you?
[Exit Snout.

[Reënter Quince.]

Quin.-Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art [Exit.

translated.

Bot. I see their knavery; this is to make an ass of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can; I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid.

The ousel cock so black of hue,

With orange-tawny bill,

[Sings.

The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;

Tita. [Awaking]-What angel wakes me from my

flowery bed?