Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And, to speak troth, 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; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my inno cence; Love takes the meaning, in love's conference. Her. Lysander riddles very prettily.- So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: Enter PUCK. Puck. Through the forest have I gone, metrius. [Erit. Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. Dem. Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go. [Exit Demetrius. Hel. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies; For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears: If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. Hel. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so: What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though? Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content. Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I do repent When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn? In such disdainful manner me to woo. But fare you well: perforce I must confess, Should, of another, therefore be abus'd! [Exit. Lys. She sees not Hermia :-Hermia, sleep thou there; And never may'st thou come Lysander near! me! do thy best, To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear; [Exit. ACT III. 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 Pyrainus, 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. Bot. 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. Bot. 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 is not a lion. 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? Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the al manack; find out moon-shine, find out moonshine. 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. Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorus and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of moonshine. 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 chink of a wall. Snug. You never can bring in a wall.—What say you, Bottom? Bot. Some man or other must present wall: and let him have some plaster, or some lome, or some rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him 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 swaggering here, So near the cradle of the fairy queen? Quin. Speak, Pyramus :-Thisby, stand forth. Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet, Quin. Odours, odours. odours savours sweet; So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! [Aside.-Exit. This. 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. This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lilye-white of hue, 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'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ňinny's tomb. Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: Why, you must not speak that yet; 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. Re-enter Puck, and BOTTOM with an ass's head. This. O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire. Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine: Quin. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! help! [Exeunt Clowns. 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, Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [Exit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a kna very of them, to make me afeard. Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry cuckoo never so? Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again: Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee. 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: The more the pity, that some ho nest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion. 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 own turn. Tita. Out of this wood do not desire to go; The summer still doth tend upon my state, And I will purge thy mortal grossness so, Enter four Fairies. 1 Fai. Ready. 2 Fai. And I. 3 Fai. And I. 4 Fai. Where shall we go? Lamenting some enforced chastity. SCENE II.-Another part of the wood. Enter OBERON. Obe. I wonder, if Titania be awak'd; Enter PUCK. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad What night-rule now about this haunted grove? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentle- Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day. man; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; 2 Fai. Hail! 3 Fai. Hail! 4 Fai. Hail! The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Bot. I cry your worships mercy, heartily.-I Their sense, thus weak, lost with their fears, 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 Mrs Squash, your mother, and to master Peas-cod, your father. Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.-Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustard-seed. Bot. Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience well that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaintance, good master Mustard-seed. Tita. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower. The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, thus strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: 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 And the Athenian woman by his side; Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA. Obe. Stand close; this is the same Athenian. man. Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse; For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. The sun was not so true unto the day, moon May through the center creep, and so displease Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty: 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 past the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Her. I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well. Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, By some illusion see thou bring her here: Re-enter PUCK. Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Shall we their fond pageant see? Obe. Stand aside: the noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake. Puck. Then will two at once, woo one; That must needs be sport alone; And those things do best please me, That befal preposterously. 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. When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray! These vows are Hermia's: Will you give her o'er? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: Your vows, to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh; and both as light as tales. Lys. I had no judgment, when to her I swore. Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er. 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? |