SCENE II.-Athens. A Room in Quince's House. Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING. Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet? (is transported. Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred; it goes not forward, doth it?

Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus, but he. Fa. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens.

Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very paramour, for a sweet voice.

F. You must say, paragon: a paramour is, God bless us, a thing of nought.

Enter SNUG.

Sang. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

Fia. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a-day during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be banged, he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing.

Enter BOTTOM.

Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? Quin. Bottom-O most courageous day! O most happy hour!

Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out.

Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom.

Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is that the duke hath dined: get your apparel together; good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o'er his part; for, the short and the long s, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him, that plays the Boo, pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the on's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions, orgarlick, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not donbt, but to hear them say, it is a sweet amedy. No more words; away; go away.

ACT V.

Exeunt.

SCENE L-The same. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE,
Lords, and Attendants.

Hip. Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers
speak of.
[lieve

The. More strange than true. I never may be-
These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains,
Sch shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact:

Jae sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to beaven;

And, as imagination bodies forth

I be forms of things unknown, the poet's pen

I rrns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing

A local habitation, and a name.

ach tricks hath strong imagination:

hat, if it would but apprehend some joy,

It comprehends some bringer of that joy;

Or, in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?

Hip. But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
More witnesseth than fancy's images,
And grows to something of great constancy;
But, howsoever, strange, and admirable.

Enter LYSANDer, Demetrius, HERMIA, and HELENA.

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.—
Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love,
Accompany your hearts!
Lys.
More than to us
Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed!
The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall
we have,

To wear away this long age of three hours,
Between our after-supper, and bed-time?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philostrate.

Philost.

Here, mighty Theseus. The. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening?

What mask? what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with some delight?

Philost. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe; Make choice of which your highness will see first. (Giving a paper.)

The. (Reads.) The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung,

By an Athenian eunuch, to the harp. We'll none of that: that have I told my love, In glory of my kinsman Hercules.

The riot of the tipsy bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage. That is an old device; and it was play'd When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary. That is some satire, keen, and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.

A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus,
And his love Thisbe: very tragical mirth.
Merry and tragical? tedious and brief?
That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow.
How shall we find the concord of this discord?
Philost. A play there is, my lord, some ten words
long;

Which is as brief as I have known a play;
But by ten words, my lord, it is too long;
Which makes it tedious: for in all they play
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my uoble lord, it is;
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
Which, when I saw rehears'd, I must confess,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
The. What are they that do play it?
Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens

here,

Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.
[Exit Philostrate.
Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged,
And duty in his service perishing.
[thing.
The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such
Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind.
The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for
nothing.

Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake:
And what poor duty cannot do,

Noble respect takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome: trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence, yet, I pick'd a welcome;
And in the modesty of fearful duty

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy, and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity,
In least, speak most, to my capacity.

The. Let him approach. (Flourish of trumpets.) Enter Prologue.

Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will, That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then, we come but in despite

[you,

We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight, We are not here. That you should here repent The actors are at hand; and, by their show, You shall know all, that you are like to know.

The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. Lys. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not enough to speak, but to speak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue, like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.

The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moon-shine, and Lion, as in dumb show.

Prol. "Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this

show;

"But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. "This man is Pyramus, if you would know; "This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain. "This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder:

66

"And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are

content

"To whisper; at the which let no man wonder. "This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, "Presenteth moon-shine: for, if you will know, "By moon-shine did these loyers think no scorn

"To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. "This grisly beast, which by name lion hight, "The trusty Thisby, coming first by night, "Did scare away, or rather did affright: "And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall; "Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain: "Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall, "And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain: "Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, "He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; "And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,

"His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,

"Let lion, moon-shine, wall, and lovers twain, "At large discourse, while here they do remain."

[Exeunt Prol. Thisbe, Lion, and Moon-shine The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do.

Wall." In this same interlude, it doth befall, "That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: "And such a wall as I would have you think, "That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,

Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbr "Did whisper often very secretly. [show "This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, de That I am that same wall; the truth is so: "And this the cranny is, right and sinister,

66

Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." The. Would you desire lime and hair to spra better?

Dem. It is the wittiest partition, that ever I hear discourse, my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
Enter Pyramus.
Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with
so black!

"O night, which ever art, when day is not! "O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,

"I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!"And thou, O wall, O'sweet, O lovely wall, "That stand'st between her father's ground and mine;

“Thou wall, Ỏ wall, O sweet and lovely wall. "Shew me thy chink, to blink through with eyne. (Wall holds up his fingers "Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee w for this!

"But what see I? No Thisby do I see. "O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss; "Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!"

The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, she curse again.

Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Decei me, is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I fall pat as I told you :-yonder she comes. to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it

grace;

"And like Limander am I trusty still."

This. “And I like Helen, till the fates me kil Pyr. "Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true." This. "As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you." Pyr.

"O, kiss me through the hole of this vi wall." This. "I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at a Pyr. "Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet straightway?"

This. "Tide life, tide death, I come with delay."

Wall." Thus have I, wall, my part discharged "And, being done, thus wall away doth go [Exeunt Wall, Pyramus and Th The. Now is the mural down between the neighbours.

Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are wilful, to hear without warning.

Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard The. The best in this kind are but shadows: the worst are no worse, if imagination amend the Hip. It must be your imagination then, and theirs.

The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moon-shine.

Lion. "You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear [floor, The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on May now, perchance, both quake and tremble, here,

"When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. "Then know, that 1, one Snug, the joiner, am "A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam:

For if I should as lion come in strife "Into this place, 'twere pity on my life."

The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.

Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goose for his discretion. Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.

The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his ralour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to

the moon.

Moon. "This lantern doth the horned moon present: "

Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.

Moon. This lantern doth the horned moon present;

"Mrself the man i'th'moon do seem to be."

The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern: how is it else the man i'the moon?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: for, you see, it is already in snuff.

Hip. I am weary of this moon: would, he would change!

The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time.

Lys. Proceed, moon.

Moon." All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dug."

Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But silence; here comes

Thisbe.

"Approach, ye furies fell!

O fates! come, come;

"Cut thread and thrum; "Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!" The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. "O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame?

"Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear: "Which is no, no-which was the fairest dame, "That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look d with cheer.

"Come, tears, confound; "Out, sword, and wound "The pap of Pyramus:

66

Ay, that left рар, "Where heart doth hop:"Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. "Now am I dead, "Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: "Tongue, lose thy light! "Moon, take thy flight! "Now die, die, die, die, die."

66

(Dies.)

[Exit Moonshine. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one. is nothing. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he

The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance moon-shine is gone, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?

The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.

Speak, speak. Quite dumb? "Dead, dead? A tomb "Must cover thy sweet eyes.

"These lily brows, "This cherry nose, "These yellow cowslip cheeks, "Are gone, are gone: "Lovers, make moan! "His eyes were green as leeks. "O sisters three,

"Come, come to me, "With hands as pale as milk; Lay them in gore,

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Since you have shore

"With shears his thread of silk.

"Tongue, not a word:-
"Come, trusty sword;

"Come, blade, my breast imbrue.

"And farewell, friends;

"Thus Thisbe ends:

66

(Dies.)

Adieu, adieu, adieu.”

The. Moon-shine and lion are left to bury the

dead.

Dem. Ay, and wall too.

Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our company.

The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have

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been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. (Here a dance of Clowns.) The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve :Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.

I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn,
As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd
The heavy gait of night.-Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity.

SCENE II.

Enter PUCK.

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,

[Exeunt.

Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,

In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecat's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic; not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent, with broom, before,

To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their train.
Obe. Through this house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf, and fairy sprite,

Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,
Sing, and dance it trippingly.

Tita. First, rehearse this song by rote:
To each word a warbling note,

Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.

SONG, AND DANCE.

Obe. Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue, there create,
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be:

And the blots of nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,

Shall upon their children be.-
With this field-dew consecrate,

Every fairy take his gait;

And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace with sweet peace:
E'er shall it in safety rest,

And the owner of it blest.
Trip away;
Make no stay;

Meet me all by break of day.

[Exeunt Oberon, Titania and train.
Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended.)
That you have but slumber'd here,
While these visions did appear;
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I'm an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends, ere long:
Else the Puck a liar call.

So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends. Ent

gawds, i. e. baubles, toys,

Id. c. 2, l. 9. To leave the figure, or disfigure it.] i. e. you owe to your father a being which he may at pleasure continue or destroy. Id. 1. 28. Know of your youth,] Consider your youth.

Id. 1. 35. But earthlier happy —] perhaps, earlier; | or, earthly happy.

P. 164, c. 1, l. 15.

spotted-] As spotless is innocent, so spotted is wicked.

Id. 1. 39. Beteem them-] Give them, pour out upon them.

Id. l. 53. the collied night,] Collied, i. e. black, smutted with coal."

Id 1. 63. fancy's followers] Fancy is love. Id. c. 2. l. 2. by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen,] Shakspeare had forgot that Theseus performed his exploits before the Trojan war, and consequently long before the death of Dido.

Id. l. 12. Demetrius loves your fair :] Fair is used as a substantive.

Id 1. 13. Your eyes are lode-stars ;] This was a compliment not unfrequent among the old poets. The lode-star is the leading or guiding star, that is, the pole-star.

Id. 1. 16.- -O, were favour so!] Favour is fea

ture, countenance.

Id. 1. 21. to be to you translated.] To translate, says Mr. Steevens, in our author, sometimes signifies to change, to transform; but here it obviously means transferred. C. Id. l. 35. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face;

Lysander and myself will fly this place.Before the time I did Lysander see ] Perhaps every reader may not discover the propriety of these lines. Hermia is willing to comfort Helena, and to avoid all appearance of triumph over her. She therefore bids her not to consider the power of pleasing as an advantage to be much envied or much desired, since Hermia, whom she considers as possessing it in the supreme degree, has found no other effect of it than the loss of happiness. JOHN

SON.

Id. 1. 38. "Like a paradise." MALONE.

Id. l. 56..

when Phoebe doth behold, &c deep midnight. Shakspeare has a little forgotten himself. It appears from p. 163, that to-morrow night would be within three nights of the new moon, when there is no moon-shine at all, much less at deep midnight. The same oversight occurs in Act III. sc. i. BLACK

Id. 1. 9. In this scene Shakspeare takes advantage of his knowledge of the theatre, to ridicule the prejudices and competitions of the players. Bottom, who is generally acknowledged the principal actor, declares his inclination to be for a tyrant, for a part of fury, tumult, and noise, such as every young man pants to perform when he first steps upon the stage. The same Bottom, who seems bred in a tiring-room, has another histrionical passion. He is for engrossing every part, and would exclude his inferiors from all possibility of distinction. He is therefore desirous to play Pyramus, Thisbe, Id. l. 12. the scrip.] A scrip, Fr. escript, now and the Lion, at the same time. JOHNSON.

written écrit.

Id. l. 24.

-spread yourselves.] i. e. stand separately, not in a group.

Id. 1. 40. And shivering shocks." MALONE.
Id. l. 74. slow of study.] Study, Mr. Steevens

says, is still the cant term used in a theatre for
getting any nonsense by rote; but Mr. Malone
says it is not more a cant term than any other
word of art, nor is it applied necessarily to
nonsense. Malone asserts, that Steevens made
the above remark to vex Garrick, with whom
he had quarrelled.

Id. c. 2, l. 11. an 'twere-] An means as if. Id. 1. 33. properties, Properties are what

ever little articles are wanted in a play for the actors, according to their respective parts, dresses and scenes excepted. The person who delivers them out is to this day called the property-man.

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