From off the head of this Athenian swain;
That he awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair;
And think no more of this night's accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the fairy queen.
Be, as thou wast wont to be;

[ Touching her eyes with an herb. See, as thou wast wont to see: Diana's bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. Tita. My Oberon ! what visions have I seen ! Methought I was enamour'd of an ass. Obe. There lies your love.

Tita. How came these things to pass ? O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now! Obe. Silence, a while.-Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep, of all these five the sense. Tita. Music, ho! music; 'such as charmeth sleep. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

Obe. Sound, music [Still music.] Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity;
And will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly,
Dance in duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fai posterity;
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Puck. Fairy king, attend, and mark;
I do hear the morning lark.
Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.
Tita. Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping here was found,
With these mortals, on the ground.

[Exeunt. [Horns sound within.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. The. Go, one of you, find out the forester ;For now our observation is perform'd; And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds.Uncouple in the western valley; go:Despatch, I say, and find the forester.We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion

Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. 1 was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once,
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear
Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flcw'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook knee'd and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly :

This Helena, old Nedar's Helena :
I wonder of their being here together

The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.-
But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice!
Ege. It is, my lord.
[horns
The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their
Horns, and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER,
HERMIA, and HELENA, wake and start up.

The. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? [past; Lys. Pardon, my lord. He and the rest kneel to THESEUS. 1 pray you all, stand up.

The.

I know, you are two rival enemies;
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy,
To sleep by hate, and fear uo enmity?

Lus. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half 'sleep, half waking: But as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I came here:
But, as I think. (for truly would 1 speak,
And now I do bethink me, so it is ;)

I came with Hermia hither: our intent
Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the peril of the Athenian law.

Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough I beg the law, the law upon his head.

They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me:

You, of your wife; and me, of my consent;
Of my consent that she should be your wife.

Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;
Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
(But, by some power it is,) my love to Hernia
Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an ille gawd.
Which in my childhood I did dote upon :
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia :
But, like in sickness, did I loath this food:
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now do I wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met :
Of this discourse we more will hear anou.
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple. by and by with us,
These couples shail eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside. -
Away, with us, to Athens: Three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity —
Come. Hippolyta.

13.9.

[Exeunt THESEus, Hippolyta, Eorus, and truin Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishLike far-off mountains turned into clouds. Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double.

Hel.

Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is:

Dem. It seems to ine, That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think,

The duke was here, and id us follow him? Her. Yea; and my father.

Mel.

And Hippolyta. Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple. Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow him; And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.

As they go out, BOTTOM awakes.

Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer:-my next is, Mest fair Pyramus.Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life! stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a-most rare vision. I have had a dream,-past the wit of man to say what dream it was :-Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was -there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had.-But man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. [Exit. 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?

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported.

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. Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any bandycraft man in Athens."

Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is

very paramour, for a sweet voice.

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

Enter SNUG.

a

God

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 is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion, pare

his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no orions, nor garlick, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt, but to hear them say, It is a sweet comedy. No more words; away; go, away. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE 1.-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.

The. More strange than true. I never may believe
These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact:
One 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
And, as imagination bodies forth
[heaven
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Such tricks hath strong imagination;
A local habitation, and a name.
1t comprehends some bringer of that joy;
That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?
Or, in the night, imagining some fear,

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

[ing!

Philost. Here, mighty Theseus. The. Say, what abridgment have you for this evenWhat 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 Bacchanats,
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 the play
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my noble 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.

[bere,

The. What are they that do play it? Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens Which never labour'd in their minds till now; And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories With this same play, against your nuptial. The. And we will hear it. Philost.

No, my noble lord, It is not for you: I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world; Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain, To do you service.

The.

I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies. [Exeunt PHILOSTrate. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged, And duty in his service perishing.

The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
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 sawcy, and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue tied simplicity,
In .east, speak most, to my capacity.

Enter PHILOSTRATE.

Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is ad

drest.

The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. Enter QUINCE as 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 shew our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then, we come but in despite.

We do not come as minding to content you,

Our true intent is. We are not here.

All for your delight,

That you should here repent you,

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, Moonshine, 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

64

sunder:

[tent

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

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"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 Moonshine. The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lior 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 Thisby, "Did whisper often very secretly.

This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth shew
That I am that same wall; the truth is so :

And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper."
The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak

better?

eyne.

me thy chink, to blink through with mine [Wall holds up his fingers. nks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for what see I? No Thisby do I see. [this! icked wall, through whom I see no bliss; st be thy stones for thus deceiving me!" The wall, methinks, being sensible, should again.

No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am her through the wall. You shall see, it will t as I told you :-Yonder she comes. Enter THISBE.

- "O wall, full often hast thou heard my or parting my fair Pyramus and me: [moans, cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones; ■y stones with lime and hair knit up in thee."

I see a voice: now will I to the chink, spy an I can hear my Thisby's face.

Dy!"

My love! thou art my love, I think." Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's like Limander am I trusty still."

[grace;

And I like Helen, till the fates me kill." Not Shafalus to Procrus, was so true." "As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you." [wall."

'O, xiss me through the hole of this vile "I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all." Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?"

"Tide life, tide death, I come without delay." "Thus have 1, wall, my part discharged so ; being done, thus wall away doth go."

[Exeunt Wall, PYRAMUS, and THISBE. Now is the mural down between the two

urs.

No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilear without warning.

This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The best in this kind are but shadows; and se are no worse, if imagination amend them. It must be your imagination then, and not

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

Enter Lion and Moonshine.

"You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
en lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
know, that I, one Snug, the joiner, am
fell, nor else no lion's dam:

I should as lion come in strife
is place, 'twere pity on my life."

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

This lion is a very fox for his valour. True; and a goose for his discretion. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry etion; and the fox carries the goose. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: o his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. "This lantern doth the horned moon present:"

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

“ Myself the man i' the moon do seem to be."

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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 aweary 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. Lus. Proceed, moon.

46

Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that, thorn bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog." the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for But, silence; here comes they are in the moon.

Thisbe.

"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 deflour'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:
"Ay, that left pap,
"Where heart doth hop:-
"Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
"Now am I dead,

Tongue, loose thy light! Moon, take thy flight! "Now die, die, die, die, die."

[Dies-Exit Moonshine. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he