Unless you can find sport in their intents, 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: Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Enter Philostrate. Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is addrest.' 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. 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 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. This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, 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, Moonshine, 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 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 Thisby, 'Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord. The. Pyramus draws near the wall; silence' Enter Pyramus. Pyr. O grim-look'd night! O night with hue 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, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, 'Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine [Wall holds up his fingers. Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue,O 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. eyne. this! 'But what see I? No Thisby do I see. wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss; 'Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!' The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again. Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving and I am me, is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you:-Yonder she comes. Enter Thisbe. This. 'O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus and me: This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth presentMy cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones; 'Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee. Pyr. 'I see a voice; now will I to the chink, To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face. Thisby! This. My love! thou art my love, I tl ink.' (3) Called. ་ Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace; And like Limander am I trusty still.' This. And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.' 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 vile wall.' This. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.' Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?' This.Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.' Wall. Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; 'And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.' [Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning. Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not 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 Moonshine. Lion. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear 'The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, 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 valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to present; Myself the man i' th' moon do seem to be.' The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: he 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, hat he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Hip. Well shone, moon.-Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. The. Well moused, lion. [The lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit. Dem. And so comes Pyramus. Lys. And then the moon vanishes. Pur. 'Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; 'I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright: For, by thy gracious, golden glittering streams, I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. But stay;-O spite! 'But mark:-Poor knight, 'What dreadful dole is here! 'Eyes, do you see? "O dainty duck! O dear! Thy mantle good, O fates! come, come; Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!'' 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.4 Come, tears, confound; Ay, that left pap, Tongue, lose thy light! [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 is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass. Hip. How chance Moonshine 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. 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 play'd Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have 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, 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, [Exeunt. Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Now it is the time of night, In the church-way paths to glide: By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, 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: SONG, AND DANCE. Obe. Now, until the break of day, And the blots of nature's hand Shall upon their children be.- And each several chamber bless, Puck. [Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and Train. Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. [Exi Mercade, France. Don Adriano de Armado, a fantastical Spaniard. Jaquenetta, a country wench. Sir Nathaniel, a curate. Holofernes, a schoolmaster. Dull, a constable. Costard, a clown. Moth, page to Armado. ACT I. And, one day in a week to touch no food; And but one meal on every day beside; The which, I hope, is not enrolled there: SCENE I-Navarre. A park, with a palace And then to sleep but three hours in the night, in it. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain. LET King. and And not to be seen to wink of all the day; fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring time, The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors!-for so you are, Biron. I can but say their protestation over, (When I was wont to think no harm all night, I King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please; only swore, to study with your grace, And stay here in your court for three years' space. Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense; King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on, then, I will swear to study so To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus-To study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid ; Or, study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid: Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, Study to break it, and not break my troth. If study's gain be thus, and this be so, Study knows that, which yet it doth not know: Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say, no. King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight. Biron. Why, all delights are vain ; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the like of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely' blind the eyesight of his look: Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile. So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. (1) Dishonestly treacherously. |