O, teach me how you look, and with what art Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel.O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel O that my prayers could such affection move! Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. 200 Hel. None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine! O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: 210 220 Lys. I will, my Hermia. [Exit Herm.] Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! Hel. How happy some o'er other some can be! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. [Exit. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; 230 240 250 [Exit. SCENE II. Athens. QUINCE's house. Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his wedding-day at night. Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point. ΙΟ Quin. Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll, Masters, spread yourselves. Quin. Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. Bot. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love. 20 Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest: yet my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. This was lofty! The raging rocks And shivering shocks Shall break the locks Of prison gates; And Phibbus' car Shall shine from far And make and mar The foolish Fates. 30 Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling. Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. Flu. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. Flute, you must take Thisby on you. Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. 40 Flu. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard coming. Quin. That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too, Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus: and, Flute, you Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Star. Here, Peter Quince. 50 Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. Snout. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father. Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I hope, here is a play fitted. Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. 61 Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again, let him roar again.' Quin. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all. All. That would hang us, every mother's son. 70 Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: therefore you must needs play Pyramus. 80 Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play barefaced. But, masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. 95 Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough; hold or cut bow-strings. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. A wood near Athens. Enter, from opposite sides, a FAIRY, and PUCK. Puck. How now, spirit! whither wander you? Fai. Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, |