SCINE I.-Athens. A Room in the Palace of THESEUS. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and The. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; New bent in heaven, shall behold the night The. Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments; Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth : Turn melancholy forth to funerals, The pale companion is not for our pomp.[Exit PHILOSTRATE. Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword, And won thy love doing thee injuries; But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling. Enter EGEUS, with his daughter HERMIA, LYSANDER, and DEMETRIUS. Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! The. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee? Ege. Full of vexation come I; with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia.— To stubborn harshness.-And, my gracious duke, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens, Or on Diana's altar to protest, Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia;-and, Lysander, Thy crazed title to my certain right. Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him. Ege. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my And what is mine my love shall render him; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And, which is more than all these boasts can be, Why should not I then prosecute my right? The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair Upon this spotted and inconstant man. But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice, Her. I would, my father look'd but with my The. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts; The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires; Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, The. Take time to pause: and by the next new moon, The sealing-day betwixt my love and me Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would; The. I must confess, that I have heard so much, My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; I have some private schooling for you both.— I must employ you in some business [Exeunt THES., HIP., EGE., DEM., and train. Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast? Her. Belike, for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes. Lys. Ah me! for aught that I could ever read, The course of true love never did run smooth; Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low' Her. If, then, true lovers have been ever cross'd, Then, let us teach our trial patience, As due to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Lys. A good persuasion: therefore, hear me, Hermia. I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child: Her. My good Lysander! By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves, Lys. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Enter HELENA. Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair! More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, 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. Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see my O then, what graces in my love do dwell, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold. To-morrow night when Phœbe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,) Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. Her. And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet, There my Lysander and myself shall meet; And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and strange companies. Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius !— Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight. [Exit HERMIA. Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! [Exit LYSANDER. Hel. How happy some, o'er other some, can be! Things base and vil'd, holding no quantity, [Exit. SCENE II.-The Same. A Room in a Cottage. Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING. 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 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. 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 your selves. Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the weaver. Bot. Ready. proceed. Name what part I am for, and 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. 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 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. some measure. This was lofty!-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. Quin. You must take Thisby on you. Flu. What is Thisby? a wandering knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman: I have a beard coming. Quin. That's all one. You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too. I'll speak in a monstrous little voice:-"Thisne, Thisne-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear! thy Thisby dear, and lady dear!" Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus, and, Flute, you Thisby. Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Star. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.-Tom Snout, the tinker. Snout. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. You, Pyramus's 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. 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. 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, gentlemanlike man; therefore, you must needs play Pyramus. 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 strawcolour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purplein-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 bare-faced.-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 moon-light: there will we rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. [Exeunt. |