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How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy,
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys. 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 I 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 Hermia,
Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle 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 anon.-
Egeus, I will overbear your will;

For in the temple, by and by with us,

These couples shall eternally be knit.

And, for the morning now is something worn,

[2] Fancy is here taken for love or affection, and is opposed to fury, as before:

"Sighs and tears, poor Fancy's followers."

Some now call that which a man takes particular delight in, his fancy. Flowers fancier, for a florist, and bird-fancier, for a lover and feeder of birds, are colloquia. words. JOHNSON.

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.

[Exe. THE. HIP. EGE. and train. Dem. These things seem small, and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double.

Hel. So methinks:

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem. It seems to me,

That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think,

The duke was here and bid us follow him?

Her. Yea; and my father.

Hel. 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.

As they go out, BOTTOм awakes.

[Exeunt.

Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer : -my next is, Most 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 methough. 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.

[3]-patched fool,] That is, a fool in a particolour'd coat. JOHNSON. [4] He means the death of Thisbe, which his head is at present full of

STEEVENS.

SCENE II.

Enter QUINCE,

Athens. A Room in QUINCE'S House.
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 handycraft man in Athens.

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

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

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Enter SNUG..

Saug. 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.

Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost six pence a-day during his life; he could not have 'scaped six pence a-day an the duke had not given him six pence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hanged; he would have deserved it: six pence 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.

Ι

Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. 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 [5] i. e. to prevent the false beards, which they wear, from falling off.

MALONE.

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 onions, nor garlic, 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 I.-The same.

An Apartment in the Palace of THESEUS. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Attendants.

Hippolyta.

'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 heaven;

And, as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation, and a name.

Such tricks hath strong imagination;

That, 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.

Phil. 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?

Phil. 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,

8

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 wondrous strange snow.

How shall we find the concord of this discord ?

Phil. 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

[6] By abridgment our author may mean a dramatic performance, which crowds

the events of years into a few hours. STEEVENS.

[7] i. e. a short account or enumeration. STEEVENS.

[8] Critical here means criticising, censuring. So, in Othello:

"O, I am nothing if not critical." STEEVENS.

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