Biron. A twelvemonth! well, befall whatwiil befall, 111 jest a twelvemonth in a hospital. Pvin. \ To the King J Ay, sweet my lord; and so 1 take my leave. King. No, madam; we will bring you on ycarway. Biron, Our wooing doth not end like an old play , iack hath not Jill; tnese ladies' courtesy light well have made our sport a comedy. King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then twill end. Biron. That's too long for a play. Enter Anna do. Ar?n. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,— Prin. Was not that Hector? Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. Arm. I will kiss thy royal ringer, and take leave. I am a votary; 1 have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for "her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the cuckoo I it should have followed in the end of our show. King. Call them forth quickly; we will do so. Re-enter Holofernesi Nathaniel, Moth. Costard, and others. This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin. SONG. Spring. When daisies pied, and "violets blue. The cuckoo then, on every tree. Mocks married ineti ;for thus sings he. Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo,—O, word of fear I Unpteasing to a married ear. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws. And merry larks are ploughmeti sclocks. A fid maidens bleach tlietr summer si/cocks, Cuckoo, cuckoo,—0 word of fear I And Dick the shepherd blows his nail. And milk comes frozen home in pail. To-who; And coughing drowns tlie parson's saw. And Marian s nose looks red and raw. To-who; Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way. I Exeunt, ACT I. SCENE I.—Athens. A Room in the Palace of Theseus. £nter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and Four nights will quickly dream nway the time; New bent in heaven, shall behold the night The. Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments; [Exit Philostrate. Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius. Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke 1 7*he. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint Against my child, my daugUier Hermia.— Stand forth, Demetrius.—My noble lord. This man hath my consent lo marry her.— , Stand forth, Lysander :—and, my gracious duke, This man hath "witch'd the bosuui of my child :— Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes. And interchanged love-tokens with my child: Thou hast by moonlight at her winnow sung. With feigning voice, verses of feigning iove; And stoT'n th' impression of her fantasy With bracelets ot thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats ; messengers Of strong provailnlent in unharden'd youth: With cunning hast thou iilcii'd my daughter's heart; Turu'd her obedience, which is due to me, To stubborn harshness:—and, my gracious duke, Be it so she will not here before your grace Consent-to marry with Demetrius, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens; As she is mine, I may dispose of her: Which shall be either to this gentleman, Or to her death, according to our law Immediately provided in that case. The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: To you, your father should be as a god; One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax. By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure, or disfigure it. Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. Her. So is Lysander. The. In himself he is; But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice, Her. 1 would my father look*d but with my eyes. The. Rather, your eyes must with his judgment look. Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. The. Either to die the death, or to abjure 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 Dent. Relent, sweet Hermia:—and, Lysander, yield 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 1 true, he hath my love; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes, inc. 1 inu^t conies that 1 have heard so much Ege. W ith duty and desire we follow you. [Exeunt Thcs., Hip., Kge.. Dem., and train. Lys. How now, my love I Why isy-jurcheek sopoleir How chance the roses there to fade so fast? Her. Belike, for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes. Lys. Ah me 1 for aught that ever I could read, Her. O cross! too high to be uithraU'd to low 1 Lys. Or else niisgratied in respect of years,— Her. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young! Lys. Or elso it stood upon the choice ol friends,— Her. O hell! to choose love by another's eye! Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice. Her. If, then, true lovers have been ever cross'd, Lys. A good persuasion : therefore, hear me, Hermia. I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child: From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; And she respects me as her only son. There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us. If thou lov'st me, then. Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night; And in the wood, a league without the town, Where I did meet thee once with Helena, To do observance to a morn of May, There will 1 stay for thee. Her. ' My good Lysander I I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow; Lys. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena. Enter Helena. Her. God speed fair Helena I Whither away? Hel. Call you ine fair? that fair again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair! Your eyes ays lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear. When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Sickness is catching: O, were favour so, Vours would I catch, fair Hermia! ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody; Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated. The rest I'll ^ive to be to you translated. O, teach me how you look; and with what art Her. 1 frown upon him, yet he loves mc still. Hel. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill 1 Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face; Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: Her. And in the wood where often you and I Lys. I will, my Hermia.—[Exit Henn.] Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you t [Exit. Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be 1 Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; He will not know, what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hennia's eyes. So I, admiring of Ins qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind: Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; "Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste: And therefore is I -ove said to be a child. Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, So the boy Love is perjur'd every where: For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne, He hail'd down oathsthat he was only mine: And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, So he dissolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt. I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight: Then to the wood will he, to-morrow night. Pursue her; and for this intelligence If I have thanks, it is a dear expense: But herein mean I to enrich my pain. To have his sight thither and back again. {Exit. SCENE II.—Athens. A Room in a Cottage. Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. Quin. Is all our company here? Rot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. Quin. Here is the scroll of every man'sname, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and the duchess on his weddingday at night. Sot. 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. Rot. A very good piece of work, 1 assure you, and a merry.—Nov/, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll : Masters, spread yourselves. Quin. Answer, as I call you.—Nick Bottom, the weaver. Bat. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. Rot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love. Rot. 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, 1 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. "The raging rocks Ofprison-gates; This was lofty 1—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. 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 not ine play a woman ; 1 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. Rot. An I may hide my face, let mc play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice ;—"Thisne, Thisne"—"Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear J thy Thisby dear, and Lady dear /" Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus: and Flute, you Thisby. * Rot. 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. Rot. 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. Rot. 1 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. Rot. Well, 1 will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quin. Why, what you will. Rot. I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-v^rain 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 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. Hot. We wilt meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. Rot. Enough; hold, or cut bow-strings. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE l.—A Wood near Athens. Thorough bush, thorough brier, Thorough flood, thorough fire, Puck. The king doth keep his revels here to-night: Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite. Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite, Call'd Robin Good-fellow; are you not he That frights the maidens of the villagery; Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quem. And bootless makes the breathless housewife churn; And sometime make the drink to bear no barm; Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck: Are not you hef Puck. Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. Fai. And here my mistress :—Would that he were SCENE II.— The Same. Enter Oberon ctt one side, -with his train; and Titania on the other, with hers. Ohc. Ill met by inoon-Iight, proud Titania. Tita. What, jealous Oberon 1 Fairy, skip hence: I have forsworn his bed and company. Ohe Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord? Tita, Then, I must be thy lady: but I know Oae. How canst ihm thus, for shame, Titania, From Perigenia, whom he ravished? And make him with fair ^gle break his faith, With Ariadne, and Antiopa? Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: Ode. Do you amend it, then; it lies in you: Tita. Set your heart at rest: The fairy land buys not the child of ine. Ode. How long within this wood intend you stay? Tita. Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day. If you will patiently dance in our round, And see our moonlight revels, go with us; If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts. Ode. Give me that boy, and I will go with^-hee. Tita, Not for thy fairy kingdom.—Fairies, away I We shall chide downright, if 1 longer stay. [Exit Titania, and her train. Ode. Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this Till I torment thee for tins injury.— [grove, My gentle Puck, come hither: Thou remember st Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars snot madly from their spheres. To hear the sea-maid's music. Puck. I remember. Obe. That very time I saw (but thou couldst nofy Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west; And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts: But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd hi the chaste beams of the watery inooa, And the imperial votaress passed on. In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It felt upon a little western flower,— Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,— And maidens call it, love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower; the herb 1 show'd thee once: The juice of it on deeping eyelids laid. Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees. X Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again, Ere the leviathan can swim a league. Puck. IH put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes. \Exit. Obe. Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep. Enter Demetrius, Helena following hint. Dem. I love thee not, therefore pursue ine not. Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; Dem. Do I entice you t Do I speak you fair Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick when I do look on you. Hel. And I am sick when I look not on thee. Dem. You do impeach your modesty too much, Hel. Your virtue is iny privilege for that. Dem. I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes. And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Dem. I will not stay thy questions ; let me go: Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, I Exeunt Dem. and Hel. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter Puck. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. Puck. Ay, there it Is. Obe. I pray thee, give it me. I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows. Duck. Fear not, ray lord, your servant shall do so, [Exit. SCENE III.—Another part 0/the Wood. Enter Titania, with her train. Tita. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song; Then, for the third of a minute, hence; Some, to kill cankers in the inusk-rose buds; Some, war with rear-mice for their leathern wings. To make my small elves coats; and some, keep back The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices, and let me rest. SONG. 1 Fat. Yon spotted snakes, with double tongue. Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen; Sing in our sweet lullaby; 2 Fai. Weaving spiders come not here; Hettce.you long-legg'd spinners, hence I Beetles black, approach not near; JExeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps, Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear. Lie farther off yet; do not lie so near. Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence I |