Starveling.
Bot.
Are we all met?
Quin.
Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous* note convenient
place for our rehearsal: This green plot shall
be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring-house;
and we will do it in action, as we will do it before
the duke.
Bot.
Peter Quince,—
Quin.
What say'st thou, bully Bottom?
Bot.
There are things in this comedy of Pyramus
and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus
-- 245 --
must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies
cannot abide. How answer you that?
Snout.
By'rlakin, a parlous fear7 note
.
Star.
I believe, we must leave the killing out,
when all is done.
Bot.
Not a whit; I have a device to make all
well. Write me a prologue: and let the prologue
seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords;
and that Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the
more better assurance, tell them, that I Pyramus am
not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: This will
put them out of fear.
Quin.
Well, we will have such a prologue; and
it shall be written in eight and six8 note.
Bot.
No, make it two more; let it be written in
eight and eight.
Snout.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Star.
I fear it, I promise you.
Bot.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves:
to bring in, God shield us! a lion among
ladies, is a most dreadful thing9 note; for there is not a
-- 246 --
more fearful wild-fowl than your lion, living; and
we ought to look to it.
Snout.
Therefore another prologue must tell, he
is not a lion.
Bot.
Nay, you must name his name, and half his
face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he
himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the
same defect,—Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish
you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat
you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours.
If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of
my life: No, I am no such thing; I am a man as
other men are:—and there, indeed, let him name
his name; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the
joiner1 note
.
-- 247 --
Quin.
Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard
things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a
chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet
by moon-light.
Snug.
Doth the moon shine, that night we play
our play?
Bot.
A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack;
find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine.
Quin.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
Bot.
Why, then you may leave a casement of the
great chamber window, where we play, open; and
the moon may shine in at the casement.
Quin.
Aye; or else one must come in with a bush
of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure,
or to present, the person of moon-shine.
Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall
in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby,
says the story, did talk through the chink of a
wall.
Snug.
You never can bring in a wall.—What say
you, Bottom?
Bot.
Some man or other must present wall: and
let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some
rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him
hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall
Pyramus and Thisby whisper.
Quin.
If that may be, then all is well. Come,
sit down, every mother's son, and rehearse your
parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken
-- 248 --
your speech, enter into that brake2 note
; and so every
one according to his cue.
Enter Puck behind.
Puck.
What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin.
Speak, Pyramus:—Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr.
Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,—
Quin.
Odours, odours.
Pyr.
&lblank; odours savours sweet:
So hath thy breath3 note
, my dearest Thisby dear.—
But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while4 note
,
And by and by I will to thee appear.
[Exit.
-- 249 --
Puck.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here5 note!
[Aside.—Exit.
This.
Must I speak now?
Quin.
Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand,
he goes but to see a noise that he heard,
and is to come again.
This.
Most radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal6 note, and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
Quin.
Ninus' tomb, man: Why you must not
speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you
speak all your part at once, cues and all7 note
.—Pyramus
enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire.
Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head.
This.
O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
Pyr.
If I were fair8 note, Thisby, I were only thine:—
Quin.
O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters! fly, masters! help!
[Exeunt Clowns.
-- 250 --
Puck.
I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier9 note
;
Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
[Exit.
Bot.
Why do they run away? this is a knavery
oft hem, to make me afeard1 note.
Re-enter Snout.
Snout.
O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I
see on thee2 note
?
Bot.
What do you see? you see an ass's head of
your own; Do you?
Re-enter Quince.
Quin.
Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art
translated.
[Exit.
Bot.
I see their knavery: this is to make an ass
of me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not
-- 251 --
stir from this place, do what they can: I will walk
up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall
hear I am not afraid.
[Sings.
The ousel-cock3 note
, so black of hue,
With orange-tawney bill,
The throstle4 note
with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;
Tita.
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed5 note
?
[Waking.
-- 252 --
Bot.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckoo gray6 note
,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay;—
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a
bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry,
cuckoo, never so?
Tita.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me,
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee7 note
.
-- 253 --
Bot.
Methinks, mistress, you should have little
reason for that: And yet, to say the truth, reason
and love keep little company together now-a-days:
The more the pity, that some honest neighbours
will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek8 note
upon occasion.
Tita.
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Bot.
Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough
to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve
mine own turn.
Tita.
Out of this wood do not desire to go;
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit, of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep9 note
,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
-- 254 --
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.—
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.
1 Fai.
Ready.
2 Fai.
And I.
3 Fai.
And I.
4 Fai.
And I.
All.
Where shall we go1 note
?
Tita.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries2 note
,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey bags steal from the humble-bees,
And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the firy glow-worm's eyes3 note
,
To have my love to bed, and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
-- 255 --
1 Fai.
Hail, mortal4 note!
2 Fai.
Hail!
3 Fai.
Hail!
4 Fai.
Hail!
Bot.
I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.—I beseech,
your worship's name.
Cob.
Cobweb.
Bot.
I shall desire you of more acquaintance5 note
,
good master Cobweb: If I cut my finger, I shall
make bold with you.—Your name, honest gentleman6 note
?
-- 256 --
Peas.
Peas-blossom.
Bot.
I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash,
your mother7 note
, and to master Peascod, your father.
Good master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of
more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech
you, sir?
Mus.
Mustard-seed.
Bot.
Good master Mustard-seed, I know your
patience8 note
well: that same cowardly, giant-like oxbeef
hath devoured many a gentleman of your
house: I promise you, your kindred hath made my
-- 257 --
eyes water ere now. I desire you more acquaintance,
good master Mustard-seed.
Tita.
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye;
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Tie up my lover's tongue9 note
, bring him silently.
[Exeunt.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
