Starveling.
The Queen of Fairies lying asleep.
Bottom.
Are we all met?
Quin.
Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient
place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall
be our stage, this hauthorn-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 must
draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot
abide. How answer you that?
Snout.
By'rlaken, a parlous fear.6Q0013
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 kill'd indeed; and for more better assurance tell
-- 127 --
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 six.
Bot.
No, make it two more; let it be written in
eight and eight.
Snout.
Will not the ladies be afraid 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 thing; for there is not a 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 intreat 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 joiner.
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 kalendar, a kalendar! look in the almanack;
find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine.
Quin.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
Bot.
Why then may you leave a casement of the
great chamber window, where we play, open; and the
moon may shine in at the casement.
Quin.
Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of
-- 128 --
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 thro' 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 plaister, or some lome, or some
rough-cast about him, to signify wall: Or let him hold
his fingers thus; and through the cranny shall Pyramus
and Thisby whisper.
Quin.
If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit
down every mother's son, and rehearse you parts. Pyramus,
you begin; when you have spoken your speech,
enter into that brake; 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 tow'rd? I'll be an auditor;
An Actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin.
Speak, Pyramus; Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr.
Thisby, the flower of odious savours sweet.
Quin.
Odours, odours.
Pyr.
Odours, savours sweet.
So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby, dear;
But hark, a voice! stay thou but here a whit;2 note
And, by and by, I will to thee appear.
[Exit Pyramus.
-- 129 --
Puck.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er plaid here!
[Aside.
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-whit of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky Juvenile, 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 all. Pyramus, enter;
your cue is past; it is, never tire.
Re-enter Bottom, with an Ass head.
This.
O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
Pyr.
If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.
Quin.
O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted;
pray, masters; fly, masters; help!
[The Clowns exeunt.
Puck.
I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round.
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through bryer;3 note
Sometimes a horse I'll be, sometimes a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometimes 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 of
them to make me afeard.
Enter Snout.
Snout.
O Bottom, thou art chang'd; what do I see
on thee?1 note
Bot.
What do you see? you see an ass-head of your
own, do you?
-- 130 --
Enter Quince.
Quin.
Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee; thou art translated.
Bot.
I see their knavery, this is to make an ass of me,
to fright me if they could; but I will not 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 cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill.
Queen.
What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?
[Waking.
Bot.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
[Sings.
The plain-song cuckow gray,
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 lye, tho' he cry cuckow
never so?
Queen.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again;
4 note
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
-- 131 --
And thy fair virtue's force (perforce) doth move me,
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
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 5 notegleek upon occasion.
Queen.
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.
Queen.
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 deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
