Enter the prologue.
Prol.
If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you should think, we come not to offend,
But with good-will. To shew our simple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then, we come but in despite.
We do not come, as minding to content you,
Our true intent is. All for your delight,
We are not here. That you should here repent you,
The actors are at hand; and, by their show,
You shall know all, that you are like to know.
The.
This fellow doth not stand upon points.
Lys.
He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt;
he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: It
is not enough to speak, but to speak true.
Hip.
Indeed he hath play'd on this prologue, like
a child on a recorder1 note
; a sound, but not in government2 note.
The.
His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing
impair'd, but all disordered. Who is next?
3 noteEnter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show.
Prol.
“Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show;
“But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
-- 111 --
“This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
“This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain.
“This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
“Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder:
“And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are content
“To whisper; at the which let no man wonder.
“This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
“Presenteth moon-shine: for, if you will know,
“By moon-shine did these lovers think no scorn
“To meet at Ninus' tomb2 note
, there, there to woo.
“This grisly beast, which by name lion hight3 note,
“The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
“Did scare away, or rather did affright:
“And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall6 note
;
“Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain 9Q0307:
“Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall,
“And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain:
“Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade7 note
,
-- 112 --
“He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;
“And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
“His dagger drew, and died. 9Q0308 For all the rest,
“Let lion, moon-shine, wall, and lovers twain,
“At large discourse, while here they do remain.”
[Exeunt all but Wall.
The.
I wonder, if the lion be to speak.
Dem.
No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when
many asses do.
Wall.
“In this same interlude, it doth befall,
“That I, one Snout by name, present a wall:
“And such a wall, as I would have you think,
“That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,
“Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
“Did whisper often very secretly.
“This lome, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth shew
“That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
-- 113 --
“And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
“Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.”
The.
Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
Dem.
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard
discourse, my lord8 note.
The.
Pyramus draw near the wall: silence!
Enter Pyramus.
Pyr.
“O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black!
“O night, which ever art, when day is not!
“O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,
“I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!—
“And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
“That stand'st between her father's ground and mine;
“Thou wall, O wall, O sweet 9Q0309 and lovely wall,
“Shew me thy chink to blink through with mine eyne.
“Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!
“But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
“O wicked wall9 note
, through whom I see no bliss;
“Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!”
The.
The wall, methinks, being sensible, should
curse again.
Pyr.
No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving
me, is Thisby's cue; she is to enter now, and I am to
-- 114 --
spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall
pat as I told you:—Yonder she comes.
Enter Thisby.
This.
“O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
“For parting my fair Pyramus and me:
“My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones;
“Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee1 note.”
Pyr.
“I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
“To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face.
“Thisby!”
This.
“My love! thou art my love, I think.”
Pyr.
“Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace;
“And like Limander am I trusty still2 note
.”
This.
“And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.”
Pyr.
“Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.”
This.
“As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.”
Pyr.
“O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.”
This.
“I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.”
Pyr.
“Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?”
This.
“Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.”
Wall.
“Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so;
“And, being done, thus wall away doth go.”.
[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe.
-- 115 --
The.
Now is the mural down between the two
neighbours.
Dem.
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful
to hear without warning3 note
.
Hip.
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The.
The best in this kind are but shadows: and
the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Hip.
It must be your imagination then, and not
theirs.
The.
If we imagine no worse of them, than they of
themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here
come two noble beasts in4 note
, a moon, and a lion.
-- 116 --
Enter Lion and Moonshine.
Lion.
“You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
“The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
“May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
“When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
“Then know, that I, as Snug the joiner, am5 note
“A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam:
“For if I should as lion come in strife
“Into this place, 'twere pity on my life.”
The.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
Dem.
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.
Lys.
This lion is a very fox for his valour.
The.
True; and a goose for his discretion.
Dem.
Not so, my lord: for his valour cannot carry
his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
The.
His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his
valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well:
leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.
Moon.
“This lanthorn doth the horned moon present:”
Dem.
He should have worn the horns on his head.
The.
He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible
within the circumference.
Moon.
“This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;
“Myself the man i'th'moon do seem to be.”
The.
This is the greatest error of all the rest: the
man should be put into the lanthorn; How is it else
the man i'the moon?
Dem.
He dares not come there for the candle: for,
you see, it is already in snuff6 note.
-- 117 --
Hip.
I am aweary of this moon: Would, he would
change!
The.
It appears, by his small light of discretion,
that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all
reason, we must stay the time.
Lys.
Proceed, moon.
Moon.
All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the
lanthorn is the moon: I, the man in the moon; this
thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.
Dem.
Why, all these should be in the lanthorn;
for they are in the moon. But, silence; here comes
Thisbe.
Enter Thisbe.
This.
“This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?”
Lion.
“Oh—”
[The Lion roars. Thisbe runs off.
Dem.
Well roar'd, lion.
The.
Well run, Thisbe.
Hip.
Well shone, moon.—Truly, the moon shines
with a good grace.
The.
Well mous'd, lion.
Dem.
And then came Pyramus.
Lys.
And so the lion vanish'd.
Enter Pyramus.
Pyr.
“Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
“I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright:
“For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams7 note,
“I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
“But stay;—O spight!
“But mark;—Poor knight,
“What dreadful dole is here?
“Eyes, do you see?
“How can it be?
-- 118 --
“O dainty duck! O dear!
“Thy mantle good,
“What, stain'd with blood?
“Approach, ye furies fell!
“O fates! come, come;
“Cut thread and thrum8 note
;
“Quail, crush, conclude, and quell9 note
!”
The.
This passion, and the death of a dear friend,
would go near to make a man look sad.
Hip.
Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr.
“O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame?
“Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear:
“Which is—no, no—which was the fairest dame,
“That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd, with cheer.
“Come tears, confound;
“Out sword, and wound
“The pap of Pyramus:
“Ay, that left pap,
“Where heart doth hop:—
“Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
“Now am I dead,
“Now am I fled;
“My soul is in the sky:
-- 119 --
“Tongue, lose thy light!
“Moon, take thy flight!
“Now die, die, die, die, die.
[Dies. Exit Moonshine.
Dem.
No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
Lys.
Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he
is nothing.
The.
With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover,
and prove an ass1 note.
Hip.
How chance the moonshine is gone, before
Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
The.
She will find him by star-light.—
Enter Thisbe.
Here she comes, and her passion ends the play.
Hip.
Methinks, she should not use a long one, for
such a Pyramus: I hope, she will be brief.
Dem.
A moth will turn the ballance, which Pyramus,
which Thisbe, is the better2 note
.
Lys.
She hath spied him already, with those sweet eyes.
Dem.
And thus she moans, videlicet3 note.—
This.
“Asleep, my love?
“What, dead, my dove?
“O Pyramus, arise,
-- 120 --
“Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
“Dead, dead? A tomb
“Must cover thy sweet eyes.
“These lilly brows4 note
,
“This cherry nose,
“These yellow cowslip cheeks,
“Are gone, are gone:
“Lovers, make moan!
“His eyes were green as leeks.
“O sisters three,
“Come, come, to me,
“With hands as pale as milk;
“Lay them in gore5 note,
“Since you have shore
“With shears his thread of silk.
“Tongue, not a word:—
“Come, trusty sword;
“Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
“And farewel, friends;—
“Thus Thisby ends:
“Adieu, adieu, adieu.”
[Dies.
-- 121 --
The.
Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead.
Dem.
Ay, and wall too.
Bot.
No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted
their fathers. 6 noteWill it please you to see the epilogue,
or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two
of our company7 note
?
The.
No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs
no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are
all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if
he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hang'd
himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine
tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharg'd.
But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone.
[Here a dance of Clowns.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:—
Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
I fear, we shall out-sleep the coming morn,
As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd
The heavy 8 notegait of night.—Sweet friends, to bed.—
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity.
[Exeunt.
-- 122 --
SCENE II.
Enter Puck.
Puck.
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf beholds the moon4 note
;
-- 123 --
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone5 note
.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his spright,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecat's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolick; not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent, with broom, before6 note
,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
-- 124 --
Enter King and Queen of Fairies, with their train.
Ob.
Through this house give glimmering light7 note
,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf, and fairy sprite,
Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,
Sing and dance it trippingly.
Tit.
First, rehearse this song by rote:
To each word a warbling note,
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.
Song and Dance.
Ob.
Now, until the break of day8 note
,
Through this house each fairy stray.
-- 125 --
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue, there create,
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be:
And the blots of nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious8 note
, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.—
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every fairy take his gate9 note
;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace:
Ever shall it safely rest,
And the owner of it blest.
-- 126 --
Trip away;
Make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day.
[Exeunt King1 note, Queen, and train.
Puck.
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended)
That you have but slumber'd here,
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I'm an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck2 note
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue3 note
,
We will make amends, ere long:
Else the Puck a liar call.
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends4 note,
And Robin shall restore amends.
[Exit5.
