Charles Kean [1856], Shakespeare's play of a Midsummer Night's Dream arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, with historical and explanatory notes, by Charles Kean. As first performed on Wednesday, October 15th, 1856 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S36000].
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A Midsummer Night's Dream
note
Introductory matter
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Theseus, (Prince of Athens) | Mr. RYDER. |
Egeus, (Father to Hermia) | Mr. GRAHAM. |
Lysander, (in love with Hermia) | Mr. J. F. CATHCART. |
Demetrius, (in love with Hermia) | Mr. BRAZIER. |
Philostrate, (Master of the Revels to Theseus) | Mr. BUTLER. |
Quince, (the Carpenter) | Mr. F. MATTHEWS. |
Snug, (the Joiner) | Mr. F. COOKE. |
Bottom, (the Weaver) | Mr. HARLEY. |
Flute, (the Bellows-mender) | Mr. SAKER. |
Snout, (the Tinker) | Mr. MEADOWS. |
Starveling, (the Tailor) | Mr. BARSBY. |
Hippolyta, (Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus) | Miss MURRAY. |
Hermia, (Daughter of Egeus, in love with Lysander) | Miss BUFTON. |
Helena, (in love with Demetrius) | Miss HEATH. |
Oberon, (King of the Fairies) | Miss F. TERNAN. |
Titania, (Queen of the Fairies) | Miss C. LECLERCQ. |
Puck, or Robin Goodfellow (a Fairy) | Miss Ellen TERRY. |
| First Singing Fairy [Fairy 1], | Miss Marian TAYLOR. |
| Second Singing Fairy [Fairy 2], | Miss Laura HONEY. |
| Another Fairy [Fairy], | Miss R. LECLERCQ. |
Fairy, (Who joins in Titania's Dance) | Miss DESBOROUGH. |
Fairy, (Who joins in Titania's Dance) | Miss. C. ADAMS. |
Fairy, (Who joins in Titania's Dance) | Miss Kate TERRY. |
Fairy, (Who joins in Titania's Dance) | Miss STARTIN. |
Peas-blossom [Peaseblossom], (Fairy) | Miss E. EDMONDS. |
Cobweb, (Fairy) | Miss A. SMITH. |
Moth, (Fairy) | Miss E. Grey. |
Mustard-seed [Mustardseed], (Fairy) | Miss J. WARTON. |
Pyramus, Character in the Interlude performed by the Clowns. |
Thisbe [Thisby], Character in the Interlude performed by the Clowns. |
Wall, Character in the Interlude performed by the Clowns. |
Moonshine, Character in the Interlude performed by the Clowns. |
Lion, Character in the Interlude performed by the Clowns. |
Other Fairies attending their King and Queen. Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta.
[Chorus], [Fairy 3], [Fairy 4], [Prologue]
Scene—ATHENS, and a Wood not far from it.
-- iv --
The Scenery under the Direction of Mr. GRIEVE, and Painted by Mr. GRIEVE, Mr. W. GORDON,
Mr. F. LLOYDS, Mr. CUTHBERT, Mr. DAYES, Mr. MORRIS, And numerous Assistants. The Music under the direction of
Mr. J. L. HATTON. The Dances and Action, by Mr. OSCAR BYRN. The Decorations &
Appointments by Mr. E. W. BRADWELL. The Dresses by Mrs. and Miss HOGGINS.
The Machinery by Mr. G. HODSON. Perruquier, Mr. ASPLIN, of No. 13, New Bond Street.
note
-- v --
PREFACE.
A Midsummer-Night's Dream was, according to the
best authorities, written by Shakespeare, at a period
of life when his creative mind “glowed with all the
warmth of a youthful and lively imagination.” The
poet did not search into history or tradition for the
story, but, relying solely on his own exquisite genius,
bequeathed to posterity one of “those unparalleled
compositions which have rendered him the delight
and wonder of successive ages.”
Apart from the supernatural agencies, which relate
to the quarrels of Oberon, the Fairy Monarch, and
his Queen Titania, the classical figures of Theseus
and Hippolyta stand forward as the chief human personages
of this most harmonious of dramas. Nevertheless,
the general character of the play is so far
from historical, that while I have made Athens and
its neighbourhood the subject of illustration, I have
held myself unfettered with regard to chronology.
Indeed, sufficient is not known of the details of
Greek life and architecture in the time of Theseus
to render complete (or proximate) accuracy possible,
even if a theatrical representation of the period
were attempted.
It may be added, that the buildings existing in
Athens during that early age (twelve hundred years
before the Christian era), were most probably rude
in construction, were formed of the simplest materials,
and retained the Egyptian features introduced
-- vi --
by Cecrops, the mythical founder of the city. Such
edifices could have nothing in common with the
impressions of Greek civilization that exist in every
educated mind.
Influenced by these considerations, I have selected
a later period, in the hope of conveying an idea of
Athens as it would have appeared to one of its
own inhabitants, at a time when it had attained its
greatest splendour in literature and in art—when it
stood in its pride and glory, ennobled by a race of
illustrious men, and containing the most beautiful
objects the world had ever seen.
The Acropolis, on its rocky eminence, surrounded
by marble Temples, has been restored, together with
the Theatre of Bacchus, wherein multitudes once
thronged to listen to the majestic poetry of Æschylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides; and near which
stands that memorable hill from whence the words
of sacred truth were first promulgated to the
Athenian citizens by apostolic inspiration.
A portion of the music, hitherto introduced in
the “Midsummer-Night's Dream,” will be retained
(under the direction of Mr. J. L. Hatton), with the
addition of the overtures, entr' actes, and airs composed
expressly for this play by the late Dr. Felix
Mendelssohn Bartholdy, and pronounced to be
amongst the most successful efforts of that celebrated
master.
CHARLES KEAN.
-- 7 --
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
—A TERRACE ADJOINING THE PALACE
OF THESEUS, OVERLOOKING THE CITY OF ATHENS.(A)8Q0192
Enter Theseus,(B)8Q0193 Hippolyta,(C)8Q0194 Philostrate, and Attendants.
The.
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon: but, oh, methinks, how slow
This old moon wanes.
Hip.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.
The.
Go, Philostrate,
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals,
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
[Exit Philostrate.
Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph,1 note and with revelry.
-- 8 --
Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.
Ege.
Happy be Theseus, our renowned prince!
The.
Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with thee?
Ege.
Full of vexation come I, with complaint
Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
Stand forth, Demetrius;—My noble lord,
This man hath my consent to marry her:
Stand forth, Lysander;—and my gracious prince,
This man hath witch'd the bosom of my child:
Turn'd her obedience which is due to me,
To stubborn hardness:—And, my gracious lord,
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.
Her.
I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts:
But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befal me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
The.
Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;
Take time to pause: and, by the next new moon
(The sealing-day betwixt my love and me),
Upon that day either prepare to die,
For disobedience to your father's will,
Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would:
Or on Diana's altar to protest,
For aye, austerity and single life.
Lys.
I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd;
And, which is more,
I am belov'd of Hermia:
-- 9 --
Why should not I, then, prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes,—dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted2 note and inconstant man.
The.
I must confess, that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
But, being over-full of self-affairs,
My mind did lose it.—But, Demetrius, come;
And come, Egeus, you shall go with me,
I have some private schooling for you both.—
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To sit your fancies to your father's will:
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
To death, or to a vow of single life.—
Come, my Hippolyta.
[Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, Demetrius, and train.
Lys.
How now, my love? Why are your cheeks so pale?
Her.
Belike, for want of rain; which I could well
Beteem them3 note from the tempest of mine eyes.
Lys.
Ah me! for ought that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth:
But, either it was different in blood;
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it;
Making it momentary as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,4 note
-- 10 --
That, in a spleen,5 note unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say—Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.
Her.
If thus true lovers have been ever cross'd,
Then let us teach our trial patience.
Lys.
A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia.
I have a widow aunt,
Of great revenue, and she hath no child:
From Athens is her house remote seven leagues.
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 to-morrow night;
And in the wood,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
There will I stay for thee.
Her.
My good Lysander!
I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow;
By the simplicity of Venus' doves;
By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke;—
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys.
Keep promise, love: Look, here comes Helena.
Enter Helena.
Her.
How now, fair Helena! Whither away?
Hel.
Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.
Her.
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
Hel.
O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
Her.
The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel.
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
-- 11 --
Her.
Take comfort; he no more shall see my face;
Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Lys.
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
To-morrow night, when Phœbe doth behold
Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass
(A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal),
Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal.
Her.
And in the wood, where often you and I
Upon faint6 note primrose-beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet;7 note
There my Lysander and myself shall meet:
And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes,
To seek new friends and stranger companies.
Farewell, sweet playfellow; pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!—
Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight.
[Exit Hermia.
Lys.
I will, my Hermia.—Helena, adieu:
As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!
[Exit Lysander.
Hel.
How happy some, o'er other some can be!
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 Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
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 love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
As waggish boys in game8 note themselves forswear,
-- 12 --
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where:
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,9 note
He hail'd down oaths, that 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 dear recompense:
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither, and back again.
[Exit.
Scene II.
—WORKSHOP OF QUINCE, THE CARPENTER.
The Furniture and Tools introduced in this Scene are copied from discoveries at Herculaneum.
Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, and Starveling.10 note
Qui.
Is all our company here?
Bot.
You were best to call them generally, man by man,
according to the scrip.11 note
-- 13 --
Qui.
Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is
thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude
before the Prince and his bride on his wedding-day at night.
Bot.
First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats
on.
Qui.
Marry, our play is—The most lamentable comedy,
and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.
Bot.
A very good piece of work, I assure you,
and a merry.12 note Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your
actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves.13 note
Qui.
Answer, as I call you.—Nick Bottom, the weaver.
Bot.
Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed.
Qui.
You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
Bot.
What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant?
Qui.
A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.
Bot.
That will ask some tears in the true performing of
it: If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes. Yet
my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles14 note
rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
“The raging rocks,
“With shivering shocks,
“Shall break the locks
“Of prison-gates:
“And Phibbus'15 note car
“Shall shine from far,
“And make and mar
“The foolish fates.”
This was lofty!—Now name the rest of the players.
Qui.
Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.16 note
Flu.
Here, Peter Quince.
-- 14 --
Qui.
You must take Thisby on you.
Flu.
What is Thisby? a wandering knight?
Qui.
It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
Flu.
Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a
beard coming.
Qui.
That's all one.
Bot.
Let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous
little voice;—Thisne, Thisne,—Ah, Pyramus, my lover
dear; thy Thisby dear! and lady dear!
Qui.
No, no; you must play Pyramus, and, Flute, you
Thisby.
Bot.
Well, proceed.
Qui.
Robin Starveling, the tailor.
Sta.
Here, Peter Quince.
Qui.
Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.
—Tom Snout, the tinker.
Sno.
Here, Peter Quince.
Qui.
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.
Qui.
You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but
roaring.
Bot.
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 Prince say, Let him roar again, Let him roar again.
Qui.
An you should do it too terribly, you would fright
the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to
hang us all.
All.
That would hang us every mother's son.
Bot.
I 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 gentle as any sucking dove; I will roar you
an 'twere17 note any nightingale.
Qui.
You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus
is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a
-- 15 --
summer's day; a most lovely, gentleman-like man; therefore
you must needs play Pyramus.
Bot.
Well, I will undertake it.
Qui.
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 moon-light; there will we rehearse: for if we
meet in the city, we shall be dogg'd with company, and our
devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of
properties,18 note such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me
not.
Bot.
We will meet; and there we may rehearse more
obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; be perfect;
adieu.
Qui.
At the prince's oak we meet.
Bot.
Enough; Hold, or cut bow-strings.19 note
[Exeunt Quince, Bottom, and others.
END OF ACT FIRST.
-- 16 --
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT FIRST.
note
note
-- 17 --
note
-- 18 --
ACT II.
Scene I.
—A WOOD NEAR ATHENS.
MOONLIGHT.
Enter a Fairy, and 2nd Singing Fairy.
Fai.
How now, spirit! whither wander you?
SONG.
2nd Fai.
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough briar,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander every where,
Swifter than the moones sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:1 note
The cowslips tall, her pensioners be,
In their gold coats spots you see.
Farewell, thou dainty spirit, I'll be gone;
Our queen and all our elves come here anon.
Fai.
The king doth keep his revels here to-night;
Take heed, the queen come not within his sight.
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy, stol'n from an Indian king:
She never had so sweet a changeling:2 note
-- 19 --
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild:
But she, perforce, withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy:
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled star-light sheen,3 note
But they do square;4 note that all their elves, for fear,
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.
2nd Fai.
Either I mistake his shape and making quite,
Or hither comes that shrewd and knavish sprite,
Call'd Robin Good-fellow;(A)8Q0195
[Puck rises on a mushroom—Music.
Are you not he,
That fright the maidens of the villagery;
And sometimes make the drink to bear no barm;5 note
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,(B)8Q0196
You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
Are not you he?
Puck.
Fairy; thou speak'st aright:
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab;6 note
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And, on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale.
Sometime for three-foot stool she taketh me;
Then slip I from her seat, down topples she,
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh;
But room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.
2nd Fai.
And here my mistress:—'Would that he were gone!
[Music.
-- 20 --
Enter Oberon(C)8Q0197, with his train, and Titania(D)8Q0198, with hers, at opposite sides.
Obe.
Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania.
Tit.
What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence;
Why art thou here,
Come from the farthest steep of India?
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be wedded; and you come
To give them both joy and prosperity.
Obe.
How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
Tit.
These are the forgeries of jealousy;
And never, since the middle summer's spring,7 note
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Obe.
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my henchman.(E)8Q0199
Tit.
Set your heart at rest,
Thy fairy land buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot'ress of my order:
And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
Full often hath she gossip'd by my side;
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
And, for her sake, I do rear up her boy:
And, for her sake, I will not part with him.
Obe.
How long within this wood intend you stay?
Tit.
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.
-- 21 --
Obe.
Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.
Tit.
Not for thy Fairy kingdom.—Fairies, away:
We shall chide down-right, if I longer stay.
[Music.
[Exeunt Titania, and her train.
Obe.
Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove,
Till I torment thee for this injury.—
My gentle Puck, come hither: Thou remember'st
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,8 note
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song;
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's musick.
Puck.
I remember.
Obe.
That very time I saw (but thou could'st not),
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;9 note
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 in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon;
And the imperial votress passed on,
-- 22 --
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.10 note
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell 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 I show'd thee once;
The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that is seen.
Fetch me this herb: and be thou here again,
Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
Puck.
I'd put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
[Music—Exit Puck.
Obe.
Having once this juice,
I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she waking looks upon,
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm off from her sight,
I'll make her render up her page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.
Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
Dem.
Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia?
Thou told'st me, they were stol'n into this wood;
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
You do impeach your modesty11 note too much
To leave the city, and commit yourself
Into the hands of one that loves you not.
Hel.
Your virtue is my privilege for that.12 note
It is not night, when I do see your face,
Therefore I think I am not in the night:
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company;
For you, in my respect, are all the world:
-- 23 --
Then how can it be said, I am alone,
When all the world is here to look on me?
Dem.
I will not stay thy question;13 note let me go:
Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
[Exit.
Hel.
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
You do me mischief. Demetrius!
I'll follow thee, and
Die upon the hand14 note I love so well.
[Exit Helena.
Obe.
Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
[Music.
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,
Where ox-lips15 note
and the nodding violet grows;16 note
There sleeps the Fairy Queen, some time of the night,
Lull'd in these bowers with dances and delight;
And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
And make her full of hateful fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
But do it, when the next thing he espies
May be the lady: Thou shalt know the man
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care; that he may prove
More fond on her, than she upon her love:
-- 24 --
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
Puck.
Fear not, my lord. your servant shall do so.
[Music. Oberon glides away.
Scene II.
—TITANIA'S BOWER. ANOTHER PART OF THE WOOD.
Titania and Fairies Dance.
Tit.
Come, a fairy song; sing me now asleep;
Then to your offices, and let me rest.
SONG AND CHORUS.
1st Fai.
You spotted snakes, with double tongue,17 note
Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;
Newts,18 note and blind-worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.
CHORUS.
Philomel, with melody,
Sing in our sweet lullably;
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harm, nor spell nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;
So good night, with lullaby.
1st Fai.
Weaving spiders come not here;
Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence:
Beetles black, approach not near;
Worm, nor snail do no offence.
CHORUS.
Philomel, with melody, &c.
1st Fai.
Hence, away; now all is well:
One, aloof, stand sentinel.
[Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps.
-- 25 --
Enter Oberon. Music.
INCANTATION.
Obe.
What thou seest, when thou dost wake,
[Squeezes the flower on Titania's eye-lids.
Do it for thy true-love take;
Love, and languish for his sake:
Be it ounce,19 note or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
When thou wak'st, it is thy dear;
Wake, when some vile thing is near.
[Music. Exit.
Enter Lysander and Hermia.
Lys.
Fair Love, you faint with wandering in the wood:
And to speak truth, I have forgot our way;
We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Her.
Be it so, Lysander, find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.
And good night, sweet friend:
Thy love ne'er alter, till thy sweet life end!
Lys.
Amen, Amen, to that fair prayer say I;
And then end life, when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed: Sleep give thee all his rest!
Her.
With half that wish the wisher's eye be press'd!
[They sleep.
Enter Puck. Music.
Puck.
Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none,
Night and silence! who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
-- 26 --
Churl, upon thine eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe:20 note
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eye-lid.
So awake, when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.
[Music. Exit.
Enter Demetrius and Helena, hastily.
Hel.
Stay, tho' thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
Dem.
I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
Hel.
O, wilt thou darkling21 note leave me? do not so.
Dem.
Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.
[Exit Demetrius.
Hel.
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace22 note
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
But who is here?—Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound:—
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.
Lys.
And run through fire I will, for thy sweet sake.
[Waking.
Transparent Helena! Nature here shows art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!
Hel.
Do not say so, Lysander; say not so,
What though he love your Hermia? Yet, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.
Lys.
Content with Hermia? No: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena now I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
-- 27 --
Hel.
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough? is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do.
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well: perforce I must confess.
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.23 note
O, that a lady, of one man refus'd,
Should, of another, therefore be abus'd!
[Exit.
Lys.
She sees not Hermia:—Hermia, sleep thou there;
And never may'st thou come Lysander near!
And all my powers, address your love and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her knight!
[Exit.
Her. (starting.)
Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best,
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ah me, for pity!—what a dream was here?
Lysander, look, how I do quake with fear!
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey:—
Lysander! what, remov'd? Lysander, dear!
Alack, where are you? speak, an if you hear;
No?—then I well perceive you are not nigh:
Either death, or you, I'll find immediately.
[Exit.
Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.(F)8Q0200
Bot.
Are we all met?
Qui.
Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous 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 Prince.
Bot.
Peter Quince—
-- 28 --
Qui.
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?
Sno.
By'rlakin, a parlous fear.24 note
Sta.
I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.
Sno.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Sta.
I fear it, I promise you.
Bot.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to
bring in 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.
Sno.
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 not to fear, not to tremble.
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.(G)8Q0201
Qui.
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.
Bot.
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.
Qui.
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 lime, or some rough-cast about
him, to signify wall; and let him hold his fingers thus, and
through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.
-- 29 --
Qui.
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 your speech, enter into that
brake;25 note and so every one according to his cue.
Enter Puck, behind. Music.
Qui.
Speak, Pyramus:—Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr.
Thisby, the flowers have odious savours sweet,—
Qui.
Odours, odours.
Pyr.
&lblank; odours savours sweet:
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.—
But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while,
And by and by I will to thee appear.
[Music. Exeunt Puck and Bottom.
Flute.
Must I speak now?
Qui.
Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand,
he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come
again.
Thi.
Most radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal,26 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.
Qui.
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.27 note—Pyramus enter; your cue is past;
it is never tire.
Re-enter Puck, waving his hand, and then retires; and
Bottom, with an ass's head. Music.
Thi.
O,—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
Pyr.
If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine:—
-- 30 --
Qui.
O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray,
masters! fly, masters! help!
[Exeunt Clowns.
Bot.
Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them,
to make me afeard.
Re-enter Snout.
Sno.
O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee?
An ass's head?
Bot.
What do you see? you see an ass's head of your
own: Do you?
Re-enter Quince.
Qui.
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 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,28 note so black of hue,
With orange-tawney bill,
The throstle29 note with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;
Tit.
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed.
[Waking.
Bot.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain song cuckoo30 note gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay.
Tit.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
-- 31 --
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
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.
Tit.
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.
Tit.
Out of this wood do not desire to go;
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
For I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee.
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
[Music.
Enter Four Fairies.
1st Fai.
Ready.
2nd Fai.
And I.
3rd Fai.
And I.
4th Fai.
And I.
All.
Where shall we go?
Tit.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1st Fai.
Hail, mortal!
2nd Fai.
Hail!
3rd Fai.
Hail!
4th Fai.
Hail!
Bot.
I cry your worships' mercy, heartily. I beseech,
your worship's name.
Cob.
Cobweb.
Bot.
I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master
Cobweb: If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with
you.—Your name, honest gentleman?
Pea.
Peas-blossom.
Bot.
Peas-blossom, I shall desire more acquaintance.—
Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Mus.
Mustard-seed.
-- 32 --
Bot.
Good master Mustard-seed, I know you well: I
promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere
now.
Tit.
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye;
Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.
[Music—Exeunt.
END OF ACT SECOND.
-- 33 --
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT SECOND.
note
-- 34 --
note
note
note
note
-- 35 --
note
note
-- 36 --
ACT III.
Scene I.
—ANOTHER PART OF THE WOOD.
Oberon discovered. Music.
Obe.
I wonder if Titania be awak'd;
Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.
Enter Puck. Music.
Here comes my messenger.—How now, mad spirit?
What night-rule1 note now about this haunted grove?
Puck.
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches,2 note rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport,
An ass's nowl3 note I fixed on his head;
So, at his sight, away his fellows fled:
When in that moment (so it came to pass)
Titania wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.
-- 37 --
Obe.
This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latch'd4 note the Athenian's eyes
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
Puck.
I took him sleeping,—that is finish'd too,—
And the Athenian woman by his side;
That, when he wak'd, of force she must be eye'd.
Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
Obe.
Stand close; this is the same Athenian.
Puck.
This is the woman, but not this the man.
Dem.
O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe?
Her.
Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse;
For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Then kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day,
As he to me: Would he have stol'n away
From sleeping Hermia?
Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men!
Dem.
You spend your passion in a mispris'd flood:5 note
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
Her.
I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
Dem.
An if I could, what should I get therefore?
Her.
A privilege, never to see me more.—
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
[Exit.
Dem.
There is no following her in this fierce vein:
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow,
For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe.
[Lies down.
Obe.
What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight:
About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens look thou find:
-- 38 --
By some illusion see thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear.
Puck.
I go, I go: look, how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
[Exit. Music.
INCANTATION.
Obe.
Flower of this purple die,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.—
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.
Re-enter Puck.
Puck.
Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand,
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee;
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Obe.
Stand aside: the noise they make,
Will cause Demetrius to awake.
Enter Lysander and Helena.
Lys.
Why should you think, that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears:
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
Hel.
You do advance your cunning more and more.
These vows are Hermia's; Will you give her o'er?
Lys.
I had no judgment, when to her I swore.
Hel.
Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.
Lys.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [awaking.]
O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect,
divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Hel.
O spiteful fate! I see you all are bent
To set against me for your merriment.
-- 39 --
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena:
A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes.
Lys.
You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know:
And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love, and will do to my death.
Hel.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.
My heart with her but, as guest-wise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helen is it home return'd,
There to remain.
Lys.
Helen, it is not so.
Dem.
Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.—
Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
Enter Hermia.
Her.
Oh! why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Lys.
Why should he stay whom love doth press to go?
Her.
What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lys.
Lysander's love, that would not let him bide;
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery oes6 note and eyes of light.
Her.
You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
Hel.
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
-- 40 --
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us,—O, and is all forgot?
All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
Did we not Hermia grow together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,
Two loving berries moulded on one stem?
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault;
Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.
Lys.
Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena;
Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do.
Dem.
I say, I love thee more than he can do.
Lys.
If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right,
Or thine or mine, is most in Helena.
Dem.
Follow? nay, I'll go with thee.
[Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius.
Her.
I am amaz'd, and know not what to say;
You canker blossom, have you come by night,
And stol'n my love's heart from him? Fine, i'faith!
Hel.
Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me:
I evermore did love you, Hermia;
Did ever keep your counsels; never wrong'd you:
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood:
He followed you; for love I followed him;
But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me,
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further.
[Exit Helena.
Her.
Get you gone:
Here will I rest me till the break of day:—
Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!
[Lies down on bank.—Music.
Obe.
This is thy negligence: still thou mistak'st,
Or else commit'st thy knaveries wilfully.
-- 41 --
Puck.
Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me, I should know the man
By the Athenian garments he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprize,
That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes.
Obe.
Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight;
Hie, therefore, Robin, overcast the night:
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;
And lead these testy rivals so astray,
As one come not within another's way;
Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep,
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:
Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
Whose liquor hath such virtuous property,7 note
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream, and fruitless vision;
About it, Spirit, haste, make no delay,
We may effect this business yet ere day.
SONG.
Obe.
Up and down, up and down;
Spirit lead them up and down:
Thou art fear'd in field and town;
Goblin, lead them up and down.
[Exit Oberon.—Music.
[Puck waves his hand, and a thick fog pervades the scene.
Enter Lysander.
Lys.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou
now.
Puck.
Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?
Lys.
I will be with thee straight.
Puck.
Follow me, then,
To plainer ground.
[Exit Lysander, as following the voice.
-- 42 --
Enter Demetrius.
Dem.
Lysander, speak again.
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speak. In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
Puck.
Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
And wilt not come?
Dem.
Yea, art thou there?
Puck.
Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here.
[Exeunt.
Re-enter Lysander.
Lys.
He goes before me, and still dares me on:
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter heel'd than I:
I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly;
Once let gentle day show me her grey light,
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite.
[Exit.
Re-enter Puck and Demetrius.
Puck.
Ho, ho! ho, ho!—Coward, why com'st thou not?
Dem.
Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot,
Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place;
And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face.
Where art thou now?
Puck.
Come hither; I am here.
Dem.
Nay, then thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this dear,
If ever I thy face by daylight see:
Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed;
By day's approach look to be visited.
[Lies down and sleeps.—Music.
[The mist clears off, and discovers the Forest.
Demetrius, Lysander, Helena, and Hermia
asleep on separate banks. Puck advances,
and touches the eyes of each with the magic herb.
-- 43 --
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.
On the ground
Sleep sound:
We'll apply
To your eye,
Gentle lover, remedy.
[Puck squeezing the juice on Lysander's eye.
When thou wak'st,
Thou tak'st
True delight
In the sight
Of thy former lady's eye:
And the country proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
In your waking shall be shown:
Jack shall have Jill;
Nought shall go ill;
The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
DANCE OF FAIRIES.
END OF ACT THIRD.
-- 44 --
ACT IV.
Scene I.
—TITANIA'S BOWER.
Titania and Bottom, Fairies attending.
Music.
Tit.
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,1 note
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek, smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Bot.
Where's Peas-blossom?
Pea.
Ready.
Bot.
Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.—Where's Cobweb?
Cob.
Ready.
Bot.
Good Cobweb, get your weapons in your hand, and
kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle;
and, good Cobweb, bring me the honey-bag. Where's
Mustard-seed?
Mus.
Ready.
Bot.
Give me your neif,2 note Mustard-seed.
Mus.
What's your will?
Bot.
Nothing, good sir, but to help Peas-blossom to
scratch. I must to the barber's; for, methinks, I am marvellous
hairy about the face: and I am such a tender ass,
if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
Tit.
What, wilt thou hear some music?
Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat?
Bot.
Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your
good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to a bottle
of hay; good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
-- 45 --
Tit.
I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
Bot.
I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas.
But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an
exposition of sleep come upon me.
Tit.
Fairies, begone, and be a while away.3 note
[Exeunt Fairies.
[They sleep. Music.
Oberon advances. Enter Puck.
Obe.
Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity.
For meeting her of late, behind the wood,
She, in mild terms, did beg my patience;
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
INCANTATION.
Be, as thou was wont to be;
[Touching her eyes with an herb.
See, as thou was wont to see:
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower4 note
Hath such force and blessed power.
Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.
Tit.
My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
Methought, I was enamour'd of an ass.
Obe.
There lies your love.
Tit.
How came these things to pass?
O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now!
Obe.
Silence, a while.—Robin take off this head.—
[Puck takes the ass's head off Bottom, and flies away.
-- 46 --
Obe.
Sound, musick. [Music.] Come, my queen, take hands with me;
Now thou and I are new in amity;
We will, to-morrow midnight, solemnly,
Dance in Prince Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair posterity.
TRIO.
1st Fai.
Fairy king, attend and mark;
I do hear the morning lark.
Obe.
Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.
2nd Fai.
Fairy king, attend and mark,
I do hear the morning lark.
1st Fai.
Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
Sleeping here our queen was found,
With this mortal on the ground.
[Exeunt.
[As they go out Bottom awakes.
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! 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,5 note if he will offer to say
what methought 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 the
play, before the prince: Peradventure, to make it the more
gracious, I shall sing it at Thisbe's death.
[Exit.
-- 47 --
Scene II.
—ATHENS. INTERIOR OF QUINCE'S HOUSE.
Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, Starveling, and Snug.
Qui.
Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come
home yet?
Sta.
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?
Qui.
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.
Qui.
Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very
paramour, for a sweet voice.
Flu.
You must say, paragon: a paramour is, Heaven
bless us, a thing of nought.
Snug.
If our sport had gone forward, we had all been
made men.
Enter Bottom.
Bot.
Where are these lads? where are these hearts?
Qui.
Bottom!—O most courageous day! O most happy
hour!
Bot.
Masters I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not
what; for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell
you every thing, right as it fell out.
Qui.
Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
Bot.
Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is—Get
your apparel together; and 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, most dear actors, eat no onions, nor garlick; 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.
-- 48 --
Scene III.
—THE WOOD AS IN LAST ACT.
SUNRISE.
Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia, and Helena
discovered asleep. Horns heard without.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.
The.
Go, one of you, find out the forester;—
And since we have the vaward of the day,6 note
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley; go;
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top,
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
Hip.
I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once,
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear
Such gallant chiding;7 note for, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
The.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flew'd,8 note so sanded:9 note and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
-- 49 --
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:
Judge, when you hear.—But, soft; what nymphs are these?
Ege.
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;
And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena:
I wonder of their being here together.
The.
Speak, good Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Ege.
It is, my Lord.
The.
Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
No doubt, that they, hearing of our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.—
[Horns sound. Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia,
and Helena, wake and start up.
The.
Good morrow, friends.
Lys.
Pardon, my lord.
[He and the rest kneel to Theseus.
The.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you are two rival enemies;
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 I think,
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.
Dem.
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
And I in fury hither follow'd them:
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
My love to Hermia seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gawd,10 note
-- 50 --
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena.
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,
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, my Hippolyta.
[Horns sound.
[Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.
END OF ACT FOURTH.
-- 51 --
ACT V.
Scene I.
—ATHENS. INTERIOR OF THE PALACE OF THESEUS.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, Lords and Attendants.
Hip.
'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.
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.
Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
Enter Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.
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 home!
The.
Come now: what masks, what dances shall we have?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
-- 52 --
What revels are in hand?
Call Philostrate.
Phi.
Here, mighty Theseus.
The.
Say, what abridgment1 note have you for this evening?
What mask? what musick?
Phi.
There is a brief,2 note how many sports are ripe;
Make choice of which your highness will see first.
[Giving a paper to Lysander.
Lys. (reads)
—The battle with the Centaurs to be sung
By an Athenian Minstrel to the harp.
The.
We'll none of that: that have I told my love,
In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
Lys.
The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.
The.
That is an old device, and it was play'd
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
Lys.
A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus,
And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.
The.
Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?
How shall we find the concord of this discord?
Phi.
A play there is, my lord,
Which is as brief as I have known a play;
And tragical, my noble lord, it is;
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
The.
What are they that do play it?
Phi.
Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,
And now have toil'd their unbreath'd3 note memories
With this same play, against your nuptial.
The.
And we will hear it.
Phi.
No, my noble lord,
It is not for you: I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find sport in their intents.
-- 53 --
The.
I will hear that play;
For never anything can be amiss,
When simpleness and duty tender it.
Go, bring them in; and take your places, ladies.
[Exit Philostrate.
Hip.
He says, they can do nothing in this kind.
The.
The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.
Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake.
Enter Philostrate.
Phi.
So please your grace, the prologue is addrest.4 note
The.
Let him approach.
[Flourish of trumpets.5 note]
Enter Quince as Prologue.
Pro.
“If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you should think, we come not to offend,
But with good will. To show 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. His speech
was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered.
Who is next?
Enter Snout as Wall.
Wall.
“In this same interlude, it doth befall,
“That I, one Snout by name present a wall:
“Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
“Did whisper often very secretly.
“And this the cranny, is right and sinister,
“Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.”
-- 54 --
Dem.
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse,
my lord.
The.
Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
Enter Bottom, as 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!
“Shew me thy chink,
“O sweet and lovely wall.
[Wall holds up his fingers.
“Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this,
“But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
“O wicked wall, 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 spy her
through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told
you:—Yonder she comes.
Enter Flute, as Thisbe.
Thi.
“O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
“My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones.”
Pyr.
“I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
“To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face.
“Thisby!”
Thi.
“My love! thou art my love, I think.”
Pyr.
“Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace.
O, kiss me through the chink of this vile wall.”
Thi.
“I kiss the wall, but not your lips at all.”
Pyr.
“Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?”
Thi.
“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.
-- 55 --
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 in, a man and a lion.
Enter Snug, as the Lion, and Starveling, as Moonshine.
Bundle of Faggots, Lantern,6 note and Dog.
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, one Snug the joiner, am
“A lion's fell,7 note 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.
Moon.
“This lantern doth the horned moon present;
“Myself the man 'i th' moon do seem to be.”
The.
The man should be put into the lantern: How is it
else the man i' the moon?
Hip.
I am weary of this moon: Would he would change.
The.
Proceed, Moon.
Moon.
All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the
lantern 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 lantern; for they
are in the moon. But, silence; here comes Thisbe.
Enter Flute, as Thisbe.
Thi.
“This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?”
Lion.
“Oh—.”
[The Lion roars.—Thisbe runs off.
-- 56 --
Dem.
Well roared, lion.
The.
Well run, Thisbe.
Hip.
Well shone, moon.—Truly the moon shines with a
good grace.
The.
Well moused, lion.8 note
[The Lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit.
Dem.
And so comes Pyramus.
Lys.
And then the moon vanishes.
Enter Bottom, as 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 streams,
“I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
“But stay;—O spite!
“But mark;—Poor knight,
“What dreadful dole is here?
“Eyes, do you see?
“How can it be?
“O dainty duck! O dear!
“Thy mantle good,
“What, stain'd with blood?
“Approach, ye furies fell!
“O fates! come, come;
“Cut thread and thrum;9 note
“Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!”10 note
Hip.
“Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr.
“O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame?
“Since lion vile hath here destroyed 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.11 note
-- 57 --
“Come, tears, confound:
“Out, sword, and wound
“The—heart of Pyramus:
“Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
[Stabs himself.
“Now am I dead,
“Now am I fled;
“My soul is in the sky:
“Tongue, lose thy light!
“Moon, take thy flight!
“Now die, die, die, die, die.
[Dies.
[Exit Moonshine.
Hip.
How chance moonshine is gone, before Thisbe
comes back and finds her lover?
The.
She will find him by star-light.—Here she comes;
and her passion ends the play.
Enter Thisbe.
Hip.
I hope she will be brief.
Thi.
“Asleep my love?
“What, dead, my dove?
“O Pyramus, arise,
“Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
“Dead, dead? A tomb
“Must cover thy sweet eyes.
“O sisters three,
“Come, come to me,
“With hands as pale as milk;
“Lay them in gore,
“Since you have shore
“With shears his thread of silk.
“Tongue, not a word:—
“Come, trusty sword;
“Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
“And farewell, friends;—
“Thus Thisbe ends:
“Adieu, adieu, adieu.”
[Dies.
The.
Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead.
Dem.
Ay, and wall too.
-- 58 --
Bot.
No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted
their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue?
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 had writ it,
had play'd Pyramus, and hang'd himself, it would have been
a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged;
but let your Epilogue alone.
DANCE OF CLOWNS.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:—
Lovers, away; '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 gait12 note of night.—Sweet friends, away.—
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
Puck rises.
Puck.
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.13 note
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, before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.14 note
-- 59 --
Scene changes, discovering Oberon and Titania, with their Trains.
CHORUS.
Through this house give glimmering light,
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.
1st Fai.
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.
CHORUS.
Through this house give glimmering light,
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.
RECITATIVE.
Obe.
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended,)
That you have but slumber'd here,
While these visions did appear.
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend,
Else our Puck a liar call.
So, good night unto you all.
CHORUS.
Through this house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf, and fairy sprite,
Hop as light as bird from brier;
-- 60 --
And this ditty, after me,
Sing and dance it trippingly.
Trip away,
Make no stay;
Meet we all by break of day. |
