Qui.

Is all our company here?

Bot.

You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.^{11 note}

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 Ercles^{14 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.

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 'twere^{17 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

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}

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