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.
