Starveling.
Bot.
Are we all met?
Quin.
Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient
place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our
stage, this hawthorn brake our 'tiring-house1 note; and we
will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.
Bot.
Peter Quince,—
Quin.
What say'st thou, bully Bottom?
Bot.
There are things in this comedy of “Pyramus
and Thisby,” that will never please. First, Pyramus
must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies
cannot abide. How answer you that?
Snout.
By'rlakin, a parlous fear2 note.
Star.
I believe, we must leave the killing out, when
all is done.
Bot.
Not a whit: I have a device to make all well.
Write me a prologue; and let the prologue seem to
say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that
Pyramus is not killed indeed: and, for the more better
assurance, tell them, that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus,
but Bottom the weaver. This will put them out of
fear.
-- 420 --
Quin.
Well, we will have such a prologue, and it
shall be written in eight and six3 note.
Bot.
No, make it two more: let it be written in
eight and eight.
Snout.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Star.
I fear it, I promise you.
Bot.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves:
to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a
most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful
wild-fowl than your lion living, and we ought to look
to it.
Snout.
Therefore, another prologue must tell he is
not a lion.
Bot.
Nay, you must name his name, and half his face
must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself
must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect:
—“Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would
request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, not to
tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither
as a lion, it were pity of my life: no, I am no such
thing: I am a man as other men are;” and there,
indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly
he is Snug, the joiner4 note.
Quin.
Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard
things: that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber;
for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight.
Snug.
Doth the moon shine that night we play our
play?
Bot.
A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack;
find out moonshine, find out moonshine.
Quin.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
-- 421 --
Bot.
Why, then you may leave a casement of the
great chamber window, where we play, open; and the
moon may shine in at the casement.
Quin.
Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of
thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure, or
to present, the person of moonshine. Then, 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 can never bring in a wall.—What say
you, Bottom?
Bot.
Some man or other must present wall; and let
him have some plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast
about him, to signify wall: or let him hold his
fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus
and Thisby whisper.
Quin.
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; and so every one according
to his cue.
Enter Puck behind.
Puck.
What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin.
Speak, Pyramus.—Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr.
“Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet, 11Q0261”—
Quin.
Odours, odours5 note.
Pyr.
—“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.”
[Exit.
-- 422 --
Puck.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here6 note!
[Exit.
This.
Must I speak now?
Quin.
Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand,
he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is
to come again.
This.
“Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.”
Quin.
Ninus' tomb, man. Why you must not speak
that yet; that you answer to Pyramus. You speak all
your part at once, cues and all7 note.—Pyramus, enter: your
cue is past; it is, “never tire.”
Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head. 11Q0262
This.
O!—“As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.”
Pyr.
“If I were, fair Thisby, I were only thine:”—
Quin.
O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted.
Pray, masters! fly, masters! help!
[Exeunt Clowns.
Puck.
I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:
Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire8 note
;
-- 423 --
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
[Exit.
Bot.
Why do they run away? this is a knavery of
them, to make me afeard.
Re-enter Snout.
Snout.
O Bottom! thou art changed: what do I see
on thee?
[Exit.
Bot.
What do you see? you see an ass's head of your
own, do you?
Re-enter Quince.
Quin.
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 oosel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawney bill9 note,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill.
Tita.
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
[Waking.
Bot.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckoo gray,
-- 424 --
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay;
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
who would give a bird the lie, though he cry “cuckoo”
never so?
Tita. 11Q0263
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force, perforce, doth move me,
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee1 note.
Bot.
Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason
for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love
keep little company together now-a-days. The more
the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make
them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion2 note.
Tita.
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.
Tita.
Out of this wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.—
Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.
1 Fai.
Ready.
-- 425 --
2 Fair.
And I.
3 Fai.
And I.
4 Fai.
Where shall we go?
Tita.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman:
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries.
The honey bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes.
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
1 Fai.
Hail, mortal!
2 Fai.
Hail!
3 Fai.
Hail!
4 Fai.
Hail!
Bot.
I cry your worship's 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?
Peas.
Peas-blossom.
Bot.
I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash3 note,
your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good
master Peas-blossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance
too.—Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Mus.
Mustard-seed.
Bot.
Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience
well: that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef
hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I
promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water
ere now. I desire you more acquaintance, good master
Mustard-seed.
-- 426 --
Tita.
Come, wait upon him: lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye,
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Tie up my lover's tongue4 note, bring him silently.
[Exeunt.
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
