Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,

Such fhaping fantafies, that apprehend
More than cool reafon ever comprehends.
The lunatick, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact :

One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold;

The madman. While the lover, all as frantick,

Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.

The poet's eye; in a fine frenzy rowling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n;

And as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shape, and gives to aiery nothing
A local habitation and a name.

Such tricks hath strong imagination,

That if he would but apprehend fome joy,
He comprehends fome bringer of that joy';
Or in the night imagining some fear,

How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?

HIP. But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur'd fo together,
More witnesseth than fancy's images,

And grows to fomething of great constancy,
But, howfoever, ftrange and admirable.

Enter Lyfander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.
THE. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
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 bed.

THE. Come now, what masks, what dances fhall we have,

To wear away this long age of three hours,
Between our after-supper and bed-time?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philoftrate.

Enter Philoftrate.

PHILOST. Here, mighty Thefeus.

THE. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What mask? what musick? how fhall we beguile The lazy time, if not with fome delight!

PHILOST. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe: Make choice of which your highness will fee first.

[Giving a paper.

THE. [reads.] The battle with the Centaurs, to be

fung by an Athenian eunuch to the harp."

We'll none of that. That I have told my love,

In glory of my kinfman Hercules.

"The riot of the tipfy Bacchanals,

"Tearing the Thracian finger in their rage.' That is an old device; and it was play'd, When I from Thebes came laft a conqueror.

"The thrice three mufes mourning for the death
"Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary."
That is fome fatire, keen and critical;
Not forting with a nuptial ceremony.

A tedious brief fcene of young Pyramus,
"And his love Thisby; very tragical mirth.”
Merry and tragical? tedious and brief?
That is hot ice, and wonderous strange fnow.
How hall we find the concord of this difcord?

PHILOST. A play there is, my lord, fome ten words long, Which is as brief, as I have known a play, But by ten words, my lord, it is too long; Which makes it tedious: for in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted, And tragical, my noble lord, it is: For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I faw rehears'd, I must confess, Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears The paffion of loud laughter never shed.

THE. What are they, that do play it?

PHILOST. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never labour'd in their minds till now; And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories With this same play, against your nuptials. THE. And we will hear it.

PHILOST. 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,
Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain,
To do you fervice.

THE. I will hear that play:

For never any thing can be amifs,

When fimpleness and duty tender it.

Go, bring them in, and take your places, ladies. [Exit Phil. HIP. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd,

And duty in his service perishing.

THE. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
HIP. He fays, 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;

And what poor duty cannot do,

Noble respect takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To meet me with premeditated welcomes :
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practis'd accents in their fears,
And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this filence yet I pick'd a welcome :
And in the modefty of fearful duty

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
Of sawcy and audacious eloquence.
Love therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity,
In least speak most to my capacity.

Enter Philoftrate.

PHILOST. So please your grace, the prologue is addreft. THE. Let him approach.

[Flour. Trum.

SCENE II..

Enter Quince, for 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 fhew our fimple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.
Confider then-we come but in despite-

We do not come, as minding to content you--

Our true intent is,

We are not here,

all for your delight,

that you should here repent you, The actors are at hand;-and by their fhow,

You fhall 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 ftop. A good moral, my lord. It Is not enough to speak, but to speak true.

HIP. Indeed he hath play'd on his prologue, like a child on the recorder; a found, but not in government.

THE. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impair'd, but all disorder'd. Who is the next?

Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine and Lion, as in dumb fhew.

PROL. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show,
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain.

This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, the vile wall, which did thefe lovers funder:
And through wall's chink, poor fouls, they are content
To whisper, at the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
Prefenteth Moon-fhine: for,
you will know,
By moon-fhine did these lovers think no fcorn
To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo.
This grifly beaft which by name Lyon hight,
The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
Did fcare away, or rather did affright:
And as she fled, her mantle fhe let fall;
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did ftain.
Anon comes Pyramus, fweet youth and tall,

And finds his trufty Thisby's mantle flain;
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade