Steal forth thy father's houfe to morrow night;
And in the wood, a league without the town,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena

To do obfervance to the morn of May,
There will I ftay for thee.
Her. My good Lyfander,

Lys. I fwear to thee by Cupid's ftrongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the Simplicity of Venus' doves,

By that, which knitteth fouls, and profpers loves;
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen,
When the falfe Trojan under fail was feen;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke; -
Her. In that fame place thou haft appointed me,
To morrow truly will I meet with thee.

Lys. Keep promife, love. Look, here comes Helena.
I fwear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,

By &c. &c.

In that fame place thou haft appointed me

To morrow truly will I meet with thee.] Lyfander does but just propofe her running away from her Father at midnight, and ftraight he is at her oaths that she will meet him at the place of Rendezvous. Not one doubt or hesitation, not one condition of affurance for Lyfander's conftancy. Either fhe was nauciously coming; or fhe had before jilted him; and he could not believe her without a thousand Oaths. But Shakespear obferved nature at another Rate.- -The fpeeches are divided wrong, and must be thus rectified; when Lyjander had propofed her running away. with him, the replies,

Her. My good Lyfander

and is going on, to ask fecurity for his fidelity. This he perceives, and interrupts her with the grant of what she demands, Lyf. Ifwear to thee by Cupid's ftrongest bow &c. By all the vows that ever men have broke,

In number more than ever woman spoke

Here the interrupts him in her turn; declares herself satisfied, and confents to meet him, in the following words,

Her. In that fame place thou haft appointed me,

To morrow truly will I meet with thee.

This divifion of the lines, befides preferving the character, gives the dialogue infinitely more force and fpirit.

SCENE

Her. God fpeed, fair Helena! whither away?
Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unfay;
Demetrius loves you, fair; O happy fair!

Your eyes are load-ftars, and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to fhepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when haw-thorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching: oh, were favour fo!

(a) Your's would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear fhould catch your voice, my eye your eye;
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being 'bated,
The reft I'll give to be to you tranflated.

O teach me, how you look; and with what art
You fway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me ftill.
Hel. Oh, that your frowns would teach my fmiles

fuch skill!

Her. I give him curfes, yet he gives me love.
Hel. Oh, that my pray'rs could fuch affection move!
Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.
Her. His Folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
Hel. None, but your beauty; would that fault were
mine!

Her. Take comfort; he no more shall fee my face ;
Lyfander and my felf will fly this place,
Before the time I did Lyfander fee,
Seem'd Athens like a Paradife to me.
O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell?
Lyf. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold;
To morrow night, when Phabe doth behold

![(a) Your's would catch, Oxf. Ed. catch.]

Vulg. your words I'd

H 3

Her

Her filver visage in the watʼry glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grafs;
(A time, that lovers flights doth still conceal)
Through Athens' gate have we devis'd to steal.

Her. And in the wood, where often you and I
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lye,
Emptying our bofoms of their counfels fwell'd;
There, my Lyfander and my felf fhall meet;
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
To feek new Friends and ftrange Companions.
Farewel, fweet play-fellow; pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!
Keep word, Lyfander; we muft ftarve our fight
From Lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight.
[Exit Hermia.
Lyf. I will, my Hermia.Helena, adieu;
As you on him, Demetrius doat on you! [Exit Lyfand.
Hel. How happy fome, o'er other fome, can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as fhe.

But what of that? Demetrius thinks not fo:
He will not know; what all, but he, do know.
And as he errs, doating on Hermia's eyes,

So I, admiring of his qualities.

Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can tranfpofe to form and dignity:

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind S
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment tafte;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste :
And therefore is Love faid to be a child,
Because in choice he is fo oft beguil'd.
As waggifh boys themfelves in game forfwear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where.
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine;
And when this hail fome heat from Hermia felt,
So he diffoly'd, and fhowers 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 a dear expence.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have this fight thither, and back again.

[Exit,

Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt, and

Starveling.

here?

Quin. IS all our company heft to call them generally

Bot.

man by man, according to the fcrip.

Quin. Here is the fcrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke and Dutchefs, on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. Firft, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and fo 2 go on to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy, and moft cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I affure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scrowl. Mafters, fpread yourselves. Quin. Anfwer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the

weaver.

Bot. Ready: name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.

2 GROW on to a point,] read Go on &c.

H 4

Bot.

Bot. That will ask fome tears in the true performing of it; if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms; I will condole in fome measure. To the reft; yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant; 3 I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a Cap in: To make all split- "the raging rocks, and shiver22 ing fhocks fhall break the locks of prison-gates"and Phibbus' carr fhall fhine from far, and make "and mar the foolish fates." This was lofty.

Now name the reft of the players. This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling. Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.

Flu. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.

Flu. What is Thisby, a wand'ring Knight? Quin. It is the lady, that Pyramus must love.. Flu. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard coming.

Quin. That's all one, you shall play it in a masque; and you may speak as fmall, as you will.

Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too; I'll speak in a monstrous little voice, Thifne, Thifne; ah Pyramus, my lover dear, thy Thisby dear, and lady dear.

Quin. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and Flute, you, Thisby.

3

Bot. Well, proceed.

Quin. Robin Starveling, the taylor.

I could play Ercles part rarely, or a part to tear a CAT in.] We should read,

A part to tear a CAP in.

for as a ranting whore was called a tear sheet, [2d part of Hen. IV.J fo a ranting bully was called a tear-cap. For this reafon it is, the Poet makes bully Bottom, as he is called afterwards, wifh for a part to tear a cap in. And in the ancient plays, the bombaft and the rant held the place of the fublime and pathetic: And indeed conftituted the very effence of their tragical Farces. Thus Bale in his Acts of English votaries, part 2d, fays grennyng like Termagauntes in a play.

Star,