L. Pardon, my lord. [They all kneel to Thefeus.
The. I pray you all, stand up.

I know, you two are rival enemies;

How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is fo far from jealoufy,

To fleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lvf. My lord, I fhall reply amazedly,
Har 'fleep, half waking: But as yet, I fwear,
I cannot truly fay how I came here :

But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,-
And now I do bethink me, fo it is ;)

I came with Hermia hither: our intent

Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. [him; [Exeunt.

As they go out, Bottom arakes.

Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will
anfwer:--my next is, Moft fair Pyramus-
Hey, ho!-Peter Quince! Flute the bellows-
mender! Snout the tinker! Starveling! God's my
life! ftol'n hence, and left me afleep! I have had
a most rare vifion. I have had a dream,—past the
wit of man to fay what dream it was: Man is but
an afs, if he go about to expound this dream. Me-

Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be thought I was there is no man can tell what.
Without the peril of the Athenian law.
Methought I was, and methought I had,- -But
F. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough; man is but a patch'd fool 3, if he will offer to fay
I beg the law, the law, upon his head.- [trius,what methought I had. The eye of man hath not
They would have ftol'n away, they would, Deme-heard, the ear of man hath not feen; man's hand
Thereby to have defeated you and me :
Ya, of your wife; and me, of my confent;
Of my confent that the fhould be your wife.
Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them;
Far Helena in fancy following me.

I

But, ray good lord, I wot not by what power,
(But by fome power it is) my love to Hermia,
Meited as is the fnow, feems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gawd 2,
Wach in my childhood I did doat upon :
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betroth'd ere I faw Hermia:
Bu, like a fcknefs, did I loath this food:
But, as in health, come to my natural tafte,
Now do I with it, love it, long for it,
And will for es ermore be true to it.

Th. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met :
Of this difcourfe we fhall hear more anon.→→→
Ereus, I will over-bear your will;
Fur in the temple, by and by with us,
The couples fhall eternally be knit.

And, for the morning now is fomething worn,
purpos3 hunting fhall be fet afide.--

Aary, with us, to Athens; Three and three,

We'll hold a feaft in great folemnity.

is not able to tafte, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be call'd Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will fing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I fhall fing it at her death. [Ex. SCENE

II.

Athens. Quince's House.

Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. Quin. Have you fent to Bottom's houfe? is he come home yet?

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is tranfported.

Flu. If he come not, then the play is marr'd; It goes not forward, doth it?

Qain. It is not poffible: you have not a man in all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he.

Flu. No; he hath fimply the beft wit of any handy-craft man in Athens.

Quin. Yea, and the best perfon too: and he is a very paramour, for a fweet voice.

Flu. You muit fay, paragon: a paramour is, God biefs us! a thing of nought.

Enter Snug.

Snug. Mafters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies

Come, Hippolita. [Exe.Thef.us, Hippolita, and train.more married: if our fport had gone forward, we
Dem. These things feem fmall, and undistinguish-had all been made men 4.
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. [able,
Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When every thing seems double.

2

Flu. Ofweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he loft fix-pence a-day during his life; he could not have 'fcaped fix-pence a-day: an the duke had not given him fix-pence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd; he would have deferv'd it: fix-pence a day, in Pyramus, or nothing.

Fancyhere means love or affection. 2 See the note in p. 175. 3 i. c. a fool in a parti-coloured coat.

♦ Meaning,

we had all made our fortunes>>

Athenian.

Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it and the long is, our play is preferr'd. In any cafe, fell out. let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for they fhall hang

Quin. Let us hear, fweet Bottom.

Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell out for the lion's claws. And, moft dear actors, you, is, that the duke hath dined: Get your ap-eat no onions nor garlick, for we are to utter parel together; good strings to your beards, new sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them ribbons to your pumps; meet prefently at the pa- fay, it is a sweet comedy. No more words; away; lace; every man look o'er his part; for, the fhort'go, away. ́

[Exeunt

Are of imagination all compact 1 :

One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold;

To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philoftrate.

Philoft. Here, mighty Thefeus.

[evening?

The. Say, what abridgment 3 have you for this What mask? what mufick? How shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with fome delight?

Philoft. There is a brief 4, how many sports are

ripe;

Make choice of which your highness will see first. [Giving a paper.

The. reads.] "The battle of the Centaurs, to be

fung

"By an Athenian eunuch to the harp." We'll none of that: that I have told my love,

That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantick,In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, [heaven;
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to
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.
Such tricks hath strong imagination;
That, if it would but apprehend fome joy,
It comprehends fome bringer of that joy;
Or, in the night, imagining fome 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 witneffeth than fancy's images,
And grows to fomething of great constancy 2:
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!

Lyf. 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-fupper, and bed-time ?
Where is our ufual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,

"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 lat a conqueror. "The thrice three Mufes mourning for the death "Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary." That is fome fatire, keen, and critical 5, Not forting with a nuptial ceremony.

"A tedious brief fcene of young Pyramus
"And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.”
Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?
That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange fnow.
How fhall we find the concord of this difcord?
Philoft. 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 confefs,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The paffion of loud laughter never shed.

1 i. e. made up. 2 i. e. confiftency. By abridgment Shakspeare here means a dramatick performance, 4 i. e. a fhort account. 5 ́ Meaning, critizing, cenfuring. That is, unexercised me

mories.

P. No, my noble lord,

k is not for you: I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find fport in their intents 1,

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 fimplenefs and duty tender it.

Enter Pyramus and Thibe, Wall, Moonshine, and
Lion, as in dumb show.

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-caft, doth prefent "Wall, that vile wall which did thefe lovers "funder:

Ga, bring them in ;—and take your places, ladies.
[Exit Philoft."
Hip. I love not to fee wretchedness o'ercharg'd,
And duty in his fervice perishing.
The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall fee no fuch"
thing.

And through wall's chink, poor fouls, they are

" content

"To whifper; at the which let no man wonder. This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn, "Prefenteth moon-fhine: for, if you will know, By moon-fhine did thefe lovers think no fcorn "To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. "This grifly beast, which by name lion hight, "The trufty Thisby, coming first by night, "Did fcare away, or rather did affright: "And, as the fled, her mantle the did fall;

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 refpect takes it in might 2, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have feen them fhiver, and look pale,
Make periods in the midft of fentences,
Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears,
And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome: Truft me, sweet,
Out of this filence, yet, I pick'd a welcome;
And in the modesty of fearful duty

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue

Of fawcy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity,

In leaft, fpeak moft, to my capacity.

Enter Philoflrate.

"Which lion vile with bloody mouth did ftain: "Anon comes Pyramus, fweet youth, and tail,

"And finds his trufty Thirby's mantle flain : "Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, "He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; "And Thirby, tarrying in mulberry shade,

"His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, "Let lion, moon-fhine, wall, and lovers twain, "At large difcourfe, while here they do remain." [Exeunt all bat Wall

The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many affes do.

Wall. "In this fame interlude, it doth befall, "That I, one Snout by name, prefent a wall:

Philat. So please your grace, the prologue is " And fuch a wall, as I would have you think,

The. Let him approach.

addreft 3.

Enter the Prologue.

[Flour. Trum."

"That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
Did whitper often very fecretly. [thew
"This lome, this rough-caft, and this flone, doth
"That I am that fame wall; the truth is fo:
And this the cranny is, right and finifter,

Pral." 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 fkill, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." The. Would you defire lime and hair to speak "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. All for your delight, “We are not here. That you should here re

"pent you, "The actors are at hand; and by their show, You fhall know all, that you are like to know.” Ter. This fellow doth not stand upon points. Lyf. He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt te knows not the ftop. A good moral, my lord It's not enough to fpeak, but to speak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on this prologue,

Ike a child on a recorder 4: a found, but not in
Evernment s.

better?

Dem. It is the wittieft partition that ever I heard difcourfe, my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence!
Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with Lus
"fo black!

"O night, which ever art, when day is not!

;

O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,

:

The. His fpeech was like a tangled chain; notang impair'd, but all difordered. Who is next?

"I fear my Thisby's promife is forgot!"And thou, O wall, Ofweet, O lovely wall, "That ftand'ft between her father's ground and

2 In might, is probably an elliptical expreffion * Intents here means the object of their attention. ready. 4 A kind of flute. s Meaning, not regularly. fu what might have been. 3 i. c.

"Thanks,

"Thanks, courteous wall: Jove fhield thee well " for this!

"But what fee I? No Thisby do I fee. "O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs; "Curft be thy ftones for thus deceiving me!" The. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould curfe again.

Pyr. No, in truth, fir, he should not. Deceivi ing me, is Thirby's cue; the is to enter now, and I am to fpy her through the wall. You fhall fee, it will fall pat as I told you: Yonder the comes.

Enter Thify.

Thif. "O wall, full often haft thou heard my

"moans,

"For parting my fair Pyramus and me:
"My cherry lips have often kifs'd thy ftones;
"Thy ftones with lime and hair knit up in thee."
Py. "I fee a voice: now will I to the chink,
"To fpy an I can hear my Thisby's face.
"Thisby !

Thij. "My love! thou art my love, I think."
Py. "Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's
26 grace;

"And like Limander am I trusty ftill."

Thif." And I like Helen, till the fates me kill."
Pyr. "Not Shafalus to Procrus was fo true."
Thif. "As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you."
I'yr. "O, kifs me through the hole of this vile

"wall."

Thil. "I kifs the wall's hole, not your lips at all."| Pyr. "Wilt thou at Nuny's tomb meet me "ftraightway?"

The. A very gentle beaft, and of a good confcience. Dem. The very beft at a beat, my lord, that e'er I faw.

Lyf. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goofe for his difcretion. Dem. Not fo, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his difcretion; and the fox carries the goofe.. valour; for the goofe carries not the fox. It is The. His difcretion, I am fure, cannot carry his well: leave it to his difcretion, and let us liften to the moon.

Moon. "This lanthorn doth the horned moon

"prefent:"

Dem. He fhould have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invifible within the circumference.

Moon. "This lanthorn doth the horned moon " prefent ;

"Myfelf the man i' th' moon do feem to be."

The. This is the greateft error of all the reft: the elfe the man i' the moon? man fhould be put into the lanthorn; How is it

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: for, you fee, it is already in fnuff '.

Hip. I am a-weary of this moon. Would, he

would change!

The. It appears, by his fmall light of difcretion, reafon, we must ftay the time. that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all

Lyf. Proceed, moon.

the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon ;Moon. All that I have to fay, is, to tell you, that this thorn-buth, my thorn-bufh; and this dog, my

dog.

Thif. "Tide life, tide death, I come without "delay." Wall. “Thus have I, wall, my part discharged for they are in the moon. [fo; Dom. Why all these fhould be in the lanthorn; "And, being done, thus wall away doth go." But, filence; here

[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thifle. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.

Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wilful to hear without warning.

Hip. This is the fillieft ftuff that ever I heard. The. The beft in this kind are but fadows: and the worst are no worfe, 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 themfelves, they may pafs for excellent men. Here come two noble beafts in, a moon and a lion.

comes Thafbe.

Fnter Thift.

Thif. "This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my
" love ?"

Lion. "Oh-" [The Lion roars. Thisbe runs off.
Dem. Well roar'd, lion.
The. Well run, Thisbe.

Hip. Well thone, moon.
fhines with a good grace.

Enter Lion and Moonfine. Lion. "You, ladies, you, whofe gentle hearts "do fear "The smallest monftrous 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, as Snug the joiner, am "A lion fell, nor elfe no lion's dam: "For if I thould as lion come in trife

"Into this place, 'twere pity on my life."

-Truly, the moon

The. Well mous'd, lion.
Dem. And then came Pyramus.
Lyf. And fo the lion vanith'd.

For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams,
"I thank thee, moon, for fhining now fo bright =
"I truft to tafle of trueft Thitby's fight.
"But ftay ;-O fpight!
"But mark ;---Poor knight,
"What dreadful dole is here?

66

Eyes, do you fee?

"How can it be?
"O dainty duck! O dear!

・ Snuff fignifics both the cinder of a candle, and hafty anger.

Tly

"Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear: "Which is no, no-which was the faireft dame, "That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd, "with cheer.

one.

"Come tears, confound; "Out fword, and wound "The pap of Pyramus:

"Ay, that left pap,

"Where heart doth hop:"Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. "Now am I dead, "Now am I fied; "My foul is in the sky:

"Tongue, lofe thy light! "Moon, take thy flight! "Now die, die, die, die, die.

[Dies. Exit Moonshine. Dea. No die, but an ace for him; for he is but

Ly Lefs than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

The. With the help of a furgeon he might yet recover, and prove an afs.

Hp. How chance the moonfhine is gone, before
Thibe comes back and finds her lover?

The. She will find him by ftar-light.-
Later Thibe.

Here the comes, and her patiion ends the play.
ifb. Methinks, the fhould not use a long one,
for fuch a Pyramus: I hope, fhe will be brief.
De A moth will turn the balance, which Py-
Tufts, which Thisbe, is the better.

Ly. She hath ipled him already, with thofe fweet

The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the

dead.

Dem. Ay, and wall too.

Bot. No, I affure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to fee the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance 3, between two of our company?

The. No epilogue, 1 pray you; for your play needs no excufe. Never excufe; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hang'd himself in Thifbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and fo it is, truly; and very notably difcharg'd. But come, your Ber. gomak: let your epilogue alone.

[Here a Dance of Clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve ;-Lovers, to bed; 'tis almoft fairy time.

I fear, we fhall out-fleep the coming morn,
As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
This palpable-grofs play hath well beguil'd
The heavy gait 4 of night.-Sweet friends, to bed.-
A fortnight hold we this folemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity.

SCENE II.
Enter Puck.

[Exeunt.

Pack. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf beholds the moon;
Whilft the heavy ploughman fnores,
All with weary task fordone 5.
Now the wafted brands do glow,
Whilft the fcritch-owl, fcritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a throud.
Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his spright,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecate's team,
From the prefence of the fun,

Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolick; not a mouse
Shall difturb this hallow'd house:

very

coarfe yarn. it is popularly used for after the manner of the pealants of ergo4 i. e. Palage, progress,

Si. e. Over

I am