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 homespuns 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. -odours savours sweet: So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.But hark, a voice! stay thou but here awhile, And by and by I will to thee appear. Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here! This. Must I speak now? [Exit. [A side.-Exit. 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 all.-Pyramus enter: your cue is past; it is, never tire. Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head. 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 fire; 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? Bot. What do you see? you see an ass-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. The ousel-cock, so black of hue, With orange-tawny bill, The throstle with his note so true, The wren with little quill; [Sings. Tita. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? [Waking. Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, The plain-song cuckoo gray, 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. 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, 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 occasion. 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; 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: Peasblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed! Where shall we go? Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, 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. Peasblossom. Bot. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peasblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.— Your name, I beseech you, sir? Mus. Mustardseed. Bot. Good Master Mustardseed, 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 Mustardseed. 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 love's tongue, bring him silently. [Exeunt. SCENE IL-Another part of the Wood. Enter OBERON. Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak'd; Enter PUCK. Here comes my messenger.-How now, mad spirit? And at our stamp here o'er and o'er one falls; He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. Their sense, thus weak, lost with their fears, thus strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong: For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch; Some sleeves, some hats: from yielders all things catch. And left sweet Pyramus translated there: Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. Puck. I took him sleeping,-that is finish'd too,— And the Athenian woman by his side; That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd. Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA. Obe. Stand close; this is the same Athenian. Her. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse; Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, The sun was not so true unto the day As he to me: would he have stol'n away From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murder'd look; and so should I, Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcase to my hounds. An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood: I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me, then, that he is well. And from thy hated presence part I so: Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein: [Exit. |