But, being over-full of self affairs, My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; I have some private schooling for you both.- Come, my Hippolyta; What cheer, my love?— I must employ you in some business [Exeunt THES. HIP. EGE. DEM. and train Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast? Her. Belike for want of rain; which I could well The course of true love never did run smooth: Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion. Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross; As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes and tears, poor fancy's § followers. Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia. I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child: From Athens is her house remote seven leagues: And she respects me as her only son. There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; And to that place the sharp Athenian law * Give, bestow. + Black. + Momentary. § Love s. Cannot pursue us: If thou lov'st me then, Her. My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow; By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves; Lys. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes Helena. Her. God speed, fair Helena! Whither away? Your eyes are lode-stars ;* and your tongue's sweet air, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, O, teach me how you look; and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O, that my prayers could such 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 see my face; Lysander and myself will fly this place. Before the time I did Lysander see, Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me: That he hath turn'd a heaven into hell!' Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: * Pole-stars. † Countenance. (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal), [Exit HERMIA. [Exit LYSANDER. Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be! Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; To have his sight thither, and back again. [Exit. SCENE II.-The same. A Room in a Cottage. Enter SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, QUINCE, and STARVELING. Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding-day at night. Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point. Quin. Marry, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merryNow, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves. Quin. Answer as I call you.-Nick Bottom the weaver. Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love. Bot. That will ask some 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 some measure. To the rest-Yet my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. "The raging rocks, "With shivering shocks, "And Phibbus' car "Shall shine from far, "And make and mar "The foolish fates." This was lofty!-Now name the rest 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 wandering knight? Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming. Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice ;-Thisne, Thisne,-Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear! and lady dear! Quin. No no; you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisby. Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Star. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.Tom Snout, the tinker. Snout. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father;-Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part:-and, I hope, here is a play fitted. Snug. Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, Let him roar again, Let him roar again. Quin. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek: and that were enough to hang us all. All. That would hang us every mother's son. Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove: I will roar you an* 'twere any nightingale. Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely, gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs play Pyramus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in ? Quin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced.-But, masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light; there will we rehearse: for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains: be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough; Hold, or cut bow-strings.‡ [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I-A Wood near Athens. Enter a FAIRY at one door, and PUCK at another. Puck. How now, spirit! whither wander you? Fai. Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, Swifter than the moones sphere; To dew her orbs§ upon the green : * As if. At all events. † Articles required in performing a play. |