Текст книги "A Midsummer Night’s Dream"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue;

Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong.

And sometime rail thou like Demetrius.

And from each other look thou lead them thus,

Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep

With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.

Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye,

He gives a flower to Robin.

Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,

To take from thence all error with his might

And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.

When they next wake, all this derision

Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision.

And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,

With league whose date till death shall never end.

Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,

I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;

And then I will her charmed eye release

From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.

ROBIN

My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,

For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,

And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger,

At whose approach, ghosts wand’ring here and

there

Troop home to churchyards. Damned spirits all,

That in crossways and floods have burial,

Already to their wormy beds are gone.

For fear lest day should look their shames upon,

They willfully themselves exile from light

And must for aye consort with black-browed night.

OBERON

But we are spirits of another sort.

I with the Morning’s love have oft made sport

And, like a forester, the groves may tread

Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red,

Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,

Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.

But notwithstanding, haste! Make no delay.

We may effect this business yet ere day.      He exits.

ROBIN

Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down.

I am feared in field and town.

Goblin, lead them up and down.

Here comes one.

Enter Lysander.

LYSANDER

Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.

ROBIN, in Demetrius’ voice

Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?

LYSANDER I will be with thee straight.

ROBIN, in Demetrius’ voice Follow me, then, to

plainer ground.      Lysander exits.

Enter Demetrius.

DEMETRIUS Lysander, speak again.

Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?

Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy

head?

ROBIN, in Lysander’s voice

Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,

Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars,

And wilt not come? Come, recreant! Come, thou

child!

I’ll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled

That draws a sword on thee.

DEMETRIUS Yea, art thou there?

ROBIN, in Lysander’s voice

Follow my voice. We’ll try no manhood here.

They exit.

Enter Lysander.

LYSANDER

He goes before me and still dares me on.

When I come where he calls, then he is gone.

The villain is much lighter-heeled than I.

I followed fast, but faster he did fly,

That fallen am I in dark uneven way,

And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day,

For if but once thou show me thy gray light,

I’ll find Demetrius and revenge this spite.

He lies down and sleeps.

Enter Robin and Demetrius.

ROBIN, in Lysander’s voice

Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com’st thou not?

DEMETRIUS

Abide me, if thou dar’st, for well I wot

Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place,

And dar’st not stand nor look me in the face.

Where art thou now?

ROBIN, in Lysander’s voice

Come hither. I am here.

DEMETRIUS

Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this

dear

If ever I thy face by daylight see.

Now go thy way. Faintness constraineth me

To measure out my length on this cold bed.

By day’s approach look to be visited.

He lies down and sleeps.

Enter Helena.

HELENA

O weary night, O long and tedious night,

Abate thy hours! Shine, comforts, from the east,

That I may back to Athens by daylight

From these that my poor company detest.

And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,

Steal me awhile from mine own company.

She lies down and sleeps.

ROBIN

Yet but three? Come one more.

Two of both kinds makes up four.

Here she comes, curst and sad.

Cupid is a knavish lad

Thus to make poor females mad.

Enter Hermia.

HERMIA

Never so weary, never so in woe,

Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers,

I can no further crawl, no further go.

My legs can keep no pace with my desires.

Here will I rest me till the break of day.

Heavens shield Lysander if they mean a fray!

She lies down and sleeps.

ROBIN

On the ground

Sleep sound.

I’ll apply

To your eye,

Gentle lover, remedy.

Robin applies the nectar

to Lysander’s eyes.

When thou wak’st,

Thou tak’st

True delight

In the sight

Of thy former lady’s eye.

And the country proverb known,

That every man should take his own,

In your waking shall be shown.

Jack shall have Jill;

Naught shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be

well.

He exits.

ACT 4

Scene 1

With the four lovers still asleep onstage, enter

Titania, Queen of Fairies, and Bottom and Fairies,

and Oberon, the King, behind them unseen by those

onstage.

TITANIA

Come, sit thee down upon this flow’ry bed,

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head,

And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

BOTTOM Where’s Peaseblossom?

PEASEBLOSSOM Ready.

BOTTOM Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s

Monsieur Cobweb?

COBWEB Ready.

BOTTOM Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you

your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped

humble-bee on the top of a thistle, and, good

monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret

yourself too much in the action, monsieur, and,

good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break

not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a

honey-bag, signior. Cobweb exits. Where’s Monsieur

Mustardseed?

MUSTARDSEED Ready.

BOTTOM Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed.

Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.

MUSTARDSEED What’s your will?

BOTTOM Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery

Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s,

monsieur, for methinks I am marvels hairy about

the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair do

but tickle me, I must scratch.

TITANIA

What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?

BOTTOM I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s

have the tongs and the bones.

TITANIA

Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.

BOTTOM Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch

your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire

to a bottle of hay. Good hay, sweet hay, hath no

fellow.

TITANIA

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek

The squirrel’s hoard and fetch thee new nuts.

BOTTOM I had rather have a handful or two of dried

peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir

me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

TITANIA

Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.—

Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.

Fairies exit.

So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle

Gently entwist; the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!

Bottom and Titania sleep.

Enter Robin Goodfellow.

OBERON

Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do begin to pity.

For, meeting her of late behind the wood,

Seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool,

I did upbraid her and fall out with her.

For she his hairy temples then had rounded

With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;

And that same dew, which sometime on the buds

Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,

Stood now within the pretty flouriets’ eyes,

Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.

When I had at my pleasure taunted her,

And she in mild terms begged my patience,

I then did ask of her her changeling child,

Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent

To bear him to my bower in Fairyland.

And now I have the boy, I will undo

This hateful imperfection of her eyes.

And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp

From off the head of this Athenian swain,

That he, awaking when the other do,

May all to Athens back again repair

And think no more of this night’s accidents

But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

He applies the nectar to her eyes.

Be as thou wast wont to be.

See as thou wast wont to see.

Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower

Hath such force and blessed power.

Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.

TITANIA, waking

My Oberon, what visions have I seen!

Methought I was enamored of an ass.

OBERON

There lies your love.

TITANIA How came these things to pass?

O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

OBERON

Silence awhile.—Robin, take off this head.—

Titania, music call; and strike more dead

Than common sleep of all these five the sense.

TITANIA

Music, ho, music such as charmeth sleep!

ROBIN, removing the ass-head from Bottom

Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes

peep.

OBERON

Sound music.      Music.

Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

Titania and Oberon dance.

Now thou and I are new in amity,

And will tomorrow midnight solemnly

Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,

And bless it to all fair prosperity.

There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be

Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

ROBIN

Fairy king, attend and mark.

I do hear the morning lark.

OBERON

Then, my queen, in silence sad

Trip we after night’s shade.

We the globe can compass soon,

Swifter than the wand’ring moon.

TITANIA

Come, my lord, and in our flight

Tell me how it came this night

That I sleeping here was found

With these mortals on the ground.

Oberon, Robin, and Titania exit.

Wind horn. Enter Theseus and all his train,

Hippolyta, Egeus.

THESEUS

Go, one of you, find out the Forester.

For now our observation is performed,

And, since we have the vaward of the day,

My love shall hear the music of my hounds.

Uncouple in the western valley; let them go.

Dispatch, I say, and find the Forester.

A Servant exits.

We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top

And mark the musical confusion

Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

HIPPOLYTA

I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,

When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear

With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear

Such gallant chiding, for, besides the groves,

The skies, the fountains, every region near

Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard

So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

THESEUS

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,

So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung

With ears that sweep away the morning dew;

Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls;

Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,

Each under each. A cry more tunable

Was never holloed to, nor cheered with horn,

In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.

Judge when you hear.—But soft! What nymphs are

these?

EGEUS

My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,

And this Lysander; this Demetrius is,

This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena.

I wonder of their being here together.

THESEUS

No doubt they rose up early to observe

The rite of May, and hearing our intent,

Came here in grace of our solemnity.

But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day

That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

EGEUS It is, my lord.

THESEUS

Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.

A Servant exits.

Shout within. Wind horns. They all start up.

THESEUS

Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past.

Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?

Demetrius, Helena, Hermia, and Lysander kneel.

LYSANDER

Pardon, my lord.

THESEUS I pray you all, stand up.

They rise.

I know you two are rival enemies.

How comes this gentle concord in the world,

That hatred is so far from jealousy

To sleep by hate and fear no enmity?

LYSANDER

My lord, I shall reply amazedly,

Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear,

I cannot truly say how I came here.

But, as I think—for truly would I speak,

And now I do bethink me, so it is:

I came with Hermia hither. Our intent

Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,

Without the peril of the Athenian law—

EGEUS

Enough, enough!—My lord, you have enough.

I beg the law, the law upon his head.

They would have stol’n away.—They would,

Demetrius,

Thereby to have defeated you and me:

You of your wife and me of my consent,

Of my consent that she should be your wife.

DEMETRIUS

My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,

Of this their purpose hither to this wood,

And I in fury hither followed them,

Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not by what power

(But by some power it is) my love to Hermia,

Melted as the snow, seems to me now

As the remembrance of an idle gaud

Which in my childhood I did dote 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 betrothed ere I saw Hermia.

But like a sickness did I loathe this food.

But, as in health, come to my natural taste,

Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,

And will forevermore be true to it.

THESEUS

Fair lovers, you are fortunately met.

Of this discourse we more will hear anon.—

Egeus, I will overbear your will,

For in the temple by and by, with us,

These couples shall eternally be knit.—

And, for the morning now is something worn,

Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.

Away with us to Athens. Three and three,

We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.

Come, Hippolyta.

Theseus and his train,

including Hippolyta and Egeus, exit.

DEMETRIUS

These things seem small and undistinguishable,

Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

HERMIA

Methinks I see these things with parted eye,

When everything seems double.

HELENA So methinks.

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

Mine own and not mine own.

DEMETRIUS Are you sure

That we are awake? It seems to me

That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think

The Duke was here and bid us follow him?

HERMIA

Yea, and my father.

HELENA And Hippolyta.

LYSANDER

And he did bid us follow to the temple.

DEMETRIUS

Why, then, we are awake. Let’s follow him,

And by the way let us recount our dreams.

Lovers exit.

BOTTOM, waking up When my cue comes, call me,

and I will answer. My next is “Most fair Pyramus.”

Hey-ho! Peter Quince! Flute the bellows-mender!

Snout the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life! Stolen

hence and left me asleep! I have had a most rare

vision. I have had a dream past the wit of man to say

what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about

to expound this dream. Methought I was—there

is no man can tell what. Methought I was and

methought I had—but man is but a patched fool if

he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of

man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen,

man’s hand is not able to taste, 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 called “Bottom’s Dream” because

it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the

latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peradventure,

to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her

death.

He exits.

Scene 2

Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.

QUINCE Have you sent to Bottom’s house? Is he come

home yet?

STARVELING He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he

is transported.

FLUTE If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes

not forward, doth it?

QUINCE It is not possible. You have not a man in all

Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.

FLUTE No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraftman

in Athens.

QUINCE Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very

paramour for a sweet voice.

FLUTE You must say “paragon.” A “paramour” is (God

bless us) a thing of naught.

Enter Snug the joiner.

SNUG Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple,

and there is two or three lords and ladies more

married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all

been made men.

FLUTE O, sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence

a day during his life. He could not have

’scaped sixpence a day. An the Duke had not given

him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be

hanged. He would have deserved it. Sixpence a day

in Pyramus, or nothing!

Enter Bottom.

BOTTOM Where are these lads? Where are these

hearts?

QUINCE Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy

hour!

BOTTOM Masters, I am to discourse wonders. But ask

me not what; for, if I tell you, I am not true

Athenian. I will tell you everything right as it fell

out.

QUINCE Let us hear, sweet Bottom.

BOTTOM Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is that

the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together,

good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your

pumps. Meet presently at the palace. Every man

look o’er his part. For the short and the long is, our

play is preferred. In any case, let Thisbe have clean

linen, and let not him that plays the lion pare his

nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws.

And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for

we are to utter sweet breath, and I do not doubt but

to hear them say it is a sweet comedy. No more

words. Away! Go, away!

They exit.

ACT 5

Scene 1

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate, Lords, and

Attendants.

HIPPOLYTA

’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.

THESEUS

More strange than true. I never may believe

These antique fables nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,

Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend

More than cool reason ever comprehends.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet

Are of imagination all compact.

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold:

That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic,

Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt.

The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to

heaven,

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 some joy,

It comprehends some bringer of that joy.

Or in the night, imagining some fear,

How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

HIPPOLYTA

But all the story of the night told over,

And all their minds transfigured so together,

More witnesseth than fancy’s images

And grows to something of great constancy,

But, howsoever, strange and admirable.

Enter Lovers: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.

THESEUS

Here come the lovers full of joy and mirth.—

Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love

Accompany your hearts!

LYSANDER More than to us

Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!

THESEUS

Come now, what masques, what dances shall we

have

To wear away this long age of three hours

Between our after-supper and bedtime?

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 Philostrate.

PHILOSTRATE, coming forward Here, mighty Theseus.

THESEUS

Say what abridgment have you for this evening,

What masque, what music? How shall we beguile

The lazy time if not with some delight?

PHILOSTRATE, giving Theseus a paper

There is a brief how many sports are ripe.

Make choice of which your Highness will see first.

THESEUS

“The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung

By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.”

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

In glory of my kinsman Hercules.

“The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,

Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.”

That is an old device, and it was played

When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.

“The thrice-three Muses mourning for the death

Of learning, late deceased in beggary.”

That is some satire, keen and critical,

Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.

“A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus

And his love Thisbe, very tragical mirth.”

“Merry” and “tragical”? “Tedious” and “brief”?

That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow!

How shall we find the concord of this discord?

PHILOSTRATE

A play there is, my lord, some 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 saw rehearsed, I must confess,

Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears

The passion of loud laughter never shed.

THESEUS

What are they that do play it?

PHILOSTRATE

Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,

Which never labored in their minds till now,

And now have toiled their unbreathed memories

With this same play, against your nuptial.

THESEUS

And we will hear it.

PHILOSTRATE 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 stretched and conned with cruel pain

To do you service.

THESEUS I will hear that play,

For never anything can be amiss

When simpleness and duty tender it.

Go, bring them in—and take your places, ladies.

Philostrate exits.

HIPPOLYTA

I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged,

And duty in his service perishing.

THESEUS

Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.

HIPPOLYTA

He says they can do nothing in this kind.

THESEUS

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 greet me with premeditated welcomes,

Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,

Make periods in the midst of sentences,

Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,

And in conclusion dumbly have broke off,

Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,

Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,

And in the modesty of fearful duty,

I read as much as from the rattling tongue

Of saucy and audacious eloquence.

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity

In least speak most, to my capacity.

Enter Philostrate.

PHILOSTRATE

So please your Grace, the Prologue is addressed.

THESEUS Let him approach.

Enter the Prologue.

PROLOGUE

If we offend, it is with our goodwill.

That you should think we come not to offend,

But with goodwill. To show our simple skill,

That is the true beginning of our end.

Consider, 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 repent

you,

The actors are at hand, and, by their show,

You shall know all that you are like to know.

Prologue exits.

THESEUS This fellow doth not stand upon points.

LYSANDER He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt;

he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is

not enough to speak, but to speak true.

HIPPOLYTA Indeed he hath played on this prologue like

a child on a recorder—a sound, but not in

government.

THESEUS His speech was like a tangled chain—nothing

impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?

Enter Pyramus (Bottom), and Thisbe (Flute), and

Wall (Snout), and Moonshine (Starveling), and Lion

(Snug), and Prologue (Quince).

QUINCE, as Prologue

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 Thisbe is certain.

This man with lime and roughcast doth present

“Wall,” that vile wall which did these lovers

sunder;

And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are

content

To whisper, at the which let no man wonder.

This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,

Presenteth “Moonshine,” for, if you will know,

By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn

To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.

This grisly beast (which “Lion” hight by name)

The trusty Thisbe coming first by night

Did scare away or rather did affright;

And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,

Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.

Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,

And finds his trusty Thisbe’s mantle slain.

Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,

He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast.

And Thisbe, tarrying in mulberry shade,

His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,

Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain

At large discourse, while here they do remain.

THESEUS I wonder if the lion be to speak.

DEMETRIUS No wonder, my lord. One lion may when

many asses do.

Lion, Thisbe, Moonshine, and Prologue exit.

SNOUT, as Wall

In this same interlude it doth befall

That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;

And such a wall as I would have you think

That had in it a crannied hole or chink,

Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe,

Did whisper often, very secretly.

This loam, this roughcast, and this stone doth show

That I am that same wall. The truth is so.

And this the cranny is, right and sinister,

Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

THESEUS Would you desire lime and hair to speak

better?

DEMETRIUS It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard

discourse, my lord.

THESEUS Pyramus draws near the wall. Silence.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

O grim-looked night! O night with hue so black!

O night, which ever art when day is not!

O night! O night! Alack, alack, alack!

I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot.

And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,

That stand’st between her father’s ground and

mine,

Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,

Show me thy chink to blink through with mine

eyne.

Thanks, courteous wall. Jove shield thee well for

this.

But what see I? No Thisbe do I see.

O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss,

Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!

THESEUS The wall, methinks, being sensible, should

curse again.

BOTTOM No, in truth, sir, he should not. “Deceiving

me” is Thisbe’s cue. She is to enter now, and I am

to spy her through the wall. You shall see it will fall

pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.

Enter Thisbe (Flute).

FLUTE, as Thisbe

O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans

For parting my fair Pyramus and me.

My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones,

Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

I see a voice! Now will I to the chink

To spy an I can hear my Thisbe’s face.

Thisbe?

FLUTE, as Thisbe

My love! Thou art my love, I think.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace,

And, like Limander, am I trusty still.

FLUTE, as Thisbe

And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.

FLUTE, as Thisbe

As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.

FLUTE, as Thisbe

I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?

FLUTE, as Thisbe

’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.

Bottom and Flute exit.

SNOUT, as Wall

Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so,

And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.      He exits.

THESEUS Now is the wall down between the two

neighbors.

DEMETRIUS No remedy, my lord, when walls are so

willful to hear without warning.

HIPPOLYTA This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

THESEUS The best in this kind are but shadows, and

the worst are no worse, if imagination amend

them.

HIPPOLYTA It must be your imagination, then, and not

theirs.

THESEUS If we imagine no worse of them than they of

themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here

come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.

Enter Lion (Snug) and Moonshine (Starveling).

SNUG, as Lion

You ladies, you whose gentle hearts do fear

The smallest monstrous 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 else no lion’s dam;

For if I should as lion come in strife

Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.

THESEUS A very gentle beast, and of a good

conscience.

DEMETRIUS The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I

saw.

LYSANDER This lion is a very fox for his valor.

THESEUS True, and a goose for his discretion.

DEMETRIUS Not so, my lord, for his valor cannot carry

his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

THESEUS His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his

valor, for the goose carries not the fox. It is well.

Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the

Moon.

STARVELING, as Moonshine

This lanthorn doth the horned moon present.

DEMETRIUS He should have worn the horns on his

head.

THESEUS He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible

within the circumference.

STARVELING, as Moonshine

This lanthorn doth the horned moon present.

Myself the man i’ th’ moon do seem to be.

THESEUS This is the greatest error of all the rest; the

man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else

“the man i’ th’ moon”?

DEMETRIUS He dares not come there for the candle,

for you see, it is already in snuff.

HIPPOLYTA I am aweary of this moon. Would he would

change.

THESEUS It appears by his small light of discretion that

he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason,

we must stay the time.

LYSANDER Proceed, Moon.

STARVELING, as Moonshine All that I have to say is to tell

you that the lanthorn is the moon, I the man i’ th’

moon, this thornbush my thornbush, and this dog

my dog.

DEMETRIUS Why, all these should be in the lanthorn,

for all these are in the moon. But silence. Here

comes Thisbe.

Enter Thisbe (Flute).

FLUTE, as Thisbe

This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?

SNUG, as Lion O!

The Lion roars. Thisbe runs off,

dropping her mantle.

DEMETRIUS Well roared, Lion.

THESEUS Well run, Thisbe.

HIPPOLYTA Well shone, Moon. Truly, the Moon shines

with a good grace.

Lion worries the mantle.

THESEUS Well moused, Lion.

Enter Pyramus (Bottom).

DEMETRIUS And then came Pyramus.

Lion exits.

LYSANDER And so the lion vanished.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams.

I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright,

For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,

I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.—

But stay! O spite!

But mark, poor knight,

What dreadful dole is here!

Eyes, do you see!

How can it be!

O dainty duck! O dear!

Thy mantle good—

What, stained with blood?

Approach, ye Furies fell!

O Fates, come, come,

Cut thread and thrum,

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

THESEUS This passion, and the death of a dear friend,

would go near to make a man look sad.

HIPPOLYTA Beshrew my heart but I pity the man.

BOTTOM, as Pyramus

O, wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame,

Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear,

Which is—no, no—which was the fairest dame

That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with

cheer?

Come, tears, confound!

Out, sword, and wound

The pap of Pyramus;

Ay, that left pap,