University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Wood. Bower. Duke's Oak.
Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.
(The Queen of the Fairies lying asleep.)
Bot.

Are we all met?

Quin.

Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient
place. This green plot shall be our stage;
this hawthorn brake our trying-house, and tonight
we will only do it in action; but our next
rehearsal shall be full court-dress'd, as we will do
it before the Duke.

Bot.

Peter Quince!

Quin.

What say'st thou, Bully Bottom?

Bot.

There are things in this Comedy of Pyramus
and Thisby, that will never please. First,
Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself,
which the ladies cannot abide;—however, peradventure,
this may be quantified by my delicate
colouring;—but the Lion!—will not the ladies
tremble at the Lion?

Snug.

By'r laken, a parlous fear!

Quin.

I believe we must leave the Lion out,
when all is done.

Bot.

Ay, masters, you ought to consider
with yourselves;—to bring in, Heaven shield us!
a Lion amongst ladies, is a most dreadful thing;
for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than
your Lion, living!—and we ought to look to it.

Quin.

We'll have two Prologues,—the one
that's written, and another to tell he is not a Lion.

Bot.

Nay, there's only this—you must name

his name, and half his face must be seen through
the Lion's neck; and he himself must speak
through, saying thus, or to the same defect:
Ladies, or fair Ladies, my life for yours! if you
think I came hither as a Lion, it were pity of my
life: I am no such thing! I am a man, as other
men are;—and there indeed, let him name his
name, and tell them plainly, he is no Lion, but
Snug the joiner.

Quin.

Well, it shall be so; but there is two
hard things, that is, to bring the moonlight into
a chamber; for you know, Pyramus and Thisby
met by moonlight.

Bot.

Hard!—that's all here— (Pointing to his

head)
—One must come in with a bush of thorns
and a lantern; and say he comes to disfigure, or
present, the person of Moonshine.

Quin.

Good! but there is another hard thing—
We must have a wall in the great chamber, for
Pyramus and Thisby, as the story goes, did make
love through the chink of a wall.

Flute.

You can never bring in a wall.

All.

Never!

Bot.

Can't we? bless you!— (Smiling contemptuously.)

—Can't some man or other present Wall?
and let him have some lome, or some rough-cast
about him, to signify Wall;—and can't he hold
his fingers thus? and through the cranny shan't
Pyramus and Thisby whisper? They shall; and so,
Snout, you're the Wall.

Quin.

If that may be, then all is well.—Come,
sit down every mother's son, and rehearse your
parts.—Pyramus, you begin; and when you have
spoken your speech, enter into that brake, and
so every one according to his cue.

Enter Puck.
Puck.
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?
So near the cradle of our Fairy Queen?
What, a Play tow'rd; I'll be an auditor;
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

Quin.
Speak, Pyramus.—Thisby, stand forth.

Bot.
Thisby, the flower of odious savours, sweet,—

Quin.
Odours, odours!

Bot.
Odours savours sweet;
So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear,—
But, hark! I see a voice!—stay thou but here,
And by and by, I will to thee appear.

[Exit Pyramus.
Puck.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here.

[Exit Puck.
Flute.
Must I speak now?

Quin.

Ay, marry must you; for you understand,
he goes but to see the noise, and is to come again.

Flute.
Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most briskly juvenale, 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,
prepare—your cue is—“never tire.”

Flute.

Oh! as true as truest horse that yet
would never tire.

Bot.
[Without.]

I come!—

Flute.

He comes, all lovely, beautiful, and brave!

Enter Bottom, with an Ass's Head on.—Puck behind, waving his Wand, then instantly retiring.
Bot.

Sweet love!—in thy fond arms,—

(As he is about to embrace Thisby—Flute and all look up, and show horror and astonishment.)
Quin.

Oh! monstrous!—Oh, strange!—we are
haunted,—pray, masters—fly, masters! help!—

[Exeunt all but Bottom.
Bot.

Holloa!—What do you run away for?—
Sure, 'tis a knavery of theirs, to make me afeard.

Re-enter Flute.
Flute.

Oh, Bottom!—thou art chang'd!—I see
on thee a new head!

Bot.

And I see on thee, thy old head! an Ass's
head!

Re-enter Quince.
Quin.

Bless thee, Bottom!—bless thee!—thou art translated.

[Exeunt Quin. and Flute.
Bot.

I see they'd fright me if they could;
but I will not stir: I will walk up and down here,
and I will sing, and they shall hear I am not
afraid.

AIR—Bottom.

Queen.
What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?

(Advancing from the Bower, Bottom not seeing her)
Sings again.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckow grey;
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, nay.

Queen.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again,
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note;
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape,
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.

Bot.
Love me!—mad—stark-staring—Quince! Snout!

[Going, Titania lays hold of him.]
Queen.
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;
And I do doat on thee—so, go with me,
I'll give thee Fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressed flow'rs doth sleep:
Peaseblossom, Cob, Moth, Mustardseed!

Enter Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed, and other Fairies.
1st Fairy.
Ready.

2nd Fairy.
And I.

3rd Fairy.
And I.

4th Fairy.
And I.

Queen.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman,
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricots and dewberries!
The honey-bags steal from the humble bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fairy glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arise;
Nod to him, Elves, and do him courtesies.

Bot.

Cobweb! if I cut my finger, I shall make
bold with you, good Master Cobweb.—Peaseblossom!
commend me to Master Peascod your
father, and Mrs. Squash your mother!—Mustardseed!
though your kindred hath made my
eyes water e'er now, I desire more of your acquaintance,
good Master Mustardseed!—Oh
Love!— (Turning to Titania.)

CHORUS.
[Music.]
1st Fairy.
Hail, mortal, hail!

2nd Fairy.
Hail!

3rd Fairy.
Hail!

[Fairies sing and dance round Bottom, laying hold of his Hands—he dances with them, and all
Exeunt.