William Shakespeare - Midsummer Night's Dream
William Shakespeare - Midsummer Night's Dream
William Shakespeare - Midsummer Night's Dream
MIDSOMMER
Nights Dreame.
Actus primus.
Theseus.
Now faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre
Drawes on apace: foure happy daies bring in
Another Moon: but oh, me thinkes, how slow
This old Moon wanes; She lingers my desires
Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager,
Long withering out a yong mans reuennew.
Hip.
Foure daies wil quickly steep the[m]selues in
nights
Foure nights wil quickly dreame away the time:
And then the Moone, like to a siluer bow,
Now bent in heauen, shal behold the night
Of our solemnities.
The.
Go Philostrate,
Stirre vp the Athenian youth to merriments,
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth,
Turne melancholy forth to Funerals:
The pale companion is not for our pompe,
Hippolita, I wood thee with my sword,
And wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries:
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pompe, with triumph, and with reuelling.
Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, Lysander,
and Demetrius.
Ege.
Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke.
The.
Thanks good Egeus: whats the news with thee?
Ege.
Full of vexation, come I, with complaint
Against my childe, my daughter Hermia.
Stand forth Demetrius.
My Noble Lord,
This man hath my consent to marrie her.
Stand forth Lysander.
conceits,
Knackes, trifles, Nose-gaies, sweet meats
(messengers
Of strong preuailment in vnhardned youth)
With cunning hast thou filchd my daughters
heart,
Turnd her obedience (which is due to me)
To stubborne harshnesse. And my gracious Duke,
Be it so she will not heere before your Grace,
Consent to marrie with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient priuiledge of Athens;
As she is mine, I may dispose of her;
Which shall be either to this Gentleman,
Or to her death, according to our Law,
Immediately prouided in that case.
The.
What say you Hermia? be aduisd faire Maide,
To you your Father should be as a God;
One that composd your beauties; yea and one
To whom you are but as a forme in waxe
By him imprinted: and within his power,
To leaue the figure, or disfigure it:
Demetrius is a worthy Gentleman.
Her.
So is Lysander.
The.
In himselfe he is.
But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voyce,
The other must be held the worthier.
Her.
I would my father lookd but with my eyes.
The.
Rather your eies must with his iudgment looke.
Her.
I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concerne my modestie
In such a presence heere to pleade my thoughts:
But I beseech your Grace, that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
The.
Either to dye the death, or to abiure
Lys.
How now my loue? Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the Roses there do fade so fast?
Her.
Belike for want of raine, which I could well
Beteeme them, from the tempest of mine eyes.
Lys.
For ought that euer I could reade,
Could euer heare by tale or historie,
The course of true loue neuer did run smooth,
Her.
God speede faire Helena, whither away?
Hel.
Cal you me faire? that faire againe vnsay,
Demetrius loues you faire: O happie faire!
Your eyes are loadstarres, and your tongues
sweete ayre
More tuneable then Larke to shepheards eare,
When wheate is greene, when hauthorne buds
appeare,
Sicknesse is catching: O were fauor so,
Your words I catch, faire Hermia ere I go,
My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your
eye,
My tongue should catch your tongues sweete
melodie,
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest Ile giue to be to you translated.
O teach me how you looke, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius hart.
Her.
I frowne vpon him, yet he loues me still.
Hel.
O that your frownes would teach my smiles
such skil.
Her.
I giue him curses, yet he giues me loue.
Hel.
O that my prayers could such affection mooue.
Her.
The more I hate, the more he followes me.
Hel.
The more I loue, the more he hateth me.
Her.
His folly Helena is none of mine.
Hel.
None but your beauty, wold that fault wer mine.
Her.
Take comfort: he no more shall see my face,
Lysander and my selfe will flie this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see,
Seemd Athens like a Paradise to mee.
O then, what graces in my Loue do dwell,
Lys.
I will my Hermia. Helena adieu,
As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you.
Exit Lysander.
Hele.
How happy some, ore othersome can be?
Through Athens I am thought as faire as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinkes not so:
He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
And as hee erres, doting on Hermias eyes;
So I, admiring of his qualities:
Things base and vilde, holding no quantity,
Loue can transpose to forme and dignity,
Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde,
And therefore is wingd Cupid painted blinde.
Nor hath loues minde of any iudgement taste:
Wings and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haste.
And therefore is Loue said to be a childe,
Because in choise he is often beguild,
As waggish boyes in game themselues forsweare;
So the boy Loue is periurd euery where.
For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermias eyne,
Quin.
Is all our company heere?
Bot.
You were best to call them generally, man by
man according to the scrip.
Qui.
Here is the scrowle of euery mans name, which
is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our
Enterlude
before the Duke and the Dutches, 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 on
to a point.
Quin.
Marry our play is the most lamentable comedy,
and most cruell death of Pyramus and Thisbie.
Bot.
A very good peece of worke I assure you, and a
merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your
Actors
by the scrowle. Masters spread your selues.
Quince.
Answere as I call you. Nick Bottome the
Weauer.
Bottome.
Ready; name what part I am for, and
proceed.
Quince.
You Nicke Bottome are set downe for Pyramus.
Bot.
What is Pyramus, a louer, or a tyrant?
Quin.
A Louer that kills himselfe most gallantly for
loue.
Bot.
That will aske some teares in the true performing
of it: if I do it, let the audience looke to their eies:
I will mooue stormes; I will condole in some
measure.
To the rest yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I
could
play Ercles rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to
make all
Flut.
Nay faith, let not mee play a woman, I haue a
beard comming.
Qui.
Thats all one, you shall play it in a Maske, and
you may speake as small as you will.
Bot.
And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbie too:
Ile speake in a monstrous little voyce; Thisne,
Thisne, ah
Pyramus my louer deare, thy Thisbie deare, and
Lady
deare.
Quin.
No no, you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you
Thisby.
Bot.
Well, proceed.
Qu.
Robin Starueling the Taylor.
Star.
Heere Peter Quince.
Quince.
Robin Starueling, you must play Thisbies
mother?
Tom Snowt, the Tinker.
Snowt.
Heere Peter Quince.
Quin.
you, Pyramus father; my self, Thisbies father;
Snugge the Ioyner, you the Lyons part: and I hope
there
is a play fitted.
Snug.
Haue you the Lions part written? pray you if
be, giue it me, for I am slow of studie.
Quin.
You may doe it extemporie, for it is nothing
but roaring.
Bot.
Let mee play the Lyon too, I will roare that I
will doe any mans heart good to heare me. I will
roare,
that I will make the Duke say, Let him roare
againe, let
him roare againe.
Quin.
If you should do it too terribly, you would
fright the Dutchesse and the Ladies, that they
would
shrike, and that were enough to hang us all.
All.
That would hang vs euery mothers sonne.
Bottome.
I graunt you friends, if that you should
fright the Ladies out of their Wittes, they would
haue no more discretion but to hang vs: but I will
aggrauate
my voyce so, that I will roare you as gently as
any sucking Doue; I will roare andtwere any
Nightingale.
Quin.
You can play no part but Piramus, for
Piramus is a sweet-facd man, a proper man as
one shall see in a summers day; a most louely
Gentleman-like man, therfore you must needs
play Piramus.
Bot.
Well, I will vndertake it. What beard were I
best to play it in?
Quin.
Why, what you will.
Bot.
I will discharge it, in either your straw-colour
beard, your orange tawnie beard, your purple in
graine
beard, or your French-crowne colourd beard,
your perfect
yellow.
Quin.
Bot.
Enough, hold or cut bow-strings.
Exeunt.
Actus Secundus.
Rob.
How now spirit, whether wander you?
Fai.
Ouer hil, ouer dale, through bush, through briar,
Ouer parke, ouer pale, through flood, through fire,
I do wander euerie where, swifter then ! Moons
sphere;
And I serue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs
vpon the green.
The Cowslips tall, her pensioners bee,
In their gold coats, spots you see,
Those be Rubies, Fairie fauors,
In those freckles, liue their sauors,
I must go seeke some dew drops heere,
And hang a pearle in euery cowslips eare.
Farewell thou Lob of spirits, Ile be gon,
Our Queene and all her Elues come heere anon.
Rob.
The King doth keepe his Reuels here to night,
Take heed the Queene come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A louely boy stolne from an Indian King,
She neuer had so sweet a changeling,
And iealous Oberon would haue the childe
Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrests wilde.
But she (perforce) with-holds the loued boy,
Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her
ioy.
And now they neuer meete in groue, or greene,
Ob.
Ill met by Moone-light.
Proud Tytania.
Qu.
What, iealous Oberon? Fairy skip hence.
I haue forsworne his bed and companie.
Ob.
Tarrie rash Wanton; am not I thy Lord?
Qu.
Then I must be thy Lady: but I know
When thou wast stolne away from Fairy Land,
And in the shape of Corin, sate all day,
Playing on pipes of Corne, and versing loue
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou heere
Come from the farthest steepe of India?
But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon
Your buskind Mistresse, and your Warrior loue,
To Theseus must be Wedded; and you come,
To giue their bed ioy and prosperitie.
Ob.
How canst thou thus for shame Tytania.
Glance at my credite, with Hippolita?
Knowing I know thy loue to Theseus?
Ob.
Wel, go thy way: thou shalt not from this groue,
Till I torment thee for this iniury.
My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest
Since once I sat vpon a promontory,
And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,
Vttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
Deme.
I loue thee not, therefore pursue me not,
Where is Lysander, and faire Hermia?
The one Ile stay, the other stayeth me.
Thou toldst me they were stolne into this wood;
And heere am I, and wood within this wood,
Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more
Hel.
You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,
But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart
Is true as steele. Leaue you your power to draw,
And I shall haue no power to follow you.
Deme.
Do I entice you? do I speake you faire?
Or rather doe I not in plainest truth,
Tell you I doe not, nor I cannot loue you?
Hel.
And euen for that doe I loue thee the more;
I am your spaniell, and Demetrius,
Ob.
Fare thee well Nymph, ere he do leaue this groue,
Thou shalt flie him, and he shall seeke thy loue.
Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer.
Enter Pucke.
Puck.
I there it is
Ob.
I pray thee giue it me.
I know a banke where the wilde time blowes,
Queen.
Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song;
Then for the third part of a minute hence,
Some to kill Cankers in the muske rose buds,
Some warre with Reremise, for their leathern
wings.
To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe
backe
The clamorous Owle that nightly hoots and
wonders
At our queint spirits: Sing me now asleepe,
Then to your offices, and let me rest.
Fairies Sing.
You spotted
Snakes with
double tongue,
Thorny
Hedgehogges be
not seene,
Newts and blinde
wormes do no
wrong,
Come not neere
our Fairy
Queene.
Philomele with
melodie,
Sing in your
sweet Lullaby.
Lulla, lulla,
lullaby, lulla,
lulla, lullaby,
Neuer harme,
nor spell, nor
charme,
Come our louely
Lady nye,
So good night
with Lullaby.
2.Fairy.
Weauing Spiders
come not heere,
Hence you long
legd Spinners,
hence:
Beetles blacke
approach not
neere;
Worme nor
Snayle doe no
offence.
Philomele with
melody, &c.
1.Fairy.
Hence away,
now all is
well;
One aloofe,
stand
Centinell.
Shee sleepes.
Enter Oberon.
Ober.
What thou seest when thou dost wake,
Do it for thy true Loue take:
Loue and languish for his sake.
Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,
Lis.
Faire loue, you faint with wandring in y woods,
And to speake troth I haue forgot our way:
Weell rest vs Hermia, If you thinke it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Her.
Be it so Lysander; finde you out a bed,
For I vpon this banke will rest my head.
Lys.
One turfe shall serue as pillow for vs both,
One heart, one bed, two bosomes, and one troth.
Her.
Nay good Lysander, for my sake my deere
Lie further off yet, doe not lie so neere.
Lys.
O take the sence sweet, of my innocence,
Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,
I meane that my heart vnto yours is knit,
So that but one heart can you make of it.
Two bosomes interchanged with an oath,
So then two bosomes, and a single troth.
Then by your side, no bed-roome me deny,
For lying so, Hermia, I doe not lye.
Her.
Lysander riddles very prettily;
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied.
But gentle friend, for loue and courtesie
Lie further off, in humane modesty,
Such separation, as may well be said,
Becomes a vertuous batchelour, and a maide,
So farre be distant, and good night sweet friend;
Thy loue nere alter, till thy sweet life end.
Lys.
Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I,
And then end life, when I end loyalty:
Puck.
Through the Forest haue I gone,
But Athenian finde I none,
One whose eyes I might approue
This flowers force in stirring loue.
Nigh and silence: who is heere?
Weedes of Athens he doth weare:
This is he (my master said)
Despised the Athenian maide:
And heere the maiden sleeping sound,
On the danke and durty ground.
Pretty soule, she durst not lye
Neere this lacke-loue, this kill-curtesie.
Churle, vpon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charme doth owe:
When thou wakst, let loue forbid
Hel.
Stay, though thou kill me, sweete Demetrius.
De.
I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus.
Hel.
O wilt thou darkling leaue me? do not so.
De.
Stay on thy perill, I alone will goe.
Exit Demetrius.
Hel.
O I am out of breath, in this fond chace,
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace,
Happy is Hermia, wheresoere she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractiue eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt
teares.
If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.
No, no, I am as vgly as a Beare;
For beasts that meete me, runne away for feare,
Therefore no maruaile, though Demetrius
Doe as a monster, flie my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glasse of mine,
Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander on the ground;
Deade or asleepe? I see no bloud, no wound,
Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake.
Lys.
And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
Transparent Helena, nature her shewes art,
That through thy bosome makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? oh how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!
Hel.
Do not say so Lysander, say not so:
What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what
though?
Yet Hermia still loues you; then be content.
Lys.
Content with Hermia? no, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her haue spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena now I loue;
Who will not change a Rauen for a Doue?
The will of man is by his reason swayd:
And reason saies you are the worthier Maide.
Things growing are not ripe vntill their season;
So I being yong, till now ripe not to reason,
And touching now the point of humane skill,
Reason becomes the Marshall to my will.
And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke
Loues stories, written in Loues richest booke.
Hel.
Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
When at your hands did I deserue this scorne?
Ist not enough, ist not enough, yong man,
That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
Lys.
She sees not Hermia: Hermia sleepe thou there,
And neuer maist thou come Lysander neere;
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomacke brings:
Or as the heresies that men do leaue,
Are hated most of those that did deceiue:
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresie,
Of all be hated; but the most of me;
And all my powers addresse your loue and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her Knight.
Exit.
Her.
Helpe me Lysander, helpe me; do thy best
To plucke this crawling serpent from my brest.
Aye me, for pitty; what a dreame was here?
Lysander looke, how I do quake with feare:
Me-thought a serpent eate my heart away,
And yet sat smiling at his cruell prey.
Lysander, What remooud? Lysander, Lord,
What, out of hearing, gone? No sound, no word?
Alacke where are you? speake and if you heare:
Speake of all loues; I sound almost with feare.
No, then I well perceiue you are not nye,
Either death or you Ile finde immediately.
Exit.
Actus Tertius.
Bot.
Are we all met?
Quin.
Pat, pat, and heres a maruailous conuenient
place for our rehearsall. This greene plot shall be
our
stage, this hauthorne brake our tyring house, and
we will
do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke.
Bot.
Peter Quince?
Peter.
What saist thou, bully Bottome?
Bot.
There are things in this Comedy of Piramus and
Thisby, that will neuer please. First, Piramus must
draw a
a Lyon.
Bot.
Nay, you must name his name, and halfe his face
must be seene through the Lyons necke, and he
himselfe
must speake through, saying thus, or to the same
defect;
Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would wish you, or I
would
request you, or I would entreat you, not to feare,
not to
tremble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come
hither
as a Lyon, it were pitty of my life. No, I am no
such
thing, I am a man as other men are; and there
indeed let
him name his name, and tell him plainly hee is
Snug the
ioyner.
Quin.
Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard
things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a
chamber:
for you know Piramus and Thisby meete by
Moonelight.
Sn.
Doth the Moone shine that night wee play our
play?
Bot.
A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack,
finde out Moone-shine, finde out Moone-shine.
Enter Pucke.
Quin.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
Bot.
Why then may you leaue a casement of the great
chamber window (where we play) open, and the
Moone
may shine in at the casement.
Quin.
Rob.
What hempen home-spuns haue we swaggering
here,
So neere the Cradle of the Faierie Queene?
What, a Play toward? Ile be an auditor,
An Actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin.
Speake Piramus: Thisby stand forth.
Pir.
Thisby, the flowers of odious sauors sweete.
Quin.
Odours, odours.
Pir.
Odours sauors sweete,
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby deare.
But harke, a voyce: stay thou but here a while,
And by and by I will to thee appeare.
Exit. Pir.
Puck.
A stranger Piramus, then ere plaid here.
This.
Must I speake now?
Pet.
I marry must you. For you must vnderstand he
goes but to see a noyse that he heard, and is to
come againe.
Thys.
Most radiant Piramus, most Lilly white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant bryer,
Most brisky Iuuenall, and eke most louely Iew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre,
Puk.
Ile follow you, Ile leade you about a Round,
Bot.
Why do they run away? This is a knauery of
them to make me afeard.
Enter Snowt
Sn.
O Bottom, thou art changd; What doe I see on
thee?
Bot.
What do you see? You see an Asse-head of your
owne, do you?
Enter Peter Quince.
Pet.
Blesse thee Bottome, blesse thee; thou art
translated.
Exit
Bot.
I see their knauery; this is to make an asse of me,
to fright me if they could; but I will not stirre from
this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and
downe
here, and I will sing that they shall heare I am not
afraid.
The Woosell cocke, so blacke of hew,
With Orenge-tawny bill.
The Throstle, with his note so true,
The Wren and little quill.
Tyta.
What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?
Bot.
The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
The plainsong Cuckow gray;
Whose note full many a man doth marke,
And dares not answere, nay.
For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a
bird?
Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry
Cuckow,
neuer so?
Tyta.
I pray thee gentle mortall, sing againe,
Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;
On the first view to say, to sweare I loue thee.
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue
me
Bot.
Me-thinkes mistresse, you should haue little
reason for that: and yet to say the truth, reason and
loue keepe little company together, nowadayes.
The more the pittie, that some honest neighbours
will
not make them friends. Nay, I can gleeke vpon
occasion.
Tyta.
Thou art as wise, as thou art beautifull.
Bot.
Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get
out of this wood, I haue enough to serue mine
owne
turne.
Tyta.
Out of this wood, do not desire to goe,
Thou shalt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate:
The Summer still doth tend vpon my state,
And I doe loue thee; therefore goe with me,
Ile giue thee Fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost
sleepe:
And I will purge thy mortall grossenesse so,
That thou shalt like an airie spirit go.
Enter Pease-blossome, Cobweb, Moth,
Mustardseede, and foure Fairies
.
Fai.
Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where shall we go?
Tita.
Be kinde and curteous to this Gentleman,
Hop in his walkes, and gambole in his eies,
Feede him with Apricocks, and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes, greene Figs, and Mulberries,
The honie-bags steale from the humble Bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighes,
And light them at the fierie-Glow-wormes eyes,
To haue my loue to bed, and to arise:
And plucke the wings from painted Butterflies,
To fan the Moone-beames from his sleeping eies.
Nod to him Elues, and doe him curtesies.
1.Fai.
Bot.
I pray you commend me to mistresse Squash,
your mother, and to master Peascod your father.
Good
master Pease-blossome, I shal desire of you more
acquaintance to. Your name I beseech you sir?
Mus.
Mustard-seede.
Peas.
Pease-blossome.
Bot.
Good master Mustard seede, I know your patience
well: that same cowardly gyant-like Oxe beefe
hath deuoured 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
Mustard-seede.
Tita.
Come waite vpon him, lead him to my bower.
Ob.
I wonder if Titania be awakt;
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on, in extremitie.
Enter Pucke.
catch,
I led them on in this distracted feare,
And left sweete Piramus translated there:
When in that moment (so it came to passe)
Tytania waked, and straightway loud an Asse.
Ob.
This fals out better then I could deuise:
But hast thou yet lacht the Athenians eyes,
With the loue iuyce, as I bid thee doe?
Rob.
I tooke him sleeping (that is finisht to)
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That when he wakt, of force she must be eyde.
Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
Ob.
Stand close, this is the same Athenian.
Rob.
This is the woman, but not this the man.
Dem.
O why rebuke you him that loues you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Her.
Now I but chide, but I should vse thee worse.
For thou (I feare) hast giuen me cause to curse,
If thou hast slaine Lysander in his sleepe,
Being oreshooes in bloud, plunge in the deepe,
and kill
me too:
The Sunne was not so true vnto the day,
As he to me. Would he haue stollen away,
From sleeping Hermia? Ile beleeue as soone
This whole earth may be bord, and that the Moone
May through the Center creepe, and so displease
Her brothers noonetide, with thAntipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murdred him,
So should a murtherer looke, so dead, so grim.
Dem.
So should the murderer looke, and so should I,
Pierst through the heart with your stearne cruelty:
Yet you the murderer lookes as bright as cleare,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering spheare.
Her.
Whats this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou giue him me?
Dem.
Ide rather giue his carkasse to my hounds.
Her.
Out dog, out cur, thou driust me past the bounds
Of maidens patience. Hast thou slaine him then?
Henceforth be neuer numbred among men.
Oh, once tell true, euen for my sake,
Durst thou a lookt vpon him, being awake?
And hast thou killd him sleeping? O braue tutch:
Could not a worme, an Adder do so much?
An Adder did it: for with doubler tongue
Then thine (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung.
Dem.
You spend your passion on a misprisd mood,
I am not guiltie of Lysanders blood:
Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.
Her.
Dem.
There is no following her in this fierce vaine,
Here therefore for a while I will remaine.
So sorrowes heauinesse doth heauier grow:
For debt that bankrout slip doth sorrow owe,
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay.
Lie downe.
Ob.
Hel.
Nor none in my minde, now you giue her ore.
Lys.
Demetrius loues her, and he loues not you.
Awa
.
Dem.
O Helen, goddesse, nimph, perfect, diuine,
To what, my loue, shall I compare thine eyne!
Christall is muddy, O how ripe in show,
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow,
Fand with the Easterne winde, turnes to a crow,
When thou holdst vp thy hand. O let me kisse
This Princesse of pure white, this seale of blisse.
Hell.
O spight! O hell! I see you are all bent
To set against me, for your merriment:
If you were ciuill, and knew curtesie,
You would not doe me thus much iniury.
Dem.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia, I will none:
If ere I loud her, all that loue is gone.
My heart to her, but as guest-wise soiournd,
And now to Helen it is home returnd,
There to remaine.
Lys.
It is not so.
De.
Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
Lest to thy perill thou abide it deare.
Looke where thy Loue comes, yonder is thy
deare.
Enter Hermia.
Her.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The eare more quicke of apprehension makes,
Wherein it doth impaire the seeing sense,
It paies the hearing double recompence.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found,
Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that sound.
Hel.
I, doe, perseuer, counterfeit sad lookes,
Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe,
Winke each at other, hold the sweete iest vp:
This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument:
But fare ye well,tis partly mine owne fault,
Which death or absence soone shall remedie.
Lys.
Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuse,
My loue, my life, my soule, faire Helena.
Hel.
O excellent!
Her.
Sweete, do not scorne her so.
Dem.
If she cannot entreate, I can compell.
Lys.
Thou canst compell, no more then she entreate.
Lys.
Hang off thou cat, thou bur; vile thing let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
Her.
Why are you growne so rude?
What change is this sweete Loue?
Lys.
Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out;
Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence.
Her.
Do you not iest?
Hel.
Yes sooth, and so do you.
Lys.
Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee.
Dem.
I would I had your bond: for I perceiue
A weake bond holds you; Ile not trust your word.
Lys.
What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so.
Her.
What, can you do me greater harme then hate?
Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my
Loue?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as faire now, as I was ere while.
Since night you loud me: yet since night you left
me.
Why then you left me (O the gods forbid)
In earnest, shall I say?
Lys.
I, by my life;
And neuer did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
Be certaine, nothing truer:tis no iest,
That I do hate thee, and loue Helena.
Her.
O me, you iugler, you canker blossome,
Her.
Why get you gone: who ist that hinders you?
Hel.
A foolish heart, that I leaue here behinde.
Her.
What, with Lysander?
Her.
With Demetrius.
Lys.
Be not afraid, she shall not harme thee Helena.
Dem.
No sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
Hel.
O when shes angry, she is keene and shrewd,
She was a vixen when she went to schoole,
And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Her.
Little againe? Nothing but low and little?
Her.
You Mistris, all this coyle is long of you.
Nay, goe not backe.
Hel.
I will not trust you I,
Nor longer stay in your curst companie.
Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though to runne away.
Enter Oberon and Pucke.
Ob.
This is thy negligence, still thou mistakst,
Or else committst thy knaueries willingly.
Puck.
Beleeue me, King of shadowes, I mistooke,
Did not you tell me, I should know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on?
Lys.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius?
Speake thou now.
Rob.
Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou?
Lys.
I will be with thee straight.
Rob.
Follow me then to plainer ground.
Enter Demetrius.
Dem.
Lysander, speake againe;
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speake in some bush: Where dost thou hide thy
head?
Rob.
Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou lookst for wars,
And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou
childe,
Ile whip thee with a rod. He is defild
That drawes a sword on thee.
Dem.
Yea, art thou there?
Ro.
Follow my voice, wel try no manhood here.
Exit.
Lys.
He goes before me, and still dares me on,
When I come where he cals, then hes gone.
The Villaine is much lighter heeld then I:
I followed fast, but faster he did flye;
shifting places.
That fallen am I in darke vneuen way,
And here wil rest me. Come thou gentle day:
lye down.
For if but once thou shew me thy gray light,
Ile finde Demetrius, and reuenge this spight.
Enter Robin and Demetrius.
Rob.
Ho, ho, ho; coward, why comst thou not?
Dem.
Abide me, if thou darst. For well I wot,
Thou runst before me, shifting euery place,
And darst not stand, nor looke me in the face.
Where art thou?
Rob.
Come hither, I am here.
Dem.
Nay then thou mockst me; thou shalt buy this
deere,
If euer I thy face by day-light see.
Now goe thy way: faintnesse constraineth me,
To measure out my length on this cold bed,
By daies approach looke to be visited.
Enter Helena.
Hel.
O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy houres, shine comforts from the East,
That I may backe to Athens by day-light,
Actus Quartus.
Tita.
Come, sit thee downe vpon this flowry bed,
While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy,
And sticke muske roses in thy sleeke smoothe
head,
And kisse thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy.
Clow.
Wheres Peaseblossome?
Peas.
Ready.
Clow.
Scratch my head, Pease-blossome. Whers
Mounsieuer
Cobweb.
Cob.
Ready.
Clowne.
Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsier get your
weapons in your hand, & kill me a red hipt
humble-Bee,
on the top of a thistle; and good Mounsieur bring
mee
the hony bag. Doe not fret your selfe too much in
the
action, Mounsieur; and good mounsieur haue a
care the
hony bag breake not, I would be loth to haue you
ouerflowne
with a hony-bag signiour. Wheres Mounsieur
Mustardseed?
Mus.
Ready.
Clo.
Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseed.
Pray you leaue your courtesie good Mounsieur.
Mus.
Whats your will?
Clo.
Nothing good Mounsieur, but to help Caualery
Cobweb to scratch. I must to the Barbers
Mounsieur, for
me-thinkes I am maruellous hairy about the face.
And I
am such a tender asse, if my haire do but tickle
me, I must
scratch.
Tita.
What, wilt thou heare some musicke, my sweet
loue.
Clow.
I haue a reasonable good eare in musicke. Let
vs haue the tongs and the bones.
Musicke Tongs, Rurall Musicke.
Tita.
Or say sweete Loue, what thou desirest to eat.
Clowne.
Truly a pecke of Prouender; I could munch
your good dry Oates. Me-thinkes I haue a great
desire
to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweete hay hath no
fellow.
Tita.
I haue a venturous Fairy,
That shall seeke the Squirrels hoard,
And fetch thee new Nuts.
Clown. I had rather haue a handfull or two of
dried
pease. But I pray you let none of your people
stirre me, I
haue an exposition of sleepe come vpon me.
Tyta.
Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my arms,
Fairies be gone, and be alwaies away.
So doth the woodbine, the sweet Honisuckle,
Ob.
Welcome good Robin:
Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I doe begin to pitty.
For meeting her of late behinde the wood,
Seeking sweet sauours for this hatefull foole,
I did vpbraid 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 somtime on the buds,
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearles;
Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes,
Like teares that did their owne disgrace bewaile.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in milde termes begd my patience,
I then did aske of her, her changeling childe,
Which straight she gaue me, and her fairy sent
To beare him to my Bower in Fairy Land.
Tita.
How came these things to passe?
Oh, how mine eyes doth loath this visage now!
Ob.
Silence a while. Robin take off his head:
Titania, musick call, and strike more dead
Then common sleepe; of all these, fine the sense.
Tita.
Musicke, ho musicke, such as charmeth sleepe.
Musick still.
Rob.
When thou wakst, with thine owne fooles eies
peepe.
Ob.
Sound musick; come my Queen, take hands with
me
And rocke the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I new in amity,
And will to morrow midnight, solemnly
Winde Hornes.
Thes.
Goe one of you, finde out the Forrester,
For now our obseruation is performd;
And since we haue the vaward of the day,
My Loue shall heare the musicke of my hounds.
Vncouple in the Westerne valley, let them goe;
Dispatch I say, and finde the Forrester.
We will faire Queene, vp to the Mountains top,
And marke the musicall confusion
Of hounds and eccho in coniunction.
Hip.
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once.
When in a wood of Creete they bayed the Beare
With hounds of Sparta; neuer did I heare
Such gallant chiding. For besides the groues,
The skies, the fountaines, euery region neere,
Thes.
Good morrow friends: Saint Valentine is past,
Begin these wood birds but to couple now?
Lys.
Pardon my Lord.
Thes.
I pray you all stand vp.
Dem.
These things seeme small & vndistinguishable,
Like farre off mountaines turned into Clouds.
Her.
Me-thinks I see these things with parted eye,
When euery thing seemes double.
Hel.
So me-thinkes:
And I haue found Demetrius, like a iewell,
Mine owne, and not mine owne.
Dem.
It seemes to mee,
Clo.
When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer.
My next is, most faire Piramus. Hey ho. Peter
Quince?
Quin.
Haue you sent to Bottomes house? Is he come
home yet?
Staru.
He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt hee is
transported.
This.
If he come not, then the play is mard. It goes
not forward, doth it?
Quin.
It is not possible: you haue not a man in all
Athens, able to discharge Piramus but he.
This.
No, hee hath simply the best wit of any handycraft
man in Athens.
Quin.
Yea, and the best person too, and hee is a very
Paramour, for a sweet voyce.
This.
You must say, Paragon. A Paramour is (God
blesse vs) a thing of nought.
Enter Snug the Ioyner.
Snug.
Masters, the Duke is comming from the Temple,
and there is two or three Lords & Ladies more
married.
If our sport had gone forward, we had all bin
made
men.
This.
O sweet bully Bottome: thus hath he lost
sixepence
a day, during his life; he could not haue scaped
sixpence
a day. And the Duke had not giuen him sixpence
a day for playing Piramus, Ile be hangd. He
would haue
deserued it. Sixpence a day in Piramus, or
nothing.
Enter Bottome.
Bot.
Where are these Lads? Where are these hearts?
Quin.
Bottome, o most couragious day! O most happie
houre!
Bot.
Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me
it is a
sweet Comedy. No more words: away, go away.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Hip.
Tis strange my Theseus, y these louers speake of.
The.
More strange then true. I neuer may beleeue
These anticke fables, nor these Fairy toyes,
Louers and mad men haue such seething braines,
Such shaping phantasies, that apprehend more
Then coole reason euer comprehends.
The.
Heere come the louers, full of ioy and mirth:
Ioy, gentle friends, ioy and fresh dayes
Of loue accompany your hearts.
Lys.
More then to vs, waite in your royall walkes,
your boord, your bed.
The.
Come now, what maskes, what dances shall
we haue,
To weare away this long age of three houres,
Between our after supper, and bed-time?
Where is our vsuall manager of mirth?
What Reuels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing houre?
Call Egeus.
Ege.
Heere mighty Theseus.
The.
Lis.
The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death
of learning, late deceast in beggerie.
The.
That is some Satire keene and criticall,
Not sorting with a nuptiall ceremonie.
Lis.
A tedious breefe Scene of yong Piramus,
And his loue Thisby; very tragicall mirth.
The.
Merry and tragicall? Tedious, and briefe? That
is, hot ice, and wondrous strange snow. How shall
wee
finde the concord of this discord?
Ege.
A play there is, my Lord, some ten words long,
Which is as breefe, as I haue knowne 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.
Thes.
I will heare that play. For neuer any thing
Can be amisse, when simplenesse and duty tender
it.
Goe bring them in, and take your places, Ladies.
Hip.
I loue not to see wretchednesse orecharged;
And duty in his seruice perishing.
Thes.
Why gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
Hip.
He saies, they can doe nothing in this kinde.
Thes.
The kinder we, to giue them thanks for nothing
Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake;
And what poore duty cannot doe, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I haue come, great Clearkes haue purposed
To greete me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I haue seene them shiuer and looke pale,
Quince.
Pro.
If we offend, it is with our good will.
Thes.
His speech was like a tangled chaine: nothing
impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?
Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.
Prol.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show,
But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine.
This man is Piramus, if you would know;
This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine.
This man, with lyme and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile wall, which did these louers sunder:
And through walls chink (poor soules) they are
content
To whisper. At the which, let no man wonder.
This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and bush of
thorne,
Presenteth moone-shine. For if you will know,
By moone-shine did these Louers thinke no
scorne
To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe:
This grizly beast (which Lyon hight by name)
The trusty Thisby, comming first by night,
Did scarre away, or rather did affright:
And as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did staine.
Anon comes Piramus, sweet youth and tall,
And findes his Thisbies Mantle slaine;
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade,
He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breast,
And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lyon, Moone-shine, Wall, and Louers twaine,
At large discourse, while here they doe remaine.
Exit all but Wall.
Thes.
I wonder if the Lion be to speake.
Deme.
No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when
many Asses doe.
Wall.
In this same Interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snowt (by name) present a wall:
And such a wall, as I would haue you thinke,
That had in it a crannied hole or chinke:
Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie
Did whisper often, very secretly.
This loame, this rough-cast, and this stone doth
shew,
That I am that same Wall; the truth is so.
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearfull Louers are to whisper.
Thes.
Would you desire Lime and Haire to speake
better?
Deme.
It is the wittiest partition, that euer I heard
discourse, my Lord.
Thes.
Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, silence.
Enter Pyramus.
Pir.
O grim lookt night, o night with hue so blacke,
O night, which euer art, when day is not:
O night, o night, alacke, alacke, alacke,
I feare my Thisbies promise is forgot.
And thou o wall, thou sweet and louely wall,
That stands between her fathers ground and mine,
Thou wall, o Wall, o sweet and louely wall,
Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through with mine
eine.
Thankes courteous wall. Ioue shield thee well for
this.
But what see I? No Thisbie doe I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no blisse,
Curst be thy stones for thus deceiuing mee.
Thes.
The wall me-thinkes being sensible, should
curse againe.
Pir.
No in truth sir, he should not. Deceiuing me,
Is Thisbies cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy
Her through the wall. You shall see it will fall.
Enter Thisbie.
Pat as I told you; yonder she comes
This.
O wall, full often hast thou heard my mones,
For parting my faire Piramus, and me
My cherry lips haue often kist thy stones;
Thy stones with Lime and Haire knit vp in thee
Pyra.
I see a voyce; now will I to the chinke,
To spy and I can heare my Thisbies face. Thisbie?
This.
My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke
Pir.
Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Louers grace,
Du.
Now is the morall downe between the two
Neighbors.
Dem.
No remedie my Lord, when Wals are so wilfull,
to heare without warning.
Dut.
This is the silliest stuffe that ere I heard.
Du.
The best in this kind are but shadowes, and the
worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Dut.
It must be your imagination then, & not theirs.
Duk.
Lyon.
You Ladies, you (whose gentle harts do feare
The smallest monstrous mouse that creepes on
floore)
May now perchance, both quake and tremble
heere,
When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roare.
Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am
A Lion fell, nor else no Lions dam:
For if I should as Lion come in strife
Into this place,twere pittie of my life.
Du.
A verie gentle beast, and of good conscience.
Dem.
The verie best at a beast, my Lord, y ere I saw.
Lis.
This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor.
Du.
True, and a Goose for his discretion.
Dem.
Not so my Lord: for his valor cannot carrie
his discretion, and the fox carries the Goose.
Du.
His discretion I am sure cannot carrie his valor:
for the Goose carries not the Fox. It is well; leaue
it to
his discretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone.
Moone. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone
present:
De.
He should haue worne the hornes on his head.
Du.
Hee is no crescent, and his hornes are inuisible,
Lys.
Proceed Moone.
Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone;
this
thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my
dog.
Dem.
Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for
they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes
Thisby.
Enter Thisby.
This.
This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue?
Lyon.
Oh.
The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.
Dem.
Well roard Lion.
Du.
Well run Thisby.
Dut.
Well shone Moone.
Truly the Moone shines with a good grace.
Du.
Wel mouzd Lion.
Dem.
And then came Piramus.
Lys.
And so the Lion vanisht.
Enter Piramus.
Pyr.
cheere.
Come teares, confound: Out sword, and wound
The pap of Piramus:
I, that left pap, where heart doth hop;
Thus dye I, thus, thus, thus.
Now am I dead, now am I fled, my soule is in the
sky,
Tongue lose thy light, Moone take thy flight,
Now dye, dye, dye, dye, dye.
Dem.
No Die, but an ace for him; for he is but one.
Lis.
Lesse then an ace man. For he is dead, he is
nothing.
Du.
With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet recouer,
and proue an Asse.
Dut.
How chance Moone-shine is gone before?
Thisby comes backe, and findes her Louer.
Enter Thisby.
Duke.
She wil finde him by starre-light.
Heere she comes, and her passion ends the play.
Dut.
Me thinkes shee should not vse a long one for
such a Piramus: I hope she will be breefe.
Dem.
A Moth wil turne the ballance, which Piramus
which Thisby is the better.
Lys.
She hath spyed him already, with those sweete
eyes.
Dem.
And thus she meanes, videlicit.
This.
Asleepe my Loue? What, dead my Doue?
O Piramus arise:
Speake, speake. Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A
tombe
Must couer thy sweet eyes.
These Lilly Lips, this cherry nose,
These yellow Cowslip cheekes
Are gone, are gone: Louers make mone:
His eyes were greene as Leekes.
O Sisters three, come, come to mee,
With hands as pale as Milke,
Lay them in gore, since you haue shore
with sheeres, his thred of silke.
Tongue not a word: Come trusty sword:
Come blade, my brest imbrue:
And farwell friends, thus Thisbie ends;
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Duk.
Moone-shine & Lion are left to burie the dead.
Deme.
I, and Wall too.
Bot.
No, I assure you, the wall is downe, that parted
their Fathers. Will it please you to see the
Epilogue, or
Exeunt.
Enter Pucke.
Puck.
Now the hungry Lyons rores,
And the Wolfe beholds the Moone:
Whilest the heauy ploughman snores,
All with weary taske fore-done.
Now the wasted brands doe glow,
Whilst the scritch-owle, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shrowd.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graues, all gaping wide,
Euery one lets forth his spright,
In the Church-way paths to glide,
And we Fairies, that do runne,
By the triple Hecates teame,
From the presence of the Sunne,
Following darkenesse like a dreame,
Now are frollicke; not a Mouse
Ob.
Through the house giue glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsie fier,
Euerie Elfe and Fairie spright,
Hop as light as bird from brier,
And this Ditty after me, sing and dance it
trippinglie.
Tita.
First rehearse this song by roate,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand, with Fairie grace,
Will we sing and blesse this place.
The Song.
Now vntill the
breake of day,
Through this
house each
Fairy stray.
To the best
Bride-bed will
we,
Which by vs
shall blessed be:
And the issue
there create,
Euer shall be
fortunate:
So shall all the
couples three,
Euer true in
louing be:
And the blots of
Natures hand,
Shall not in their
issue stand.
Neuer mole,
harelip, nor
scarre,
nor mark
prodigious, such
as are
Despised in
Natiuitie,
Shall vpon their
children be.
With this field
dew consecrate,
Euery Fairy take
his gate,
And each
seuerall
chamber blesse,
Through this
Pallace with
sweet peace,
Euer shall in
safety rest.
And the owner of
it blest.
Trip away, make
no stay;
Meet me all by
breake of day.
Robin.
If we shadowes haue offended,
Thinke but this (and all is mended)
That you haue but slumbred heere,
While these Visions did appeare.
And this weake and idle theame,
No more yeelding but a dreame,
Gentles, doe not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
And as I am an honest Pucke,
If we haue vnearned lucke,
Now to scape the Serpents tongue,
We will make amends ere long:
Else the Pucke a lyar call.
So good night vnto you all.
Giue me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
FINIS.