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But, fare you well. Perforce, I must confefs,

I thought you lord of more true gentleness :
O, that a lady, of one man refus’d,

Should of another therefore be abus'd!

Lyf. She fees not Hermia; Hermia, fleep thou there,
And never may'st thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to a stomach brings;
Or, as the herefies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my surfeit, and my herefy,
Of all be hated, but the moft, of me!
And, all my pow'rs, addrefs your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her knight!

Her. Help me, Lyfander, help me! do thy best
To pluck this crawling ferpent from my breast!
Ah me, for pity! what a dream was here?
Lyfander, look, how do I quake with fear :
Methought, a ferpent eat my heart away,
And you fat fmiling at his cruel prey:
Lyfander! what, remov'd? Lyfander, lord!
What, out of hearing, gone? no found, no word?
Alack, where are you? fpeak, and if you hear,
Speak, of all loves; I fwoon almost with fear.
No? then I well perceive you are not nigh;
Or death, or you, I'll find immediately.

[Exit.

[Exit.

[Exit.

ACT

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Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snowt, and Starveling.

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Quin. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot fhall be our stage, this hauthorn-brake our tiring houfe, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke.

Bot. Peter Quince!

Quin. What fay'ft thou, bully Bottom?

Boz. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a fword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot abide. How answer

you that? Snowt. By'rlakin, a parlous fear ! Star. I believe, we must leave the killing out, when all is done. Bot. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well: write me a prologue; and let the prologue feem to fay, we will do no harm with our fwords; and, that Pyramus is not kill'd indeed; and, for more better affurance, tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver; this will put them out of fear.

Quin. Well, we will have fuch a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and fix.

Bot. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

Snowt. Will not the ladies be afraid of the lion?
Star. I fear it, I promise you.

Bot. Mafters, you ought to confider with yourselves; to bring in, God shield us, a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing;

for

for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to look to it.

Snowt. Therefore, another prologue must tell, he is not a lion. Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck, and he himself must speak through, faying thus, or to the fame defect; Ladies, or, fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would intreat you, not to fear, not to tremble; my life for yours: if think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life; no, I am no fuch thing; I am a man as other men are; and there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner.

you

Quin. Well, it fhall be fo; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber; for you know Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.

Snug. Doth the moon fhine that night we play our play? Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; find out moon-fhine, find out moon-fhine.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.

Bot. Why, then may you leave a cafement of the great chamber window, where we play, open, and the moon may fhine in at the casement.

Quin. Ay, or elfe one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and fay, he comes to disfigure, or to prefent the person of moon-fhine. Then there is another thing, we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the ftory, did talk through the chink of a wall.

Snug. You can never bring in a wall. What fay you, Bottom? Bot. Some man or other must present wall; and let him have fome plafter, or some lome, or fome rough-cast about him, to fignify wall: or, let him hold his fingers thus; and through the cranny fhall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.

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

SCENE

SCENE II.

Enter Puck.

Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,

So near the cradle of the fairy queen?

What, a play tow'rd? I'll be an auditor;

An actor too, perhaps, if I fee caufe.

Quin. Speak, Pyramus; Thisby, ftand forth.
Pyr. Thisby, the flower of odious favours fweet.
Quin. Odours, odours.

Pyr. Odours favours fweet,

So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear:

But hark, a voice! stay thou but here a whit,
And by and by I will to thee appear.

Puck. A ftranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here!
This. Muft I speak now?

[Exit Pyr. [Afide.

Quin. Ay, marry, muft you; for, you must understand, he

goes but to fee a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

This. Moft radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,

Of colour like the red rofe on triumphant brier,

Moft brifkly Juvenile, and eke moft 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 paft; it is, never tire. Thif. O, As true as trueft horse, that yet would never tire.

Re-enter Bottom with an afs's head.

Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.

Quin. O monftrous! o ftrange! we are haunted; pray, mafters, fly, mafters, help! [The clowns exeunt. Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,

Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier; Sometimes a horfe I'll be, fometimes a hound,

A hog,

A hog, a headless bear, fometime 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.

Enter Snowt.

Snowt. O Bottom, thou art chang'd! what do I fee on thee? Bot. What do you fee? fee an afs-head of your own, do you?

you

Enter Quince.

Quin. Blefs thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art tranflated. [Exit. Bot. I fee their knavery; this is to make an ass of me, to fright me if they could: but I will not ftir from this place, do what they can; I will walk up and down here, and I will fing, that they shall hear I am not afraid.

The oufel cock, fo black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,

The throftle with his note fo true,

The wren with little quill.

[Sings.

Queen. What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? [Waking. Bot. The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

The plain-fong cuckoo gray,

Whofe note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not anfwer, nay.

[Sings.

For, indeed, who would fet his wit to fo foolish a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry, cuckoo, never so? Queen. I pray thee, gentle mortal, fing again;

Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,

So is mine eye enthralled to thy fhape;

And thy fair virtue's force, perforce, doth move me,
On the first view to say, to fwear, I love thee.

Bot. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that: and yet, to fay the truth, reafon and love keep little company together now-a-days. The more the pity, that fome honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek, upon occafion.

Queen.

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