Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia: But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food; The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met; For in the temple, by and by with us, Come, Hippolyta. [Exeunt THE. HIP. EGE. and train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double. Hel. So methinks: And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Dem. Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me, Do not you think, As they go out, Borтoм awakes. [Exeunt. Bot. 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. [Exit. SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Quince's House. Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and StarvELING. Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet? Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is transported. Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred; It goes not forward, doth it? Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus, but he. Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens. Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very paramour, for a sweet voice. Flu. You must say, paragon: a paramour is, God bless us, a thing of nought. Enter SNUG. 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. Flu. 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 hang'd; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing. Enter BOTTOM. Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? Quin. Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour! Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out. Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom. Bot. 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 Thisby 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 garlick, 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. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. The same. An Apartment in the Palace of THESEUS. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Attendants. Hip. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of. The. More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, More than cool reason ever comprehends. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is, the madman; the lover, all as frantick, 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; Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigur'd so together, And grows to something of great constancy; Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA. Lys. More than to us Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed! To wear away this long age of three hours, Philost. Here, mighty Theseus. The, Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What mask? what musick? How shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with some delight? Philost. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe; Make choice of which your highness will see first. [Giving a paper. The. [Reads.] 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. The thrice three Muses mourning for the death A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord? Philost. 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; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never labour'd in their minds till now; And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories With this same play against your nuptial. The. And we will hear it. Philost. 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 stretch'd, and conn'd with cruel pain, To do you service. The. I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in:-and take your places, ladies. [Exit PHILOSTRATE. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his service perishing. The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue, |