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Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can tranfpofe to form and dignity:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind;
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment tafte;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy hafte.
And therefore is love faid to be a child,
Because in choice he often is beguil❜d.

As waggifh boys themfelves in game forfwear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where.
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;
And when this hail fome heat from Hermia felt,
So he diffolv'd, and fhowers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
Purfue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expence.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his fight thither, and back again.



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

Quin. IS all our company here?

Bot. You were beft to call them generally man by man, according to the fcrip.

Quin. Here is the fcrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our enterlude before the Duke and Dutchefs, on his wedding-day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and fo grow on to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy and moft cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot, A very good piece of work I affure you, and merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your


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actors by the fcrowl. Mafters fpread your felves. Quin. Anfwer as I call you. Nick Bottom the weaver. ,, Bot. Ready name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover that kills himfelf moft gallantly for love.

Bot. That will ask fome tears in the true performing of it; if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move ftorms; I will condole in fome measure. To the reft yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant; I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in. To make all fplit the raging rocks, and Thivering fhocks fhall break the locks of prifon-gates--and Phibbus carr fhall fhine from far, and make and mar the foolish fates. This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players, This is Ercles vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute the bellows-mender..

Flu. Here Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.

Flu. What is Thisby, a wand'ring Knight?
Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

Flu. Nay faith let not me play a woman, I have a beard coming.

Quin. That's all one, you fhall play it in a mask, and you may fpeak as fmall as you will.

Pet. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too; I'll fpeak in a monftrous little voice, Thifne, Thifne; ah Pyramus my lover dear, thy Thisby dear, and lady dear.

Quin. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and Flute,. you Thisby.

Bot. Well, proceed..

Quin. Robin Starvelin the taylor.

Star. Here Peter Quince.

Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother Tom Snowt the tinker.

Snowt. Here Peter Quince,


Quin. You Pyramus's father; my felf, Thisby's fa ther; Snug the joiner, you the lion's part; I hope there is a play fitted

Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you if it be, give it me, for I am flow of study.

Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring..

Bot. Le me play the Lion too, I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me.. I will roar, that I will make the Duke fay, let him roar again, let him roar again.

Quin. If you fhould do it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchefs and the ladies, that they would fhriek, and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every mother's fon.

Bot. I grant you friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more.difcretion but to hang us, but I will aggravate my voice fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a fweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one fhall fee in a fummer's day; a moft lovely gentlemanlike man therefore you muft needs play Pyramus

Bot. Well, I will undertake it.. What beard were I beft to play it in?

Quin. Why what you will.

Bot. I will difcharge it in either your ffraw-colour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour'd beard, perfect yellow.


Quin. Some of your French-crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd,. But mafters here are your parts, and to intreat you, request you, and defire you to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace-wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light, there we will rehearfe; for if we meet in the city, we fhall be dog'd with company, and our devices know. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, fuch as our play wants. L pray you fail me not


Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearse more abscenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfect, adieu.

Quin. At the Duke's oak we meet.
Bot. Enough, hold or cut bowftrings.


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Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck or Robingoodfellow at another.


OW now fpirit, whither wander you?
Fai. Over hill, over dale,
Through bufh, through briar,
Over park, over pale,
Through flood, through fire,
I do wander every where,
Swifter than the moon's fphere;

And I ferye the Fairy Queen,

'To dew her orbs

upon the green';
The cowflips tall her penfioners be,.
In their gold coats fpots you fee,
Thofe be rubies, Fairy favours:
In thofe freckles live their favours:
I must go feek fome dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear.
Farewel thou lobo pirits, I'll be gone,

Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.

Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to-night,
Take heed the Queen come not within his fight.
For Oberon is paffing fell and wrath,
Becaufe that the, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy ftol'n from an Indian King:
She never had fo fweet a changeling;


And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forefts wild
But The per-force with-holds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flow'rs, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear, or fpangled ftar-light theen,
But they do † fquare, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.

Fai. Or I mistake your fhape and making quite,
Or elfe you are that fhrewd and knavish sprite
Call'd Robin-goodfellow Are you not he,
That fright the maidens of the villagree,
Skim milk, and fometimes labour in the quern,
And bootlefs make the breathlefs hufwife churn ;
And fometime make the drink to bear no barme,
Mit-lead night-wand'rers, laughing at their harm?
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and fweet Puck,
You do their work, and they fhall have good luck.
Are not you he?

Puck. Thou speak'st aright;

I am that merry wand'rer of the night:
I jeft to Oberon, and make him fmile
When I a fat and bean-fed horfe beguile,
Neighing in likenefs of a filly foal:
And fometimes lurk I in a goffip's bowl,,
In very likeness of a roafted † crab,
And when the drinks, against her lips I bob,.
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wifeft aunt, telling the faddeft tale,
Sometime for three-foot ftool mistaketh me;
Then flip I from her bum, dawn topples fhe,
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough,

And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and

ze, and swear

A merrier hour was never wa nere.

But make room, fairy, here comes Oberon..

Fai. And here my miftrefs: would that he were gone.


i. e. quarrel or jar.

† crab apple.

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