more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost six-pence a-day during his life; he could not have 'scaped six-pence a-day: an the duke had not given him six-pence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd; he would have deserv'd it: six-pence aday, 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 preferr'd. 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 Thestus, 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, 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, F Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigur'd so together, More witnesseth than fancy's images, And grows to something of great constancy; But, howsoever, strange, and admirable. Enter Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena. The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love, Accompany your hearts! Lys. More than to us Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed! The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours, What revels are in hand? Is there no play, 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. We'll none of that: that have I told my love, 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, Philost. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long; Which is as brief as I have known a play; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never labour'd in their minds till now: 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, 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. Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue |