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Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in
Another moon. But, O, methinks how slow
This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires
55Like to a stepdame or a dowager
Long withering out a young man’s revenue.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
1010-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.
Go, Philostrate,
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments.
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth.
1515Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
Philostrate exits.
Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword
And won thy love doing thee injuries,
But I will wed thee in another key,
2020With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling.
Happy be Theseus, our renownèd duke!
Thanks, good Egeus. What’s the news with thee?
Full of vexation come I, with complaint
Against my child, my daughter Hermia.—
2525Stand forth, Demetrius.—My noble lord,
This man hath my consent to marry her.—
Stand forth, Lysander.—And, my gracious duke,
This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child.—
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes
3030And interchanged love tokens with my child.
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung
With feigning voice verses of feigning love
And stol’n the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits,
3535Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats—messengers
Of strong prevailment in unhardened youth.
With cunning hast thou filched my daughter’s heart,
Turned her obedience (which is due to me)
To stubborn harshness.—And, my gracious duke,
4040Be it so she will not here before your Grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:
As she is mine, I may dispose of her,
Which shall be either to this gentleman
4545Or to her death, according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.
What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair maid.
To you, your father should be as a god,
One that composed your beauties, yea, and one
5050To whom you are but as a form in wax
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
So is Lysander.
5555In himself he is,
But in this kind, wanting your father’s voice,
The other must be held the worthier.
I would my father looked but with my eyes.
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
6060I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concern my modesty
In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
But I beseech your Grace that I may know
6565The worst that may befall me in this case
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
Either to die the death or to abjure
Forever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
7070Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether (if you yield not to your father’s choice)
You can endure the livery of a nun,
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,
To live a barren sister all your life,
7575Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice-blessèd they that master so their blood
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage,
But earthlier happy is the rose distilled
Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,
8080Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his Lordship whose unwishèd yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
8585Take time to pause, and by the next new moon
(The sealing day betwixt my love and me
For everlasting bond of fellowship),
Upon that day either prepare to die
For disobedience to your father’s will,
9090Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would,
Or on Diana’s altar to protest
For aye austerity and single life.
Relent, sweet Hermia, and, Lysander, yield
Thy crazèd title to my certain right.
9595You have her father’s love, Demetrius.
Let me have Hermia’s. Do you marry him.
Scornful Lysander, true, he hath my love;
And what is mine my love shall render him.
And she is mine, and all my right of her
100100I do estate unto Demetrius.
I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
As well possessed. My love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly ranked
(If not with vantage) as Demetrius’;
105105And (which is more than all these boasts can be)
I am beloved of beauteous Hermia.
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar’s daughter, Helena,
110110And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
I must confess that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
115115But, being overfull of self-affairs,
My mind did lose it.—But, Demetrius, come,
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me.
I have some private schooling for you both.—
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
120120To fit your fancies to your father’s will,
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
(Which by no means we may extenuate)
To death or to a vow of single life.—
Come, my Hippolyta. What cheer, my love?—
125125Demetrius and Egeus, go along.
I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptial and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
With duty and desire we follow you.
130130How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
Ay me! For aught that I could ever read,
135135Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth.
But either it was different in blood—
O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low.
Or else misgraffèd in respect of years—
140140O spite! Too old to be engaged to young.
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—
O hell, to choose love by another’s eyes!
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
145145Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and Earth,
And, ere a man hath power to say “Behold!”
150150The jaws of darkness do devour it up.
So quick bright things come to confusion.
If then true lovers have been ever crossed,
It stands as an edict in destiny.
Then let us teach our trial patience
155155Because it is a customary cross,
As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,
Wishes and tears, poor fancy’s followers.
A good persuasion. Therefore, hear me, Hermia:
I have a widow aunt, a dowager
160160Of great revenue, and she hath no child.
From Athens is her house remote seven leagues,
And she respects me as her only son.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
And to that place the sharp Athenian law
165165Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me, then
Steal forth thy father’s house tomorrow night,
And in the wood a league without the town
(Where I did meet thee once with Helena
To do observance to a morn of May),
170170There will I stay for thee.
My good Lysander,
I swear to thee by Cupid’s strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus’ doves,
175175By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen
When the false Trojan under sail was seen,
By all the vows that ever men have broke
(In number more than ever women spoke),
180180In that same place thou hast appointed me,
Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.
Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
Godspeed, fair Helena. Whither away?
Call you me “fair”? That “fair” again unsay.
185185Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair!
Your eyes are lodestars and your tongue’s sweet air
More tunable than lark to shepherd’s ear
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching. O, were favor so!
190190Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go.
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye;
My tongue should catch your tongue’s sweet
melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
195195The rest I’d give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius’ heart!
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such
200200skill!
I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
O, that my prayers could such affection move!
The more I hate, the more he follows me.
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
205205His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
None but your beauty. Would that fault were mine!
Take comfort: he no more shall see my face.
Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see
210210Seemed Athens as a paradise to me.
O, then, what graces in my love do dwell
That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell!
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold.
Tomorrow night when Phoebe doth behold
215215Her silver visage in the wat’ry glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass
(A time that lovers’ flights doth still conceal),
Through Athens’ gates have we devised to steal.
And in the wood where often you and I
220220Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
There my Lysander and myself shall meet
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes
To seek new friends and stranger companies.
225225Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius.—
Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight
From lovers’ food till morrow deep midnight.
I will, my Hermia.Hermia exits.
230230Helena, adieu.
As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!
How happy some o’er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so.
235235He will not know what all but he do know.
And, as he errs, doting on Hermia’s eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
240240Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind;
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgment taste.
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child
245245Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjured everywhere.
For, ere Demetrius looked on Hermia’s eyne,
He hailed down oaths that he was only mine;
250250And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolved, and show’rs of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia’s flight.
Then to the wood will he tomorrow night
Pursue her. And, for this intelligence
255255If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again.
Is all our company here?
You were best to call them generally, man by
260man, according to the scrip.
Here is the scroll of every man’s name which
5is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our
interlude before the Duke and the Duchess on his
wedding day at night.
265First, good Peter Quince, say what the play
treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so
10grow to a point.
Marry, our play is
A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a
15merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your
actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.
Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.
275Ready. Name what part I am for, and
proceed.
20You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
What is Pyramus—a lover or a tyrant?
A lover that kills himself most gallant for love.
280That will ask some tears in the true performing
of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their
25eyes. I will move storms; I will condole in some
measure. To the rest.—Yet my chief humor is for a
tyrant. I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a
285cat in, to make all split:
The raging rocks
30And shivering shocks
Shall break the locks
Of prison gates.
290And Phibbus’ car
Shall shine from far
35And make and mar
The foolish Fates.
This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players.
295This is Ercles’ vein, a tyrant’s vein. A lover is more
condoling.
40Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Here, Peter Quince.
Flute, you must take Thisbe on you.
300What is Thisbe—a wand’ring knight?
It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
45Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a
beard coming.
That’s all one. You shall play it in a mask, and
305you may speak as small as you will.
An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too.
50I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice: “Thisne,
Thisne!”—“Ah Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy Thisbe
dear and lady dear!”
310No, no, you must play Pyramus—and, Flute,
you Thisbe.
55Well, proceed.
Robin Starveling, the tailor.
Here, Peter Quince.
315Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe’s
mother.—Tom Snout, the tinker.
60Here, Peter Quince.
You, Pyramus’ father.—Myself, Thisbe’s
father.—Snug the joiner, you the lion’s part.—
320And I hope here is a play fitted.
Have you the lion’s part written? Pray you, if it
65be, give it me, for I am slow of study.
You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but
roaring.
325Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will
do any man’s heart good to hear me. I will roar that
70I will make the Duke say “Let him roar again. Let
him roar again!”
An you should do it too terribly, you would
330fright the Duchess and the ladies that they would
shriek, and that were enough to hang us all.
75That would hang us, every mother’s son.
I grant you, friends, if you should fright the
ladies out of their wits, they would have no more
335discretion but to hang us. But I will aggravate my
voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking
80dove. I will roar you an ’twere any nightingale.
You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus
is a sweet-faced man, a proper man as one
340shall see in a summer’s day, a most lovely gentlemanlike
man. Therefore you must needs play
85Pyramus.
Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I
best to play it in?
345Why, what you will.
I will discharge it in either your straw-color
90beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain
beard, or your French-crown-color beard,
your perfit yellow.
350Some of your French crowns have no hair at
all, and then you will play barefaced. But, masters,
95here are your parts, giving out the parts, and I am
to entreat you, request you, and desire you to con
them by tomorrow night and meet me in the palace
355wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight. There
will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall
100be dogged with company and our devices known. In
the meantime I will draw a bill of properties such as
our play wants. I pray you fail me not.
360We will meet, and there we may rehearse
most obscenely and courageously. Take pains. Be
105perfit. Adieu.
At the Duke’s Oak we meet.
Enough. Hold or cut bowstrings.
They exit.
365How now, spirit? Whither wander you?
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
5Thorough flood, thorough fire;
370I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere.
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
10The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
375In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors;
In those freckles live their savors.
I must go seek some dewdrops here
15And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
380Farewell, thou lob of spirits. I’ll be gone.
Our queen and all her elves come here anon.
The King doth keep his revels here tonight.
Take heed the Queen come not within his sight,
20For Oberon is passing fell and wrath
385Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy stolen from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling.
And jealous Oberon would have the child
25Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild.
390But she perforce withholds the lovèd boy,
Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her
joy.
And now they never meet in grove or green,
30By fountain clear or spangled starlight sheen,
395But they do square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups and hide them there.
Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
35Called Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he
400That frights the maidens of the villagery,
Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern
And bootless make the breathless huswife churn,
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
40Mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm?
405Those that “Hobgoblin” call you and “sweet Puck,”
You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
Are not you he?
Thou speakest aright.
45I am that merry wanderer of the night.
410I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal.
And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl
50In very likeness of a roasted crab,
415And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
55Then slip I from her bum, down topples she
420And “Tailor!” cries and falls into a cough,
And then the whole choir hold their hips and loffe
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
60But room, fairy. Here comes Oberon.
425And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence.
I have forsworn his bed and company.
65Tarry, rash wanton. Am not I thy lord?
430Then I must be thy lady. But I know
When thou hast stolen away from Fairyland
And in the shape of Corin sat all day
Playing on pipes of corn and versing love
70To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
435Come from the farthest steep of India,
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskined mistress and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
75To give their bed joy and prosperity?
440How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering
80night
445From Perigouna, whom he ravishèd,
And make him with fair Aegles break his faith,
With Ariadne and Antiopa?
These are the forgeries of jealousy;
85And never, since the middle summer’s spring,
450Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By pavèd fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beachèd margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
90But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
455Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge have sucked up from the sea
Contagious fogs, which, falling in the land,
Hath every pelting river made so proud
95That they have overborne their continents.
460The ox hath therefore stretched his yoke in vain,
The plowman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard.
The fold stands empty in the drownèd field,
100And crows are fatted with the murrain flock.
465The nine-men’s-morris is filled up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undistinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter here.
105No night is now with hymn or carol blessed.
470Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound.
And thorough this distemperature we see
110The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
475Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
115The childing autumn, angry winter, change
480Their wonted liveries, and the mazèd world
By their increase now knows not which is which.
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
120We are their parents and original.
485Do you amend it, then. It lies in you.
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy
To be my henchman.
125Set your heart at rest:
490The Fairyland buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot’ress of my order,
And in the spicèd Indian air by night
Full often hath she gossiped by my side
130And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands,
495Marking th’ embarkèd traders on the flood,
When we have laughed to see the sails conceive
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait,
135Following (her womb then rich with my young
500squire),
Would imitate and sail upon the land
To fetch me trifles and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
140But she, being mortal, of that boy did die,
505And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him.
How long within this wood intend you stay?
Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding day.
145If you will patiently dance in our round
510And see our moonlight revels, go with us.
If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away.
150We shall chide downright if I longer stay.
515Well, go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury.—
My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb’rest
Since once I sat upon a promontory
155And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back
520Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid’s music.
160I remember.
525That very time I saw (but thou couldst not),
Flying between the cold moon and the Earth,
Cupid all armed. A certain aim he took
At a fair vestal thronèd by the west,
165And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow
530As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts.
But I might see young Cupid’s fiery shaft
Quenched in the chaste beams of the wat’ry moon,
And the imperial vot’ress passèd on
170In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
535Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before, milk-white, now purple with love’s wound,
And maidens call it “love-in-idleness.”
175Fetch me that flower; the herb I showed thee once.
540The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again
180Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
545I’ll put a girdle round about the Earth
In forty minutes.
Having once this juice,
I’ll watch Titania when she is asleep
185And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.
550The next thing then she, waking, looks upon
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape)
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
190And ere I take this charm from off her sight
555(As I can take it with another herb),
I’ll make her render up her page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible,
And I will overhear their conference.
195I love thee not; therefore pursue me not.
560Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
The one I’ll stay; the other stayeth me.
Thou told’st me they were stol’n unto this wood,
And here am I, and wood within this wood
200Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
565Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant!
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw,
205And I shall have no power to follow you.
570Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
Or rather do I not in plainest truth
Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you?
And even for that do I love you the more.
210I am your spaniel, and, Demetrius,
575The more you beat me I will fawn on you.
Use me but as your spaniel: spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave
(Unworthy as I am) to follow you.
215What worser place can I beg in your love
580(And yet a place of high respect with me)
Than to be usèd as you use your dog?
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit,
For I am sick when I do look on thee.
220And I am sick when I look not on you.
585You do impeach your modesty too much
To leave the city and commit yourself
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To trust the opportunity of night
225And the ill counsel of a desert place
590With the rich worth of your virginity.
Your virtue is my privilege. For that
It is not night when I do see your face,
Therefore I think I am not in the night.
230Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
595For you, in my respect, are all the world.
Then, how can it be said I am alone
When all the world is here to look on me?
I’ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes
235And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
600The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
Run when you will. The story shall be changed:
Apollo flies and Daphne holds the chase;
The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
240Makes speed to catch the tiger. Bootless speed
605When cowardice pursues and valor flies!
I will not stay thy questions. Let me go,
Or if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
245Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
610You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex.
We cannot fight for love as men may do.
We should be wooed and were not made to woo.
Demetrius exits.
250I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell
615To die upon the hand I love so well.
Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
Enter Robin.
Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.
255Ay, there it is.
620I pray thee give it me.
Robin gives him the flower.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite overcanopied with luscious woodbine,
260With sweet muskroses, and with eglantine.
625There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight.
And there the snake throws her enameled skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
265And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes
630And make her full of hateful fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove.
He gives Robin part of the flower.
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes,
270But do it when the next thing he espies
635May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care, that he may prove
More fond on her than she upon her love.
275And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
640Fear not, my lord. Your servant shall do so.
Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence—
Some to kill cankers in the muskrose buds,
Some war with reremice for their leathern wings
5645To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep.
Then to your offices and let me rest.
You spotted snakes with double tongue,
10650Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen.
Newts and blindworms, do no wrong,
Come not near our Fairy Queen.
Philomel, with melody
Sing in our sweet lullaby.
15655Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby.
Never harm
Nor spell nor charm
Come our lovely lady nigh.
So good night, with lullaby.
20660Weaving spiders, come not here.
Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence.
Beetles black, approach not near.
Worm nor snail, do no offence.
Philomel, with melody
25665Sing in our sweet lullaby.
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby.
Never harm
Nor spell nor charm
Come our lovely lady nigh.
30670So good night, with lullaby.
Hence, away! Now all is well.
One aloof stand sentinel.
What thou seest when thou dost wake
Do it for thy true love take.
35675Love and languish for his sake.
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
When thou wak’st, it is thy dear.
40680Wake when some vile thing is near.
Fair love, you faint with wand’ring in the wood.
And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way.
We’ll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
45685Be it so, Lysander. Find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.
One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.
Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear,
50690Lie further off yet. Do not lie so near.
O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
Love takes the meaning in love’s conference.
I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,
So that but one heart we can make of it;
55695Two bosoms interchainèd with an oath—
So then two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny,
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
Lysander riddles very prettily.
60700Now much beshrew my manners and my pride
If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy,
Lie further off in human modesty.
Such separation, as may well be said,
65705Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid.
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend.
Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!
“Amen, amen” to that fair prayer, say I,
And then end life when I end loyalty!
70710Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest!
With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed!
Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none
On whose eyes I might approve
75715This flower’s force in stirring love.
He sees Lysander.
Night and silence! Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear.
This is he my master said
Despisèd the Athenian maid.
80720And here the maiden, sleeping sound
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul, she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.—
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
85725All the power this charm doth owe.
He anoints Lysander’s eyelids
with the nectar.
When thou wak’st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.
So, awake when I am gone,
For I must now to Oberon.
90730Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.
Stay, on thy peril. I alone will go.
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase.
95735The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe’er she lies,
For she hath blessèd and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears.
If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers.
100740No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,
For beasts that meet me run away for fear.
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do as a monster fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
105745Made me compare with Hermia’s sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander, on the ground!
Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.—
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.
And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
110750Transparent Helena! Nature shows art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name to perish on my sword!
Do not say so. Lysander, say not so.
115755What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what
though?
Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.
Content with Hermia? No, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
120760Not Hermia, but Helena I love.
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason swayed,
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season;
125765So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will
And leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook
Love’s stories written in love’s richest book.
130770Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is ’t not enough, is ’t not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius’ eye,
135775But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well. Perforce I must confess
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
140780O, that a lady of one man refused
Should of another therefore be abused!
She sees not Hermia.—Hermia, sleep thou there,
And never mayst thou come Lysander near.
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
145785The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive,
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
Of all be hated, but the most of me!
150790And, all my powers, address your love and might
To honor Helen and to be her knight.
Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast.
Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!
155795Lysander, look how I do quake with fear.
Methought a serpent ate my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.
Lysander! What, removed? Lysander, lord!
What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word?
160800Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear.
Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.—
No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh.
Either death or you I’ll find immediately.
Are we all met?
805Pat, pat. And here’s a marvels convenient
place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be
our stage, this hawthorn brake our tiring-house,
5and we will do it in action as we will do it before
the Duke.
810Peter Quince?
What sayest thou, bully Bottom?
There are things in this comedy of Pyramus
10and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus
must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies
815cannot abide. How answer you that?
By ’r lakin, a parlous fear.
I believe we must leave the killing out,
15when all is done.
Not a whit! I have a device to make all well.
820Write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to
say we will do no harm with our swords and that
Pyramus is not killed indeed. And, for the more
20better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not
Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver. This will put them
825out of fear.
Well, we will have such a prologue, and it shall
be written in eight and six.
25No, make it two more. Let it be written in
eight and eight.
830Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
I fear it, I promise you.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourself,
30to bring in (God shield us!) a lion among ladies is a
most dreadful thing. For there is not a more fearful
835wildfowl than your lion living, and we ought to look
to ’t.
Therefore another prologue must tell he is not
35a lion.
Nay, you must name his name, and half his
840face must be seen through the lion’s neck, and he
himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the
same defect: “Ladies,” or “Fair ladies, I would
40wish you,” or “I would request you,” or “I would
entreat you not to fear, not to tremble! My life for
845yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were
pity of my life. No, I am no such thing. I am a man as
other men are.” And there indeed let him name his
45name and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.
Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard
850things: that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber,
for you know Pyramus and Thisbe meet by
moonlight.
50Doth the moon shine that night we play our
play?
855A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanac.
Find out moonshine, find out moonshine.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
55Why, then, may you leave a casement of the
great chamber window, where we play, open, and
860the moon may shine in at the casement.
Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of
thorns and a lantern and say he comes to disfigure
60or to present the person of Moonshine. Then there
is another thing: we must have a wall in the great
865chamber, for Pyramus and Thisbe, says the story,
did talk through the chink of a wall.
You can never bring in a wall. What say you,
65Bottom?
Some man or other must present Wall. And
870let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some
roughcast about him to signify wall, or let him
hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall
70Pyramus and Thisbe whisper.
If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down,
875every mother’s son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus,
you begin. When you have spoken your
speech, enter into that brake, and so everyone
75according to his cue.
What hempen homespuns have we swagg’ring here
880So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?
What, a play toward? I’ll be an auditor—
An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
80Speak, Pyramus.—Thisbe, stand forth.
Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet—
885Odors, odors!
…odors savors sweet.
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear.—
85But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,
And by and by I will to thee appear.
890A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here.
Must I speak now?
Ay, marry, must you, for you must understand
90he goes but to see a noise that he heard and is to
come again.
895Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,
95As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
I’ll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny’s tomb.
900“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,
100enter. Your cue is past. It is “never tire.”
O!
905As Thisbe. As true as truest horse, that yet would never
tire.
If I were fair, fair Thisbe, I were only thine.
105O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray,
masters, fly, masters! Help!
910I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake,
through brier.
110Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire,
915And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
Why do they run away? This is a knavery of
115them to make me afeard.
O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on
920thee?
What do you see? You see an ass-head of your
own, do you?
120Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art
translated!
925I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of
me, to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir
from this place, do what they can. I will walk up
125and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear
I am not afraid.
He sings.930The ouzel cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
130The wren with little quill—
What angel wakes me from my flow’ry bed?
935The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plainsong cuckoo gray,
Whose note full many a man doth mark
135And dares not answer “nay”—
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a
940bird? Who would give a bird the lie though he cry
“cuckoo” never so?
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again.
140Mine ear is much enamored of thy note,
So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape,
945And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
Methinks, mistress, you should have little
145reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason
and love keep little company together nowadays.
950The more the pity that some honest neighbors will
not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon
occasion.
150Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Not so neither; but if I had wit enough to get
955out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own
turn.
Out of this wood do not desire to go.
155Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate.
960The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee. Therefore go with me.
I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
160And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep
And sing while thou on pressèd flowers dost sleep.
965And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.—
Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Mote, and Mustardseed!
165Ready.
And I.
970And I.
And I.
Where shall we go?
170Be kind and courteous to this gentleman.
Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
975Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
175And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
And light them at the fiery glowworms’ eyes
980To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
180Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
Hail, mortal!
985Hail!
Hail!
Hail!
185I cry your Worships mercy, heartily.—I beseech
your Worship’s name.
990Cobweb.
I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good
Master Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make
190bold with you.—Your name, honest gentleman?
Peaseblossom.
995I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash,
your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father.
Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of
195more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech
you, sir?
1000Mustardseed.
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience
well. That same cowardly, giantlike ox-beef
200hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I
promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes
1005water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance,
good Master Mustardseed.
Come, wait upon him. Lead him to my bower.
205The moon, methinks, looks with a wat’ry eye,
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
1010Lamenting some enforcèd chastity.
Tie up my lover’s tongue. Bring him silently.
I wonder if Titania be awaked;
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.
Enter Robin Goodfellow.
1015Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit?
5What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
1020A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
10That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
1025Who Pyramus presented in their sport,
15Forsook his scene and entered in a brake.
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass’s noll I fixèd on his head.
Anon his Thisbe must be answerèd,
1030And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
20As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun’s report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
1035So at his sight away his fellows fly,
25And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls.
He “Murder” cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus
strong,
1040Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
30For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch,
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things
catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear
1045And left sweet Pyramus translated there.
35When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.
This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latched the Athenian’s eyes
1050With the love juice, as I did bid thee do?
40I took him sleeping—that is finished, too—
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.
Stand close. This is the same Athenian.
1055This is the woman, but not this the man.
45O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe!
Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse,
For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
1060If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
50Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me. Would he have stolen away
1065From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon
55This whole Earth may be bored, and that the moon
May through the center creep and so displease
Her brother’s noontide with th’ Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murdered him.
1070So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.
60So should the murdered look, and so should I,
Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty.
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
1075What’s this to my Lysander? Where is he?
65Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv’st me past the bounds
Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
1080Henceforth be never numbered among men.
70O, once tell true! Tell true, even for my sake!
Durst thou have looked upon him, being awake?
And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
1085An adder did it, for with doubler tongue
75Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
You spend your passion on a misprised mood.
I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood,
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
1090I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
80An if I could, what should I get therefor?
A privilege never to see me more.
And from thy hated presence part I so.
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
1095There is no following her in this fierce vein.
85Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow
For debt that bankrout sleep doth sorrow owe,
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
1100If for his tender here I make some stay.
90What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite
And laid the love juice on some true-love’s sight.
Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
Some true-love turned, and not a false turned true.
1105Then fate o’errules, that, one man holding troth,
95A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens look thou find.
All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer
1110With sighs of love that costs the fresh blood dear.
100By some illusion see thou bring her here.
I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.
I go, I go, look how I go,
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.
1115Flower of this purple dye,
105Hit with Cupid’s archery,
Sink in apple of his eye.
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
1120As the Venus of the sky.—
110When thou wak’st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.
Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand,
1125And the youth, mistook by me,
115Pleading for a lover’s fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Stand aside. The noise they make
1130Will cause Demetrius to awake.
120Then will two at once woo one.
That must needs be sport alone.
And those things do best please me
That befall prepost’rously.
1135Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
125Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
1140Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true?
130You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray!
These vows are Hermia’s. Will you give her o’er?
Weigh oath with oath and you will nothing
1145weigh.
135Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
1150Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
140O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
1155That pure congealèd white, high Taurus’ snow,
145Fanned with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
When thou hold’st up thy hand. O, let me kiss
This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
1160To set against me for your merriment.
150If you were civil and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join in souls to mock me too?
1165If you were men, as men you are in show,
155You would not use a gentle lady so,
To vow and swear and superpraise my parts,
When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.
You both are rivals and love Hermia,
1170And now both rivals to mock Helena.
160A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes
With your derision! None of noble sort
Would so offend a virgin and extort
1175A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.
165You are unkind, Demetrius. Be not so,
For you love Hermia; this you know I know.
And here with all goodwill, with all my heart,
In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part.
1180And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
170Whom I do love and will do till my death.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia. I will none.
If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone.
1185My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourned,
175And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.
Helen, it is not so.
Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
1190Lest to thy peril thou aby it dear.
180Look where thy love comes. Yonder is thy dear.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
1195It pays the hearing double recompense.
185Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Why should he stay whom love doth press to go?
1200What love could press Lysander from my side?
190Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek’st thou me? Could not this make thee
1205know
195The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?
You speak not as you think. It cannot be.
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoined all three
1210To fashion this false sport in spite of me.—
200Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspired, have you with these contrived,
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
1215The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent
205When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us—O, is all forgot?
All schooldays’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
1220Have with our needles created both one flower,
210Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grew together
1225Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
215But yet an union in partition,
Two lovely berries molded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
1230Due but to one, and crownèd with one crest.
220And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly; ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
1235Though I alone do feel the injury.
225I am amazèd at your words.
I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me.
Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me and praise my eyes and face,
1240And made your other love, Demetrius,
230Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander
1245Deny your love (so rich within his soul)
235And tender me, forsooth, affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
1250But miserable most, to love unloved?
240This you should pity rather than despise.
I understand not what you mean by this.
Ay, do. Persever, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
1255Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up.
245This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument.
But fare you well. ’Tis partly my own fault,
1260Which death or absence soon shall remedy.
250Stay, gentle Helena. Hear my excuse,
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena.
O excellent!
Sweet, do not scorn her so.
1265If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
255Thou canst compel no more than she entreat.
Thy threats have no more strength than her weak
prayers.—
Helen, I love thee. By my life, I do.
1270I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
260To prove him false that says I love thee not.
I say I love thee more than he can do.
If thou say so, withdraw and prove it too.
Quick, come.
1275Lysander, whereto tends all this?
She takes hold of Lysander.
265Away, you Ethiop!
No, no. He’ll
Seem to break loose. To Lysander. Take on as you
would follow,
1280But yet come not. You are a tame man, go!
270Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
Why are you grown so rude? What change is this,
Sweet love?
1285Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out!
275Out, loathèd med’cine! O, hated potion, hence!
Do you not jest?
Yes, sooth, and so do you.
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
1290I would I had your bond. For I perceive
280A weak bond holds you. I’ll not trust your word.
What? Should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so.
What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
1295Hate me? Wherefore? O me, what news, my love?
285Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
Since night you loved me; yet since night you left
me.
1300Why, then, you left me—O, the gods forbid!—
290In earnest, shall I say?
Ay, by my life,
And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt.
1305Be certain, nothing truer, ’tis no jest
295That I do hate thee and love Helena.
O me! To Helena. You juggler, you cankerblossom,
You thief of love! What, have you come by night
And stol’n my love’s heart from him?
1310Fine, i’ faith.
300Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you!
1315“Puppet”? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game.
305Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urged her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed with him.
1320And are you grown so high in his esteem
310Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak!
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
1325I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
315Let her not hurt me. I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness.
I am a right maid for my cowardice.
Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
1330Because she is something lower than myself,
320That I can match her.
“Lower”? Hark, again!
Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
I evermore did love you, Hermia,
1335Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you—
325Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He followed you; for love, I followed him.
But he hath chid me hence and threatened me
1340To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too.
330And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back
And follow you no further. Let me go.
You see how simple and how fond I am.
1345Why, get you gone. Who is ’t that hinders you?
335A foolish heart that I leave here behind.
What, with Lysander?
With Demetrius.
Be not afraid. She shall not harm thee, Helena.
1350No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
340O, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd.
She was a vixen when she went to school,
And though she be but little, she is fierce.
“Little” again? Nothing but “low” and “little”?
1355Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
345Let me come to her.
Get you gone, you dwarf,
You minimus of hind’ring knotgrass made,
You bead, you acorn—
1360You are too officious
350In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone. Speak not of Helena.
Take not her part. For if thou dost intend
Never so little show of love to her,
1365Thou shalt aby it.
355Now she holds me not.
Now follow, if thou dar’st, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
“Follow”? Nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl.
1370You, mistress, all this coil is long of you.
Helena retreats.
360Nay, go not back.
I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray.
1375My legs are longer though, to run away.
365I am amazed and know not what to say.
This is thy negligence. Still thou mistak’st,
Or else committ’st thy knaveries willfully.
Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
1380Did not you tell me I should know the man
370By the Athenian garments he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprise
That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes;
And so far am I glad it so did sort,
1385As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
375Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight.
Hie, therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog as black as Acheron,
1390And lead these testy rivals so astray
380As one come not within another’s way.
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue;
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong.
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius.
1395And from each other look thou lead them thus,
385Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.
Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye,
He gives a flower to Robin.
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
1400To take from thence all error with his might
390And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision.
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
1405With league whose date till death shall never end.
395Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charmèd eye release
From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.
1410My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
400For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger,
At whose approach, ghosts wand’ring here and
there
1415Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all,
405That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They willfully themselves exile from light
1420And must for aye consort with black-browed night.
410But we are spirits of another sort.
I with the Morning’s love have oft made sport
And, like a forester, the groves may tread
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red,
1425Opening on Neptune with fair blessèd beams,
415Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.
But notwithstanding, haste! Make no delay.
We may effect this business yet ere day.
Up and down, up and down,
1430I will lead them up and down.
420I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
Here comes one.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.
1435Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?
425I will be with thee straight.
Follow me, then, to
plainer ground.
Lysander, speak again.
1440Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
430Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy
head?
Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars,
1445And wilt not come? Come, recreant! Come, thou
435child!
I’ll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled
That draws a sword on thee.
Yea, art thou there?
1450Follow my voice. We’ll try no manhood here.
440He goes before me and still dares me on.
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter-heeled than I.
I followed fast, but faster he did fly,
1455That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
445And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day,
For if but once thou show me thy gray light,
I’ll find Demetrius and revenge this spite.
Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com’st thou not?
1460Abide me, if thou dar’st, for well I wot
450Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place,
And dar’st not stand nor look me in the face.
Where art thou now?
Come hither. I am here.
1465Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this
455dear
If ever I thy face by daylight see.
Now go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.
1470By day’s approach look to be visited.
460O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours! Shine, comforts, from the east,
That I may back to Athens by daylight
From these that my poor company detest.
1475And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,
465Steal me awhile from mine own company.
Yet but three? Come one more.
Two of both kinds makes up four.
Here she comes, curst and sad.
1480Cupid is a knavish lad
470Thus to make poor females mad.
Never so weary, never so in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers,
I can no further crawl, no further go.
1485My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
475Here will I rest me till the break of day.
Heavens shield Lysander if they mean a fray!
On the ground
Sleep sound.
1490I’ll apply
480To your eye,
Gentle lover, remedy.
Robin applies the nectar
to Lysander’s eyes.
When thou wak’st,
Thou tak’st
1495True delight
485In the sight
Of thy former lady’s eye.
And the country proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
1500In your waking shall be shown.
490Jack shall have Jill;
Naught shall go ill;
The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be
well.
1505Come, sit thee down upon this flow’ry bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
5Where’s Peaseblossom?
1510Ready.
Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s
Monsieur Cobweb?
Ready.
10Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you
1515your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped
humble-bee on the top of a thistle, and, good
monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret
yourself too much in the action, monsieur, and,
15good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break
1520not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a
honey-bag, signior. Cobweb exits. Where’s Monsieur
Mustardseed?
Ready.
20Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed.
1525Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.
What’s your will?
Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery
Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s,
25monsieur, for methinks I am marvels hairy about
1530the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair do
but tickle me, I must scratch.
What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s
30have the tongs and the bones.
1535Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch
your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire
to a bottle of hay. Good hay, sweet hay, hath no
35fellow.
1540I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
The squirrel’s hoard and fetch thee new nuts.
I had rather have a handful or two of dried
peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir
40me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
1545Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.—
Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.
Fairies exit.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist; the female ivy so
45Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
1550O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!
Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity.
For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
50Seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool,
1555I did upbraid 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 sometime on the buds
55Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
1560Stood now within the pretty flouriets’ eyes,
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in mild terms begged my patience,
60I then did ask of her her changeling child,
1565Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in Fairyland.
And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
65And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp
1570From off the head of this Athenian swain,
That he, awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair
And think no more of this night’s accidents
70But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
1575But first I will release the Fairy Queen.
He applies the nectar to her eyes.
Be as thou wast wont to be.
See as thou wast wont to see.
Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower
75Hath such force and blessèd power.
1580Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.
My Oberon, what visions have I seen!
Methought I was enamored of an ass.
There lies your love.
80How came these things to pass?
1585O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
Silence awhile.—Robin, take off this head.—
Titania, music call; and strike more dead
Than common sleep of all these five the sense.
85Music, ho, music such as charmeth sleep!
1590Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes
peep.
Sound music.Music.
Come, my queen, take hands with me,
90And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Titania and Oberon dance.
1595Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will tomorrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity.
95There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
1600Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
Fairy king, attend and mark.
I do hear the morning lark.
Then, my queen, in silence sad
100Trip we after night’s shade.
1605We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wand’ring moon.
Come, my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night
105That I sleeping here was found
1610With these mortals on the ground.
Go, one of you, find out the Forester.
For now our observation is performed,
And, since we have the vaward of the day,
110My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
1615Uncouple in the western valley; let them go.
Dispatch, I say, and find the Forester.
A Servant exits.
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top
And mark the musical confusion
115Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
1620I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear
With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear
Such gallant chiding, for, besides the groves,
120The skies, the fountains, every region near
1625Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung
125With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
1630Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tunable
Was never holloed to, nor cheered with horn,
130In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.
1635Judge when you hear.—But soft! What nymphs are
these?
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this Lysander; this Demetrius is,
135This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena.
1640I wonder of their being here together.
No doubt they rose up early to observe
The rite of May, and hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.
140But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day
1645That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
It is, my lord.
Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past.
145Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?
1650Pardon, my lord.
I pray you all, stand up.
They rise.
I know you two are rival enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
150That hatred is so far from jealousy
1655To sleep by hate and fear no enmity?
My lord, I shall reply amazèdly,
Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I came here.
155But, as I think—for truly would I speak,
1660And now I do bethink me, so it is:
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
Without the peril of the Athenian law—
160Enough, enough!—My lord, you have enough.
1665I beg the law, the law upon his head.
They would have stol’n away.—They would,
Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me:
165You of your wife and me of my consent,
1670Of my consent that she should be your wife.
My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood,
And I in fury hither followed them,
170Fair Helena in fancy following me.
1675But, my good lord, I wot not by what power
(But by some power it is) my love to Hermia,
Melted as the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaud
175Which in my childhood I did dote upon,
1680And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia.
180But like a sickness did I loathe this food.
1685But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
And will forevermore be true to it.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met.
185Of this discourse we more will hear anon.—
1690Egeus, I will overbear your will,
For in the temple by and by, with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit.—
And, for the morning now is something worn,
190Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
1695Away with us to Athens. Three and three,
We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.
Come, Hippolyta.
These things seem small and undistinguishable,
195Like far-off mountains turnèd into clouds.
1700Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When everything seems double.
So methinks.
And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
200Mine own and not mine own.
1705Are you sure
That we are awake? It seems to me
That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think
The Duke was here and bid us follow him?
205Yea, and my father.
1710And Hippolyta.
And he did bid us follow to the temple.
Why, then, we are awake. Let’s follow him,
And by the way let us recount our dreams.
210 When my cue comes, call me,
1715and 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
215vision. I have had a dream past the wit of man to say
1720what 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
220he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of
1725man 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
225dream. It shall be called because
1730it 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.
Have you sent to Bottom’s house? Is he come
1735home yet?
He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he
is transported.
5If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes
not forward, doth it?
1740It is not possible. You have not a man in all
Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.
No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraftman
10in Athens.
Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very
1745paramour for a sweet voice.
You must say “paragon.” A “paramour” is (God
bless us) a thing of naught.
15Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple,
and there is two or three lords and ladies more
1750married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all
been made men.
O, sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence
20a day during his life. He could not have
’scaped sixpence a day. An the Duke had not given
1755him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be
hanged. He would have deserved it. Sixpence a day
in Pyramus, or nothing!
25Where are these lads? Where are these
hearts?
1760Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy
hour!
Masters, I am to discourse wonders. But ask
30me not what; for, if I tell you, I am not true
Athenian. I will tell you everything right as it fell
1765out.
Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is that
35the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together,
good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your
1770pumps. 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 Thisbe have clean
40linen, and let not him that plays the lion pare his
nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws.
1775And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for
we are to utter sweet breath, and I do not doubt but
to hear them say it is a sweet comedy. No more
45words. Away! Go, away!
’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
1780More strange than true. I never may believe
These antique fables nor these fairy toys.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
5Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
1785The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact.
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold:
10That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt.
1790The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to
heaven,
15And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
1795Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Such tricks hath strong imagination
20That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy.
1800Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
But all the story of the night told over,
25And all their minds transfigured so together,
More witnesseth than fancy’s images
1805And grows to something of great constancy,
But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
Here come the lovers full of joy and mirth.—
30Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love
Accompany your hearts!
1810More than to us
Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
Come now, what masques, what dances shall we
35have
To wear away this long age of three hours
1815Between our after-supper and bedtime?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play
40To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philostrate.
1820Here, mighty Theseus.
Say what abridgment have you for this evening,
What masque, what music? How shall we beguile
45The lazy time if not with some delight?
There is a brief how many sports are ripe.
1825Make choice of which your Highness will see first.
50We’ll none of that. That have I told my love
In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
1830
That is an old device, and it was played
55When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
That is some satire, keen and critical,
Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
60
1840“Merry” and “tragical”? “Tedious” and “brief”?
That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow!
How shall we find the concord of this discord?
65A play there is, my lord, some ten words long
(Which is as brief as I have known a play),
1845But 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.
70And tragical, my noble lord, it is.
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself,
1850Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
75What are they that do play it?
Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,
1855Which never labored in their minds till now,
And now have toiled their unbreathed memories
With this same play, against your nuptial.
80And we will hear it.
No, my noble lord,
1860It 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,
85Extremely stretched and conned with cruel pain
To do you service.
1865I will hear that play,
For never anything can be amiss
When simpleness and duty tender it.
90Go, bring them in—and take your places, ladies.
I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged,
1870And duty in his service perishing.
Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
He says they can do nothing in this kind.
95The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake;
1875And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposèd
100To greet me with premeditated welcomes,
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
1880Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,
And in conclusion dumbly have broke off,
105Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,
1885And in the modesty of fearful duty,
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
110Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most, to my capacity.
Enter Philostrate.
1890So please your Grace, the Prologue is addressed.
Let him approach.
Enter the Prologue.
If we offend, it is with our goodwill.
115That you should think we come not to offend,
But with goodwill. To show our simple skill,
1895That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider, then, we come but in despite.
We do not come, as minding to content you,
120Our true intent is. All for your delight
We are not here. That you should here repent
1900you,
The actors are at hand, and, by their show,
You shall know all that you are like to know.
125This fellow doth not stand upon points.
He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt;
1905he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is
not enough to speak, but to speak true.
Indeed he hath played on this prologue like
130a child on a recorder—a sound, but not in
government.
1910His speech was like a tangled chain—nothing
impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show.
135But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know.
1915This beauteous lady Thisbe is certain.
This man with lime and roughcast doth present
“Wall,” that vile wall which did these lovers
140sunder;
And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are
1920content
To whisper, at the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,
145Presenteth “Moonshine,” for, if you will know,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
1925To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.
This grisly beast (which “Lion” hight by name)
The trusty Thisbe coming first by night
150Did scare away or rather did affright;
And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,
1930Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
And finds his trusty Thisbe’s mantle slain.
155Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast.
1935And Thisbe, tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain
160At large discourse, while here they do remain.
I wonder if the lion be to speak.
1940No wonder, my lord. One lion may when
many asses do.
In this same interlude it doth befall
165That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall as I would have you think
1945That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe,
Did whisper often, very secretly.
170This loam, this roughcast, and this stone doth show
That I am that same wall. The truth is so.
1950And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
Would you desire lime and hair to speak
175better?
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard
1955discourse, my lord.
Pyramus draws near the wall. Silence.
O grim-looked night! O night with hue so black!
180O night, which ever art when day is not!
O night! O night! Alack, alack, alack!
1960I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot.
And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
That stand’st between her father’s ground and
185mine,
Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
1965Show me thy chink to blink through with mine
eyne.
Thanks, courteous wall. Jove shield thee well for
190this.
But what see I? No Thisbe do I see.
1970O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss,
Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
The wall, methinks, being sensible, should
195curse again.
No, in truth, sir, he should not. “Deceiving
1975me” is Thisbe’s cue. She is to enter now, and I am
to spy her through the wall. You shall see it will fall
pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.
200O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
1980My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
I see a voice! Now will I to the chink
205To spy an I can hear my Thisbe’s face.
Thisbe?
1985My love! Thou art my love, I think.
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace,
And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
210And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
1990As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.
I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
215Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.
1995Thus have I, Wall, my part dischargèd so,
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
Now is the wall down between the two
220neighbors.
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so
2000willful to hear without warning.
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The best in this kind are but shadows, and
225the worst are no worse, if imagination amend
them.
2005It must be your imagination, then, and not
theirs.
If we imagine no worse of them than they of
230themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here
come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.
2010You ladies, you whose gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on
floor,
235May now perchance both quake and tremble here,
When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
2015Then know that I, as Snug the joiner, am
A lion fell, nor else no lion’s dam;
For if I should as lion come in strife
240Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.
A very gentle beast, and of a good
2020conscience.
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I
saw.
245This lion is a very fox for his valor.
True, and a goose for his discretion.
2025Not so, my lord, for his valor cannot carry
his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.
His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his
250valor, for the goose carries not the fox. It is well.
Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the
2030Moon.
This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present.
He should have worn the horns on his
255head.
He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible
2035within the circumference.
This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present.
Myself the man i’ th’ moon do seem to be.
260This is the greatest error of all the rest; the
man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else
2040“the man i’ th’ moon”?
He dares not come there for the candle,
for you see, it is already in snuff.
265I am aweary of this moon. Would he would
change.
2045It appears by his small light of discretion that
he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason,
we must stay the time.
270Proceed, Moon.
All that I have to say is to tell
2050you that the lanthorn is the moon, I the man i’ th’
moon, this thornbush my thornbush, and this dog
my dog.
275Why, all these should be in the lanthorn,
for all these are in the moon. But silence. Here
2055comes Thisbe.
This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
O!
The Lion roars. Thisbe runs off,280Well roared, Lion.
Well run, Thisbe.
2060Well shone, Moon. Truly, the Moon shines
with a good grace.
Well moused, Lion.
Enter Pyramus (Bottom).285And then came Pyramus.
Lion exits.And so the lion vanished.
2065Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams.
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright,
For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,
290I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.—
But stay! O spite!
2070But mark, poor knight,
What dreadful dole is here!
Eyes, do you see!
295How can it be!
O dainty duck! O dear!
2075Thy mantle good—
What, stained with blood?
Approach, ye Furies fell!
300O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum,
2080Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
This passion, and the death of a dear friend,
would go near to make a man look sad.
305Beshrew my heart but I pity the man.
O, wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame,
2085Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear,
Which is—no, no—which was the fairest dame
That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with
310cheer?
Come, tears, confound!
2090Out, sword, and wound
The pap of Pyramus;
Ay, that left pap,
315Where heart doth hop.Pyramus stabs himself.
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
2095Now am I dead;
Now am I fled;
My soul is in the sky.
320Tongue, lose thy light!
Moon, take thy flight!Moonshine exits.
2100Now die, die, die, die, die.Pyramus falls.
No die, but an ace for him, for he is but
one.
325Less than an ace, man, for he is dead, he is
nothing.
2105With the help of a surgeon he might yet
recover and yet prove an ass.
How chance Moonshine is gone before
330Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
She will find him by starlight.
Enter Thisbe (Flute).
2110Here she comes, and her passion ends the play.
Methinks she should not use a long one for
such a Pyramus. I hope she will be brief.
335A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus,
which Thisbe, is the better: he for a man, God
2115warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.
She hath spied him already with those
sweet eyes.
340And thus she means, videlicet—
Asleep, my love?
2120What, dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arise!
Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
345Dead? Dead? A tomb
Must cover thy sweet eyes.
2125These lily lips,
This cherry nose,
These yellow cowslip cheeks
350Are gone, are gone!
Lovers, make moan;
2130His eyes were green as leeks.
O Sisters Three,
Come, come to me
355With hands as pale as milk.
Lay them in gore,
2135Since you have shore
With shears his thread of silk.
Tongue, not a word!
360Come, trusty sword,
Come, blade, my breast imbrue!
Thisbe stabs herself.
2140And farewell, friends.
Thus Thisbe ends.
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
365Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the
dead.
2145Ay, and Wall too.
Bottom and Flute arise.
No, I assure you, the wall is down that
parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the
370Epilogue or to hear a Bergomask dance between
two of our company?
2150No epilogue, I pray you. For your play needs
no excuse. Never excuse. For when the players are
all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if
375he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged
himself in Thisbe’s garter, it would have been a fine
2155tragedy; and so it is, truly, and very notably discharged.
But, come, your Bergomask. Let your
epilogue alone.
Dance, and the players exit.
380The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
Lovers, to bed! ’Tis almost fairy time.
2160I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn
As much as we this night have overwatched.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
385The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity
2165In nightly revels and new jollity.They exit.
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon,
390Whilst the heavy plowman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
2170Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
395In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
2175That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite
In the church-way paths to glide.
400And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate’s team
2180From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic. Not a mouse
405Shall disturb this hallowed house.
I am sent with broom before,
2185To sweep the dust behind the door.
Through the house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire.
410Every elf and fairy sprite,
Hop as light as bird from brier,
2190And this ditty after me,
Sing and dance it trippingly.
First rehearse your song by rote,
415To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
2195Will we sing and bless this place.
Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
420To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessèd be,
2200And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
425Ever true in loving be,
And the blots of Nature’s hand
2205Shall not in their issue stand.
Never mole, harelip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
430Despisèd in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.
2210With this field-dew consecrate
Every fairy take his gait,
And each several chamber bless,
435Through this palace, with sweet peace.
And the owner of it blest,
2215Ever shall in safety rest.
Trip away. Make no stay.
Meet me all by break of day.
440If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended:
2220That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
445No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend.
2225If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnèd luck
450Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long.
2230Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
455And Robin shall restore amends.