Act III, Scene i
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our | |
| | rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn | |
| | brake our tiring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will | |
| | do it before the duke. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | What sayest thou, bully Bottom? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | There are things in this comedy of 'Pyramus and Thisby' that | |
| | will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill | |
| | himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that? | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | By'r lakin, a parlous fear. | |
|
|
| | STARVELING | |
| | I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Not a whit: I have a device to make all well. Write 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 better assurance, tell them that I Pyramus am not | |
| | Pyramus but Bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be | |
| | written in eight and six. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight. | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? | |
|
|
| | STARVELING | |
| | I fear it, I promise you. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to bring in, | |
| | God shield us! a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing: | |
| | for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; | |
| | and we ought to look to it. | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Nay, you must name his name, and half his face 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 wish you, or, I would request you, or, I would entreat you, | |
| | not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. 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 name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things; that | |
| | is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber: for, you know, | |
| | Pyramus and Thisbe meet by moonlight. | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | Doth the moon shine that night we play our play? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; find out | |
| | moonshine, find out moonshine. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Yes, it doth shine that night. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Why, then may you leave a casement of the great chamber-window, | |
| | where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a | |
| | lantern, and say he comes to disfigure or to present the person | |
| | of moonshine. Then there is another thing: we must have a | |
| | wall in the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the | |
| | story, did talk through the chink of a wall. | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | You can never bring in a wall.—What say you, Bottom? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Some man or other must present wall: and let him have | |
| | some plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast about him, to | |
| | signify wall; and let him hold his fingers thus, and through that | |
| | cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down, every | |
| | mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: | |
| | when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake; and so | |
| | every one according to his cue. | |
|
|
| | PUCK | |
| | What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here, | |
| | So near the cradle of the fairy queen? | |
| | What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor; | |
| | An actor too perhaps, if I see cause. | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Speak, Pyramus.—Thisby, stand forth. | |
|
|
| | PYRAMUS | |
| 'Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,' | |
|
|
| | PYRAMUS | |
| '—odours savours sweet: | |
| So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.— | |
| | But hark, a voice! stay thou but here awhile, | |
| And by and by I will to thee appear.' | |
|
|
| | PUCK | |
| | A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here! | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Ay, marry, must you: for you must understand he goes | |
| | but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. | |
|
|
| | THISBE | |
| 'Most radiant Pyramus, most lily white of hue, | |
| Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, | |
| | Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew, | |
| As true as truest horse, that would never tire, | |
| | I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.' | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Ninus' tomb, man: why, you must not speak that yet: | |
| | that you answer to Pyramus. You speak all your part at once, | |
| | cues, and all.—Pyramus enter: your cue is past; it is 'never | |
| | tire.' | |
|
|
| |
[Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head.]
| |
|
|
| | THISBE | |
| | O,'—As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.' | |
|
|
| | PYRAMUS | |
| | 'If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine:—' | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! | |
| | fly, masters! Help! | |
|
|
| | PUCK | |
| | I'll follow you; I'll lead you about a round, | |
| Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier; | |
| | Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, | |
| A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; | |
| | And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, | |
| | Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make | |
| | me afeard. | |
|
|
| | SNOUT | |
| | O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on thee? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | What do you see? you see an ass-head of your own, do you? | |
|
|
| | QUINCE | |
| | Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | I 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 and down here, | |
| | and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. | |
|
|
| The ousel cock, so black of hue, | |
| With orange-tawny bill, | |
| The throstle with his note so true, | |
| The wren with little quill. | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| |
[Waking.]
| |
| | What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| |
[Sings.]
| |
| The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, | |
| The plain-song cuckoo gray, | |
| Whose note full many a man doth mark, | |
| And dares not answer nay;— | |
| | for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? | |
| | Who would give a bird the lie, though he cry 'cuckoo' never so? | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| | I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again; | |
| | Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note. | |
| | So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; | |
| | And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, | |
| | On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for | |
| | that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little | |
| | company together now-a-days: the more the pity that some honest | |
| | neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon | |
| | occasion. | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| | Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of | |
| | this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn. | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| | Out of this wood do not desire to go; | |
| | Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no. | |
| | I am a spirit of no common rate,— | |
| | The 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; | |
| | And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, | |
| | And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep: | |
| | And I will purge thy mortal grossness so | |
| | That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.— | |
| | Peasblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed! | |
|
|
| | FOURTH FAIRY | |
| | Where shall we go? | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| | Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; | |
| | Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; | |
| | Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, | |
| | With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; | |
| | The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, | |
| | And, for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, | |
| | And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, | |
| | To have my love to bed and to arise; | |
| | And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, | |
| | To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes: | |
| | Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. | |
|
|
| | FIRST FAIRY | |
| | Hail, mortal! | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | I cry your worships mercy, heartily.—I beseech your | |
| | worship's name. | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb. If I | |
| | cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.—Your name, honest | |
| | gentleman? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and | |
| | to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peasblossom, I | |
| | shall desire you of more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech | |
| | you, sir? | |
|
|
| | BOTTOM | |
| | Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well: | |
| | That same cowardly giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a | |
| | gentleman of your house: I promise you your kindred hath made my | |
| | eyes water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, good | |
| | Master Mustardseed. | |
|
|
| | TITANIA | |
| Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower. | |
| The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye; | |
| | And when she weeps, weeps every little flower; | |
| Lamenting some enforced chastity. | |
| Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. | |
|
|
|