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So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung Dem.
It seems to me, With ears that sweep away the morning dew; That yet we sleep, we dream -- Do not you think, Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls; The duke was here, and bid us follow bim? Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Her. Yea; and my father. Each under each. A cry more tuneable
And Hippolyta. Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple. In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:
Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow Judge when you hear.- But, soft'; what nymphs
him; are these?
And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep:
(Exeunt. And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;
As they go out, BOTTOM awakes.
Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will The. No doubt they rose up early, to observe answer:- my next iş, Most fair Pyramus.--Hey, The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
ho! - Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Camc here in grace of our solemnity:
Snout, the linker! Starveling! God's my life! But, speak, Egeus; is not this the day
stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a That Hermia should give answer of her choice? most rare vision. I have had a dream,- past the
1 Ege. It is, my lord.
wit of man to say what dream it was: Man is but The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. horns.
Methought I was — there is no man can tell what.
Methought I was, and methought I had,- But Horns and shouts within. DEMETRIUS, LISANDER, inan is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say
HERMIA, and HELENA, wake and start up. what methought I had. The eye of man hath The. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is not heard, the ear of man hath not seen; man's
hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, past; Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
nor his heart to report, what my dream was. Lys. Pardon, my lord.
will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this '[He and the rest kneel to Tueszus. it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter
dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because The.
I pray you all, stand up. end of the play, before the duke! Peradventure, to I know you are two rival enemies; How comes this gentle concord in the world,
make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her That hatred is so far from jealousy,
[Exeunt. To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity ?
SCENE II.-Athens. A Room in Quince's House. Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, half waking: But as yet, I swear Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, Sout, and STARVELING. I cannot truly say how I came here:
Quin. Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he But, as I think, (for truly would I speak,
come home yet? And now I do bethink me, so it is,
Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he I came with Hermia hither: our intent
is transported. Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Flu. 'If he come not, then the play is marred; It Without the peril of the Athenian law. Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have goes not forward, doth it?
Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in enough:
all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he. I beg the law, the law, upon his head.
Flu. No; he hath simply the best wit of any They would have stol'n away, they would, Deme- handicraft man in Athens. trius,
Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is Thereby to have defeated you and me:
a very paramour, for a sweet voice. You, of your wife; and me, of my consent;
Fli. You must say paragon: a paramour is, Of my consent that she should be your wife.
God bless us, a thing of nought.
Snug. Masters, the duke is coming from the But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
temple, an there is two or three lords and ladies (But by some power it is,) my love to Hermia,
more married : if our sport had gone forward, we
had all been made men. Melted as doth the snow, seems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gawd,
Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost Which in my childhood I did dote upon:
six-pence a day during his life; he could not have And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
'scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given The object, and the pleasure of mine eye,
him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day, Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia:
in Pyramus, or nothing. But, like in sickness, did I loath this food;
Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
Quin. Bottom!-0 most courageous day! 0 of this discourse we more will hear anon.
most happy hour! Egeus, I will overbear your will;
Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask For in the temple by and by with us,
me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true AtheThese couples shall eternally be knit.
nian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out. And, for the morning now is something worn,
Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
All that I will tell you,
Bot. Not a word of me.
is, that the duke hath dined :: Get your apparel toWe'll hold a feast in great solemnity
gether; good strings to your beards, new ribbons Come, Hippolyta.
to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; [E.ceunt THE., HiP., Ege., and train. every man look o'er his part; for, the short and Dem. These things seem small and undistinguish the long is, our play is preferred. In any case let able,
Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.
plays the lion, pare his nails, for they shall hang Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye. eat no onions, nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet
out for the lion's claws. And, most dear actors, When overy thing seems double. Hel.
breath; and, I do not doubt, but to hear them say, And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
it is a sweet comedy. No more words; away; go, Mine own, and not mine own.
[Exeunt. • The flews are the large chaps of a hound. 1 Love.
SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Palace of Which makes it tedious: for in all the play
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my noble lord, it is;
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
Which, when I saw rehears'd, I must confess, Hip. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears speak of.
The passion of loud laughter never shed. The. More strange than true, I never may believe
The. What are thoy, that do play it?, These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
Philost. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains,
here, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
Which never labor'd in their minds till now; More than cool reason ever comprehends.
And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories The lunatic, the lover and the poet,
With this same play, against your nuptual. Are of imagination all compact :*
The. And we will hear it. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
No, my noble lord, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
It is not for you: I have heard it over, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
And it is nothing, nothing in the world; The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Unless you can find sport in their intents, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain, heaven,
To do you service, And, as imagination bodies forth
I will hear that play; The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
For never anything can be amiss, Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
When simpleness and duty tender it. A local habitation and a name.
Go, bring them in;-and take your places, ladies. Such tricks hath strong imagination;
[Exit PHILOSTRATE. That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
And duty in his service perishing. Or, in the night, imagining some fear,
T'he. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?
thing. Hip. But all the story of the night told over, Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
The. The kinder we to give them thanks for nothMore witnesseth than fancy's images,
ing. And grows to something of great constancy; Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
And what poor duty can do,
Noble respect takes it in might, not merit.
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practised accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome: Trust me, sweet, The. Come now; what masks, what'dances shall Out of this silence, yet, I pick'd a welcome ; we have,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, What revels are in hand ?' Is there no play,
In least, speak most, to my capacity.
Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is
The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets.
Prol. If we offend, it is with our good-will. ripe; Make choice of which your highness will see first. But with good-will. To show our simple skill,
That you should think, we come not to offend,
(Giring a paper. The. (Reads.] The battle with the Centaurs Consiler then, we come but in despite.
That is the true beginning of our end. to be sung, By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.
We do not come as minding to content you. We'll none of that: that have I told my love,
Our true intent is. All for your delight, In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
We are not here. That you should here repent
you. The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.
The actors are at hand; and by their show, That is an old device; and it was play'd
You shall know all, that you are like to know. When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. The thrice three Muses mourning
for the death Lys. He hath rid his prologue liko a rough colt; Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary.
he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: That is some satire, keen, and critical,
It is not enough to speak, but to speak true. Not sorting with a nuptual ceremony.
Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue, like A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, a child on a recorder ;* 'a sound, but not in govern
And his love Thisbe : very tragical mirth. ment. Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?
The. His speech was like a tangled chain; noThat is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow. thing impaired but all disordered. Who is next? How shall we find the concord of this discord ?
Enter PIRAMUS and THISRE, Wall, Moonshine, Philost. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long;
and Lion, as in dumb show. Which is as brief as I have known a play:
Proh. “Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this But by ten words, my lord, it is too long; • Compacted, made. · Pastime. , . Short account. * Ready.
• A musical instrument.
“ But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. Pyr. “Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me “This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
straightway?" “This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain.
This.“ Tide life, iide death, I come without delay." “This man with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wal!. "Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so; “Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers “And, being done, thus wall away doth go." sunder:
|Exeunt Wall, PYRAMUS, and THISBE. " And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are
The. Now is the mural down between the two content
neighbors. “To whisper; at the which let no man wonder. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so “This man with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, wilful to hear without warning.
“Presenteth moon-shine: for, if you will know, Hip. This is the silliest stuii' that ever I heard. “By moon-shine did these lovers think no scorn
The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and “To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. "This grisly beast, wbich by name lion hight," Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not “The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
theirs. * Did scare away, or rather did atfright:
The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they • And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. " Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain: Here come two noble beasts in, a moon, and a lion. “Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall,
Enter Lion and Moonshine. “ And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain: Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, Lion. “You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do “He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;
fear " And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,
“The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on "His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
floor, “Let lion, moonshine, wall, and lovers twain, “ May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, “At large discourse, while here they do remain.' “When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
(Ex. Prol., Pyr., THISBE, Lion, and Moonshine." Then know, that I, one Snug the joiner, am The. I wonder if the lion be to speak.
“ A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam: Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when For if I should as lion come in strife many asses do.
“Into this place, 'twere pity on my life." Wall. “In this same interlude, it doth befall, The. A very gentle beast and of a good conscience. “That I, one Snout by name, present a wall:
Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er " And such a wall, as I would have you think, “That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valor. “Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, The. True; and a goose for his discretion. “ Did whisper often very secretly.
Dem. Not so, my lord: for his valor cannot “ This loan, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. show,
The. this discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his " That I am that same wall; the truth is so: valor; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: “And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the “ Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." moon.
The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak Moon. “This lantern doth the horned moon better?
present : Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. discourse, my lord.
The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisi-
Moon. “ This lantern doth the horned moon
The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the “O pight, which ever art, when day is not! man should be put into the lantern: How is it else “O night, ó night, alack, alack, alack,
the man i'the moon? “I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!
Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: “ And, thou, O wall, o sweet, O lovely wall, for you see, it is already in snuff.. “ That stand'st between her father's ground and Hip. I am aweary of this moon: Would, he mine!
would change! “ Thou wall, O wall, O) sweet and lovely wall, The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, "Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in ali eyne.
[Wall holds up his fingers. reason, we must stay the time. “Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for Lys. Proceed, moon. this!
Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that “But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
the lantern is the moon: 1, the man in the moon; this “O) wicked wall, through whoin I see no bliss ; thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, iny dog.
“Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me ! » Dem. Why all these should be in the lantern;
The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should for they are in the moon. But, silence; here curse again.
comes Thisbe. Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving
Enter THISBE. me, is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now,
and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will
This. “This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my
love? fall pat as I told you :-Yonder she comes.
(The Lion roars.-THISBE runs off This.“ ( wall, full often bast thou heard my moans,
Dem. Well roared, lion.
The. Well run, Thisbe. “For parting my fair Pyramus and me: "My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones;
Hip. Well shone, moon.- Truly, tne moon
shines with a good grace. “Ihy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.”
The. Well moused, lion. Pyr. “I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
| The Lion Tears Thisba's mantle and exit “To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face.
Dem. And so comes Pyramus. “ Thisby!” This. “My love. thou art my love, I think.”
Lys. And so the lion vanish d. Pyr.“ Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace;
Enter Pyramts. “And like Limander am I trusty still."
Pyr. "Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny This. “And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.”
beams; Pyr. “Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.” “ I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright; This. “As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you." “For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams Pyr. “0, kiss me through the hole of this vile “I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. wall."
“But stay ;-0 spite! This.“ I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all." “But mark;- Poor knight, · Called.
1 In anger; a quibble.
“What dreadful dole is here !
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve : "Eyes, do you see?
Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. “ How can it be?
I fear we shall outsleep the coming inorn, "O dainty duck! O dear!
As much as we this night have overwatch d. “Thy mantle good,
This palpable gross play hath well beguilid “What, stain'd with blood ?
The heavy gait of night.- Sweet friends, to bed. " Approach, ye furies fell!
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity. (Exeunt. * Cut thread and thrum ;? "Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!"
SCENE II. The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend,
Enter Puck. would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, Pyr. “0, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions
And the wolf behowls the moon; frame?
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, “Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear:
All with weary task fordone.. "Which is - no, no, which was the fairest dame, Now the wasted brands do glow, “That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, * with cheer.3
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, “Come, tears, contound
In remembrance of a shroud. "Out, sword, and wound
Now it is the time of night, “The pap of Pyramus:
That the graves all gaping wide, “Ay, that left pap,
Every one lets forth his sprite, “Where heart doih hop:
In the church-way paths to glide: " Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
And we fairies, that do run * Now am I dead,
By the triple of Hecate's team, “Now am I fed,
From the presence of the sun, "My soul is in the sky:
Following darkness like a dream, "Tongue, lose thy light!
Now are frolic; not a mouse "Moon, take thy flight!
Shall disturb this hallow'd house: “Now die, die, die, die, die."
I am sent, with brorm, before, [Dies.- Erit Moonshine. To sweep the dust behind the door. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
Enter OBEROX and TITANIA, with their Train. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing
Obe. Through this house give glimmering light, The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet By the dead and drowsy fire: recover, and prove an ass.
Every elf, and fairy sprite,
And his ditty, after me,
Tita. First, rehearse this song by rote:
To each word a warbling note, · Enter THISBE.
Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Hip. Methinks, she should not use a long one, Will we sing, and bless this place. for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.
SONG, AND DANCE. Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
Obe. Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be; “O Pyramus, arise,
And the issue, there create, "Speak, speak. Quite dumb ?
Ever shall be fortunate. “ Dead, dead? A tomb
So shall all the couples three “Must cover thy sweet eyes.
Ever true in loving be;, “ These lily brows,
And the blots of nature's hand “This cherry nose,
Shall not in their issue stand; “These yellow cowslip cheeks,
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar, “Are gone, are gone:
Nor mark prodigious, such as are "Lovers, make moan!
Despised in nativity, "His eyes were green as leeks.
Shall upon their children be. “O sisters three,
With this field-dew consecrate, “Come, come, to me,
Every fairy take his gait;• “With hands as pale as milk;
And each several chamber bless, “Lay them in gore,
Through this palace with sweet peace : "Since you have shore
E'er shall it in safety rest, “With shears, his thread of silk.
And the owner of it blest." “ Tongue, not a word
Make no stay ;
Meet me all by break of day.
Exeunt OBEROX, TITANIA, and Train. “ Thus Thisbe ends: “Adieu, adieu, adieu."
Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended,) The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead.
That you have but slumbered here, Dem. Ay, and wall too.
While these visions did appear, Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that
And this weak and idle theme, parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between
No more yielding but a dream two of our company?
Gentles, do not reprehend; The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play
If you pardon, we will mend. needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the
And, as I am honest Puck, players are all dead, there need none to be blamed.
If we have unearned luck Marry, if he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and
How to 'scape the serpent's tong'le, hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have
We will make amends, ere long: been a fine tragedy: and so it is truly ; and very
Else the Puck a liar call. potably discharged. But come, your Bergomask:
So, good night unto you all. let your epilogue alone.
Give me your hands if we be friendsh [Here a dance of Clowns.
And Robin shall restore amends. (Exit. · Coarse yarn.
LOVE'S LABOR’S LOST.
FERDINAND, King of Navarre.
Mota, Page to Armado
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Lords, attending on the Princess RosALINE, MERCADE, of France.
Ladies attending on the Princess.
JAQUENETTA, a Country Wench.
Officers and others, atlendants on the King and COSTARD, a Clown.
SCENE I.- Navarre. A Park with a Palace in it. And not to be seen to wink of all the day ;
(When I was wont to think no harm all night, DUMAIN.
And make a dark night too of half the day ;)
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there : King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, 0, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep; Live register'd upon our brazen tombs,
Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep. And then grace us in the disgrace of death
King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. When, spite of cormorant devouring time,
Biron. Let me say no, my liege,an if you please? The endeavor of this present breath may buy I only swore, to study with your grace, That honor, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And stay here in your court for three years' space. And make us heirs of all eternity.
Long. You swore to that, Birón, and to the rest. Therefore, brave conquerors :--- for so you are, Biron. By yea and nay sir, then I swore in jest.That war against your own affections,
What is the end of study ? let me know. And the huge army of the world's desires,
King. Why, that to know, which else we should Our late edict shall strongly stand in force:
not know. Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from Our court shall be a little Academe,
common sense? Still and contemplative in living art.
King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. You three, Birón, Dumain, and Longaville,
Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so, Have sworn for three years' term to live with me, To know the thing I am forbid to know: My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes, As thus - To study where I well may dine, That are recorded in this schedule here:
When I to feast expressly am forbid; Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names; Or study where to meet some mistress fine, That his own hand may strike his honor down, When mistresses from common sense are lud: That violates the smallest branch herein;
Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
Long. I am resolv'd: 'tis but a three years' fast; Study knows that, which yet it doth not know:
Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified; Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most
vain, He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves: Which with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain: To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die; As, painfully to pore upon a book, With all these living in philosophy.
To seck the light of truth; while truth the while Biron. I can but say their protestation over, Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
Light, seeking light, both light of light beguile That is, To live and study here three years. So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, But there are other strict observances:
Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. As, not to see a woman in that term;
Study me how to please the eye indeed, Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there:
By fixing it upon a fairer eye; And, one day in a week to touch no food :
Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, And but one meal on every day beside;
And give him light that was it blinded by. The which, I hope, is not enrolled there;
Study is like the lieaven's glorious sun, And then to sleep but three hours in the night, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;