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The. Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours, Between our after-fupper, and bed-time? Where is our ufual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand? Is there no play, To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philoftrate.`

Philoft. Here, mighty Thefeus.

The. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What mask? what mufick? How fhall we beguile The lazy time, if not with fome delight?

Philoft. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe; Make choice of which your highness will fee first.

[Giving a paper.

The. reads.] The battle of the Centaurs, to be fung
By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.

We'll none of that: that I have told my love,
In glory of my kinfman Hercules.

The riot of the tipfy Bacchanals,

Tearing the Thracian finger in their rage.
That is an old device; and it was play'd
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
The thrice three Mufes mourning for the death
Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary.

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That is fome fatire, keen, and critical,

Not forting with a nuptial ceremony.

a abridgment]-plays were fo called, from their comprising the events of years in the compass of a few hours.

The thrice three Mufes]-alluding perhaps to Spenfer's "Tears of "the Mufes," the more than mortal fweetness of whose paftorals our author is supposed to intimate, A&t II, S. 2. where the Queen fays of Oberon,

"And, in the shape of Corin, fate all day" &c.

or this pretended title may contain an oblique fatire upon those, who could fuffer Spenfer himself to die in distress.

critical,cenforious.

A tedious

A tedious brief fcene of young Pyramus,
And bis love Thisbe: very tragical mirth.
Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?

That is, hot ice, and wonderous 'ftrange fnow.
How fhall we find the concord of this difcord?

Philoft. A play there is, my lord, fome ten words long;
Which is as brief as I have known a play;
But 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.
And tragical, my noble lord, it is;
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
Which, when I faw rehears'd, I must confess,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The paffion of loud laughter never shed.

The. What are they, that do play it?

Philoft. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,
Which never labour'd in their minds 'till now;

And now have toil'd their "unbreath'd memories
With this fame play, against your nuptial.

The. And we will hear it.

Philoft. No, my noble lord,

It is not for you: I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find fport in their intents,

W

Extremely stretch'd, and conn'd with cruel pain,
To do you service.

The. I will hear that play :

For never any thing can be amifs,

· ftrange black; fcorching.

unbreath'd]-untried, unexperienced.

w intents, &c.]-entertainment, which in compliment to you, they have rack'd their brains to devife.

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When fimpleness and duty tender it.

Go, bring them in;-and take your places, ladies.

[Exit Philoft. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his fervice perishing.

The. Why, gentle fweet, you fhall fee no fuch thing. Hip. He fays, they can do nothing in this kind.

The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: And what poor duty cannot do,

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Noble refpect takes it in might, not merit.

Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver, and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,

y

Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears,
And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome: Trust me, sweet,
Out of this filence, yet, I pick'd a welcome;
And in the modesty of fearful duty

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
Of fawcy and audacious eloquence.

Love, therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity,

In least, speak moft, to my capacity.

Enter Philoftrate.

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Philoft. So please your grace, the prologue is addrest. The. Let him approach.

Enter the prologue.

Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you should think, we come not to offend,

[Flour. Trum.

* it in might, not merit.]-the best in its might to do, for the best that might be done-the will for the deed.

Y periods]-full ftops.

2

addreft.]-prepared to enter.

But

But with good-will. To fhew our fimple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.
Confider then, we come but in defpite.

We do not come,

Our true intent is.

We are not here.

as minding to content you,
All for your delight,

That you should here repent you,

The actors are at hand; and, by their show,
You shall know all, that you are like to know.

The. This fellow doth not stand upon points..

Lyf. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; he knows not the ftop. A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on this prologue, like a child on a * recorder; a found, but not in government. The. His fpeech was like a tangled chain; nothing impair'd, but all difordered. Who is next?

Enter Pyramus and Thibe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show.

Prol. "Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show; "But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. “This man is Pyramus, if you would know;

"This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain.

"This man, with lime and rough-caft, doth prefent "Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers funder: "And through wall's chink, poor fouls, they are content "To whisper; at the which let no man wonder. “This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn, "Presenteth moon-fhine: for, if you will know, By moon-fhine did thefe lovers think no fcorn "To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. "This grifly beaft, which by name lion hight, "The trufty Thisby, coming firft by night,

recorder ;]-a flute.

F 3

b government.]-tune.

Did

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"Did fcare away, or rather did affright:
"And, as fhe fled, her mantle she did fall;
"Which lion vile with bloody mouth did ftain :
"Anon comes Pyramus, fweet youth, and tall,
"And finds his trufty Thisby's mantle flain:
"Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
"He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;
"And (Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,)

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"His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, "Let lion, moon-fhine, wall, and lovers twain, "At large difcourfe, while here they do remain." [Exeunt all but Wall.

The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many affes do.

Wall. "In this fame interlude, it doth befall,

"That I, one Snout by name, prefent a wall:

"And fuch a wall, as I would have you think,
"That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,
"Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
"Did whisper often very fecretly.

"This lome, this rough-caft, and this stone, doth fhew
"That I am that fame wall; the truth is fo:
"And this the cranny is, right and finifter,

[Holding up one hand, with a finger feparated. "Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." The. Would you defire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittieft partition that ever I heard difcourse, my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence!

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. "O grim-look'd night! O night with hue fo black! "O night, which ever art, when day is not!

let fall.

flain:]-torn.

"O

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