You would not use a gentle lady so; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes, A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia: this, you know, I know: And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia's love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do to my death. Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart with her but, as guest-wise, sojourn'd; And now to Helen is it home return'd, There to remain. Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest, to thy peril, thou abide it dear.2Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. Enter HERMIA. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; press Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth to go? Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? Lys. Lysander'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 know, The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so. Her. You speak not as you think; it cannot be. Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy! Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three, To fashion this false sport in spite of me. Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid! Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,^ Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: 1 Degree, or quality. 2 Pay dearly for it, rue it. 3 i. e. circles. 4 Is all the counsel that we two have shared,' &c. Gregory of Nazianzen's poem on his own life conlains some beautiful lines (resembling these) which burst from the heart and speak the pangs of injured and lost friendship. Shakspeare had never read the poems of Gregory; he was ignorant of the Greek language; but his mother tongue, the language of nature, is the same in Cappadocia as in Britain.'-Gibbon's Hist. vol v p. 17, 8vo. ed. i. e. ingenious, artful. Artificiose, Lat 6 i. e. needles Two of the first," like coats in heraldry, Her. I am amazed at your passionate words: I scorn you not; it seems that you scorn me. Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, To follow me, and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius, (Who 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 Deny your love, so rich within his soul, And 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; But miserable most, to love unlov'd? This you should pity, rather than despise. Her. I understand not what you mean by this. Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks, Make mows upon me when I turn my back; Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up: This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument." But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault; Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy. Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse; My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena! Hel O excellent! Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? Since night you lov'd me; yet since night you left me: Why, then you left me,-O, the gods forbid!- Lys. Her. O me, you juggler! you canker-blossom! Fine, i'faith! Have 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! Now follow if thou dar'st, to try whose right, jole. [Exil. Nor longer stay in your curst company. Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Her. Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the Did not you tell me, I should know the man game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you; I told him of your stealth unto this wood: Her. Why, get you gone: Who is't that hinders you? Hel. A foolish heart that I leave here behind. With Demetrius. Lys. Be not afraid: she shall not harm thee, Helena. Dem. No, sir; she shall not, though you take her part. : Hel. O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd She was a vixen, when she went to school; And, though she be but little, she is fierce." Her. Little again? nothing but low and little?Why will you suffer her to flout me thus ? Let me come to her. Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus of hind'ring knot-grass made; You bead, you acorn. A worm that preys on the leaves or buds of flowers, always beginning in the middle. 2 i e. froward, cross, ill-conditioned, or ill-spoken. 3 Foolish. 4 Anciently knot-grass was believed to prevent the growth of children. By the Athenian garments he had on? As this their jangling I esteem a sport. Obe. Thou 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; And lead these testy rivals so astray, As 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: And from each other look thou lead them thus, Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, To take from thence all error with his might, And make his eye-balls 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 With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy; And then I will her charmed eye release From monster's view, and all things shall be peace, Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste; For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all, I with the Morning's love12 have oft made sport. We 10 The ghosts of self-murderers, who are buried in cross-roads; and of those who being drowned were condemned (according to the opinion of the ancients) to wander for a hundred years, as the rites of sepulchre had never been regularly bestowed on their bodies. 11 Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed.'-Milto's Ode on the Death of a fair Infant. 12 Cephalus, the mighty hunter, and paramour of Au rora, was here probably meant. 13 Oberon here boasts that he was not compelled. like meaner spirits, to vanish at the first dawn Dem. Enter DEMETRIUS. Lysander! speak again. Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, I'll whip thee with a rod: He is defil'd, Dem. Re-enter LYSANDER. Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on; [Lies down. Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS. Puck. Ho, ho! ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot, Puck. Come hither; I am here. Dem. Nay, then thou mock'st me. Thou shalt If ever I thy face by day-light see: [Lies down and sleeps. Enter HELENA. Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours: shine, comforts from the east; That I may back to Athens by day-light, From these that my poor company detest :- Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Thus to make poor females inad. Enter HERMIA. Her. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bot. Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get your 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, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with the honey-bag, signior. Where's monsieur Mustard-seed? Must. Ready. Bot. Give me your neif, monsieur Mustard-seed. Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help cavalero Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones. Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great de sire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful, or two, of driet peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. So doth the woodbine, the sweet honeysuckle, Gently entwist,-the female ivy so Stee wood's Epigrams, or Three Hundred Proverbs. 1 This exclamation would have been uttered with more propriety by Puck, if he were not now playing an assumed character, which he seems to forget. In the old song printed by Percy, in which all his gambols are related, he concludes every stanza with ho! ho! ho! 4 To coy, is to stroke or soothe with the hand. The It was also the established dramatic exclamation given behaviour of Titania on this occasion seems copied from to the devil whenever he appeared on the stage, and at-that of the lady in Apuleius, lib. viii. tributed to him whenever he appeared in reality. 2 Johnson says, the poet perhaps wrote, thou shalt by this dear; as in another place, thou shalt aby it.' 3 These three last lines are to be found in Hay 5 That is fist. So in K. Henry IV. Part II. Pistol says: Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif. 6 The old rough rustic music of the tongs. The folia has this stage direction: 'Musicke Tongs, Rurall Music Enrings the barky fingers of the eim.1 And since we have the vawards of the day, OBERON advances. Enter PUCK. Obc. Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this And mark the musical confusion sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. Of hounds and echo in conjunction. Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep: I wonder of their being here together. The. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe [Touching her eyes with an herb. That Hermia should give answer of her choice? See, as thou wast wont to see: Obe. There lies your love. Puck. Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own Obe. Sound, music. [Still music.] Come, my queen, Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark; Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad,4 Tita. Come, my lord; and in our flight, 1 Steevens says, what Shakspeare seems to mean is this-So the woodbine, i. e. the sweet honeysuckle doth gently entwist the barky fingers of the elm, and so doth the female ivy enring the same fingers. 2 This was the phraseology of the time. So in K. Henry IV. Part I. and unbound the rest, and then came in the other. 3 Dian's bud is the bud of the Agnus Castus, or Chaste Tree. "The vertue of this hearbe is, that he will kepe man and woman chaste.' 4 Sad here signifies only grave, serious. Ege. It is, my lord. The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. Horns, and shout within. DEMETRIUS, LYSANDER, Begin these wood-birds but to couple now? The. [He and the rest kneel to THESEUS I know you are two rival enemies; Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, I came with Hermia hither: our intent Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, 11 5 i. e. the honours due to the morning of May. So in a former scene- to do observance to a morn of May.' 6 Forepart. 7 Chiding means here the cry of hounds. To chile is used sometimes for to sound, or make a noise, without any reference to scolding. Ś The flews are the large chaps of a deep-mouthed hound. 9 Sanded means of a sandy colour, which is one of the true denotements of a blood-hound." 10 Fancy is here love or affection, and is opposed to fury. 11 Tov. And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food: The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: us, For in the temple, by and by And, for the morning now is something worn, [Exeunt THE. HIP. EGE. and Train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguish able, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. Quin. Yea, and the best person too: and he is a Enter SNUG. Snug. Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost Sixpence a-day during his life; he could not have 'scaped sixpence a-day: an the duke had not given him sixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd; he would have deserved it: sixpence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing.3 Enter BOTTOM. Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? happy hour! Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but Her. Methinks, I see these things with parted eye, Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it ask me not what; for, if I tell you, I am no true When every thing seems double. Hel. And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Dem. So methinks: Are you sure eye [Exeunt. fell out. Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom. Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined: Get your apparel together; good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o'er his part; for, the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the nor garlick, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions, do not doubt, but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words; away; go, away. ACT V. [Exeunt. As they go out, BOTTOM awakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and 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 vision. I have had a dream,-past the wit of man to say what 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 he will offer to say what methought I had. The of man 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 dream; it shall be called Bottom's Dream, be-ne sees more devils than vast hell can hold; cause it 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.2 [Exit. SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Quince's House. Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVE-The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination; That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or, in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear? SCENE I. The same. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Attendants. Hip. "Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers The. More strange than true. I never may believe 1 Helena, perhaps, means to say, that having found Demetrius unexpectedly, she considered her property 3 Steevens says that Preston, the actor and author of in him as insecure as that which a person has in a jewel Cambyses, was meant to be ridiculed here. The queen that he has found by accident, which he knows not having bestowed a pension on him of twenty pounds a whether he shall retain, and which therefore may pro-year for the pleasure she received from his acting in the perly enough be called his own and not his own. War-play of Dido, at Cambridge, in 1564. burton proposed to read gemell, i. e. double; and it has also been proposed to read gimmal, which signifies a pouble ring. 2 Theobald conjectured, happily rough, that we should read after death.' 4 So in the Tempest: thy brains, Now useless, boil'd within thy skull.' 5 i. e. are made of mere imagination. 6 i. e. consistency, stability, certainty. 1 |