1    Are we all met?

2    Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place
3    for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our
4    stage, this hawthorn-brake our tiring-house; and we
5    will do it in action as we will do it before the duke.

6    Peter Quince,--

7    What sayest thou, bully Bottom?

8    There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and
9    Thisby that will never please. First, Pyramus must
10   draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies
11   cannot abide. How answer you that?

12   By'r lakin, a parlous fear.

13   I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

14   Not a whit: I have a device to make all well.
15   Write me a prologue; and let the prologue seem to
16   say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that
17   Pyramus is not killed indeed; and, for the more
18   better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not
19   Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them
20   out of fear.

21   Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be
22   written in eight and six.

23   No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

24   Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?

25   I fear it, I promise you.

26   Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to
27   bring in--God shield us!--a lion among ladies, is a
28   most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful
29   wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to
30   look to 't.

31   Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.

32   Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must
33   be seen through the lion's neck: and he himself
34   must speak through, saying thus, or to the same
35   defect,--'Ladies,'--or 'Fair-ladies--I would wish
36   You,'--or 'I would request you,'--or 'I would
37   entreat you,--not to fear, not to tremble: my life
38   for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it
39   were pity of my life: no I am no such thing; I am a
40   man as other men are;' and there indeed let him name
41   his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

42   Well it shall be so. But there is two hard things;
43   that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; for,
44   you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight.

45   Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?

46   A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find
47   out moonshine, find out moonshine.

48   Yes, it doth shine that night.

49   Why, then may you leave a casement of the great
50   chamber window, where we play, open, and the moon
51   may shine in at the casement.

52   Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns
53   and a lanthorn, and say he comes to disfigure, or to
54   present, the person of Moonshine. Then, there is
55   another thing: we must have a wall in the great
56   chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby says the story, did
57   talk through the chink of a wall.

58   You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?

59   Some man or other must present Wall: and let him
60   have some plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast
61   about him, to signify wall; and let him hold his
62   fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus
63   and Thisby whisper.

64   If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down,
65   every mother's son, and rehearse your parts.
66   Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your
67   speech, enter into that brake: and so every one
68   according to his cue.

69   What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
70   So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
71   What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
72   An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

73   Speak, Pyramus. Thisby, stand forth.

74   Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,--

75   Odours, odours.

76   --odours savours sweet:
77   So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.
78   But hark, a voice! stay thou but here awhile,
79   And by and by I will to thee appear.

80   A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here.

81   Must I speak now?

82   Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he goes
83   but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

84   Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
85   Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
86   Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,
87   As true as truest horse that yet would never tire,
88   I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.

89   'Ninus' tomb,' man: why, you must not speak that
90   yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your
91   part at once, cues and all Pyramus enter: your cue
92   is past; it is, 'never tire.'

93   O,--As true as truest horse, that yet would
94   never tire.

95   If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.

96   O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray,
97   masters! fly, masters! Help!

98   I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
99   Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:
100  Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
101  A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
102  And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
103  Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

104  Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to
105  make me afeard.

106  O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee?

107  What do you see? you see an asshead of your own, do
108  you?

109  Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art
110  translated.

111  I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me;
112  to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir
113  from this place, do what they can: I will walk up
114  and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear
115  I am not afraid.
Sings
116  The ousel cock so black of hue,
117  With orange-tawny bill,
118  The throstle with his note so true,
119  The wren with little quill,--

Awaking
120   What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

Sings
121  The finch, the sparrow and the lark,
122  The plain-song cuckoo gray,
123  Whose note full many a man doth mark,
124  And dares not answer nay;--
125  for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish
126  a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry
127  'cuckoo' never so?

128  I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
129  Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note;
130  So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
131  And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me
132  On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.

133  Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason
134  for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and
135  love keep little company together now-a-days; the
136  more the pity that some honest neighbours will not
137  make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.

138  Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

139  Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out
140  of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.

141  Out of this wood do not desire to go:
142  Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
143  I am a spirit of no common rate;
144  The summer still doth tend upon my state;
145  And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
146  I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
147  And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
148  And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
149  And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
150  That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
151  Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!

152  Ready.

153  And I.

154  And I.

155  And I.

156  Where shall we go?

157  Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
158  Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
159  Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
160  With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
161  The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
162  And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
163  And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
164  To have my love to bed and to arise;
165  And pluck the wings from Painted butterflies
166  To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes:
167  Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

168  Hail, mortal!

169  Hail!

170  Hail!

171  Hail!

172  I cry your worship's mercy, heartily: I beseech your
173  worship's name.

174  Cobweb.

175  I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master
176  Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with
177  you. Your name, honest gentleman?

178  Peaseblossom.

179  I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your
180  mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good
181  Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more
182  acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you, sir?

183  Mustardseed.

184  Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well:
185  that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath
186  devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise
187  you your kindred had made my eyes water ere now. I
188  desire your more acquaintance, good Master
189  Mustardseed.

190  Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
191  The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
192  And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
193  Lamenting some enforced chastity.
194  Tie up my love's tongue bring him silently.