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.
[Enter PUCK behind.]
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,’
QUINCE
Odours, odours.
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.’
[Exit.]
PUCK
A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here!
[Aside.—Exit.]
THISBE
Must I speak now?
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.’
THISBE
O,—‘As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.’
[Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass’s head.]
PYRAMUS
‘If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine:—’
QUINCE
O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! Help!
[Exeunt Clowns.]
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.
[Exit.]
BOTTOM
Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me afeard.
[Re-enter SNOUT.]
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?
[Re-enter QUINCE.]
QUINCE
Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.
[Exit.]
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.
[Sings.]
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 plainsong 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 enthrallèd 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.