Act III, Scene 1

[The Wood.]

[The Queen of Fairies still lying asleep.]

[Enter Bottom, Quince, Snout, Starveling, Snug and Flute.]

BOTTOM.
Are we all met?

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

BOTTOM.
Peter Quince?

QUINCE.
What sayest thou, bully Bottom?

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

SNOUT.
By’r lakin, a parlous fear.

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

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

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

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

SNOUT.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?

STARVELING.
I fear it, I promise you.

BOTTOM.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves, to bring in (God shield
us!) a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. For there is not a
more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to look to
it.

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 Thisbe, 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 Thisbe
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 everyone 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.—Thisbe, stand forth.

PYRAMUS.
Thisbe, the flowers of odious savours sweet

QUINCE.
Odours, odours.

PYRAMUS.
. . . odours savours sweet.
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe 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!

[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 yet 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.

[Enter Puck and Bottom with an ass’s head.]

PYRAMUS.
If I were fair, Thisbe, 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.

[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?

[Exit Snout.]

[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 plain-song 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 nowadays.
The more the pity that some honest neighbours will not make them
friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.

TITANIA.
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

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

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

[Enter four Fairies.]

PEASEBLOSSOM.
Ready.

COBWEB.
And I.

MOTH.
And I.

MUSTARDSEED.
And I.

ALL.
Where shall we go?

TITANIA.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm’s eyes,
To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

PEASEBLOSSOM.
Hail, mortal!

COBWEB.
Hail!

MOTH.
Hail!

MUSTARDSEED.
Hail!

BOTTOM.
I cry your worships mercy, heartily.—I beseech your worship’s name.

COBWEB.
Cobweb.

BOTTOM.
I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb. If I cut
my finger, I shall make bold with you.—Your name, honest gentleman?

PEASEBLOSSOM.
Peaseblossom.

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

MUSTARDSEED.
Mustardseed.

BOTTOM.
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well. That same cowardly
giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I
promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you
of more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.

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

[Exeunt.]