Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Suzanne Westfall
Not Peer Reviewed

A Midsummer Night's Dream (Folio 1, 1623)


152
A Midsomer nights Dreame.
request you, or I would entreat you, not to feare, not to
tremble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither
as a Lyon, it were pitty of my life. No, I am no such
thing, I am a man as other men are; and there indeed let
855him name his name, and tell him plainly hee is Snug the
ioyner.
Quin. Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard
things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a cham-
ber: for you know Piramus and Thisby meete by Moone-
860light.
Sn. Doth the Moone shine that night wee play our
play?
Bot. A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack,
finde out Moone-shine, finde out Moone-shine.
865
Enter Pucke.
Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.
Bot. Why then may you leaue a casement of the great
chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moone
may shine in at the casement.
870Quin. I, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns
and a lanthorne, and say he comes to disfigure, or to pre-
sent the person of Moone-shine. Then there is another
thing, we must haue a wall in the great Chamber; for Pi-
ramus and Thisby (saies the story) did talke through the
875chinke of a wall.
Sn. You can neuer bring in a wall. What say you
Bottome?
Bot. Some man or other must present wall, and let
him haue some Plaster, or some Lome, or some rough
880cast about him, to signifie wall; or let him hold his fin-
gers thus; and through that cranny shall Piramus and
Thisby whisper.
Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit
downe euery mothers sonne, and rehearse your parts.
885Piramus, you begin; when you haue spoken your speech,
enter into that Brake, and so euery one according to his
cue.
Enter Robin.
Rob. What hempen home-spuns haue we swagge-
890ring here,
So neere the Cradle of the Faierie Queene?
What, a Play toward? Ile be an auditor,
An Actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
Quin. Speake Piramus: Thisby stand forth.
895Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious sauors sweete.
Quin. Odours, odours.
Pir. Odours sauors sweete,
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby deare.
But harke, a voyce: stay thou but here a while,
900And by and by I will to thee appeare.
Exit. Pir.
Puck. A stranger Piramus, then ere plaid here.
This. Must I speake now?
Pet. I marry must you. For you must vnderstand he
goes but to see a noyse that he heard, and is to come a-
905gaine.
Thys. Most radiant Piramus, most Lilly white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant bryer,
Most brisky Iuuenall, and eke most louely Iew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre,
910Ile meete thee Piramus, at Ninnies toombe.
Pet. Ninus toombe man: why, you must not speake
that yet; that you answere to Piramus: you speake all
your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is
past; it is neuer tyre.
915Thys. O, as true as truest horse, that yet would neuer
tyre:
Pir. If I were faire, Thisby I were onely thine.
Pet. O monstrous. O strange. We are hanted; pray
masters, flye masters, helpe.
920
The Clownes all Exit.
Puk. Ile follow you, Ile leade you about a Round,
Through bogge, through bush, through brake, through
Sometime a horse Ile be, sometime a hound:
A hogge, a headlesse beare, sometime a fire,
925And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne,
Like horse, hound, hog, beare, fire, at euery turne.
Exit.
Enter Piramus with the Asse head.
Bot. Why do they run away? This is a knauery of
them to make me afeard.
Enter Snowt.
930Sn. O Bottom, thou art chang'd; What doe I see on
thee?
Bot. What do you see? You see an Asse-head of your
owne, do you?
Enter Peter Quince.
935Pet. Blesse thee Bottome, blesse thee; thou art transla-
ted.
Exit.
Bot. I see their knauery; this is to make an asse of me,
to fright me if they could; but I will not stirre from
this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and downe
940here, and I will sing that they shall heare I am not a-
fraid
.
The Woosell cocke, so blacke of hew,
With Orenge-tawny bill.
The Throstle, with his note so true,
945The Wren and little quill.
Tyta. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?
Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
The plainsong Cuckow gray;
Whose note full many a man doth marke,
950And dares not answere, nay.
For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow,
neuer so?
Tyta. I pray thee gentle mortall, sing againe,
955Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;
On the first view to say, to sweare I loue thee.
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue me.
Bot. Me-thinkes mistresse, you should haue little
960reason for that: and yet to say the truth, reason and
loue keepe little company together, now-adayes.
The more the pittie, that some honest neighbours will
not make them friends. Nay, I can gleeke vpon occa-
sion.
965Tyta. Thou art as wise, as thou art beautifull.
Bot. Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get
out of this wood, I haue enough to serue mine owne
turne.
Tyta. Out of this wood, do not desire to goe,
970Thou shalt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate:
The Summer still doth tend vpon my state,
And I doe loue thee; therefore goe with me,
Ile giue thee Fairies to attend on thee;
975And they shall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleepe:
And I will purge thy mortall grossenesse so,
That thou shalt like an airie spirit go.

Enter Pease-blossome, Cobweb, Moth, Mustard-
980seede, and foure Fairies.
Fai. Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where shall we go?
Tita. Be