Tom Snowt, the tinker.

Snowt. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You, Pyramus's father; my felf, Thisby's father; Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part; I hope, there is a play fitted.

Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am flow of study.

Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

Bot. Let me play the Lion too; I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar, that, I will make the Duke fay, let him roar again, let him roar again.

Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchefs and the ladies, that they would fhriek, and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every mother's fan.

Bot. I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more difcretion but to hang us; but I will aggravate my voice fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a sweet-fac'd man; a proper man, as one shall fee in a fummer's day; a moft lovely gentleman-like man therefore you must needs play Pyramus.

Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I beft to play it in?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will discharge it in either your ftraw-colour beard, your orange-tawny-beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French crown-colour'd beard; your perfect yellow.

Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But, masters, here are your parts; and I am to intreat you, request you, and defire you, to con them by to morrow night; and meet me in the palace-wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light, there we will rehearfe; for if we meet in the city, we fhall be dog'd with company,

and

and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. pray you, fail me not.

I

Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearse more obfcenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfect, 'adieu.

Quin. At the Duke's oak we meet.

Bot. Enough; hold, or cut bow-ftrings.-[Exeunt.

АСТ II.

SCENE, a Wood.

Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck (or Robin-goodfellow) at another.

PUCK.

OW now, fpirit, whither wander you?
Fai. Over hill, over dale,

H°

Through bush, through briar,

Over park, over pale,

Through flood, through fire,
I do wander every where,
Swifter than the moon's fphere;
And I ferve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowflips tall her penfioners be,
In their gold coats fpots you fee,
Those be rubies, Fairy-favours:
In those freckles live their favours:
I must go feek fome dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear.
Farewel, thou lob of fpirits, I'll be gone,
Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.

Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to night, Take heed, the Queen come not within his fight.

For

For Oberon is paffing fell and wrath,
Because that the, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy, ftol'n from an Indian King:
She never had fo fweet a changeling;
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forefts wild;
But the per-force with-holds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flow'rs, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear, or fpangled ftar-light fheen,
But they do fquare, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.

Fai. Or I mistake your fhape and making quite,
Or else you are that fhrewd, and knavish sprite,
Call'd Robin-goodfellow. Are you not he,
That fright the maidens of the villageree,
Skim milk, and fometimes labour in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless hufwife chern;
And fometime make the drink to bear no barm,
Mif-lead night-wand'rers, laughing at their harm?
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
Are not you he?

Puck. Thou speak'ft aright;

I am that merry wand'rer of the night:
I jest to Oberon, and make him fmile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horfe beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly-foal;
And fometimes lurk I in a goffip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,

And when the drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wifeft aunt, telling the faddeft tale,
Sometime for three-foot ftool mistaketh me;
Then flip I from her bum, down topples fhe,
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough;

And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and fwear,
A merrier hour was never wafted there.

But

But make room, fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai. And here my mistress: would, that he were gone!

Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one door with his train, and the Queen at another with hers.

Ob. Il met by moon-light, proud Titania.
Queen.. What, jealous Oberon? fairies, skip hence,
I have forfworn his bed and company.

Ob. Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
Queen. Then I must be thy lady; but I know,
When thou ha'ft ftoll'n away from fairy land,
And in the shape of Corin fate all day,
Playing on pipes of corn, and verfing love
To am'rous Phillida. Why art thou here,
Come from the fartheft fteep of India?
But that, forfooth, the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskin'd miftrefs and your warrior Love,
To Thefeus must be wedded; and you come
To give their bed joy and profperity.

Ob. How can't thou thus for fhame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolita;

Knowing, I know thy love to Thefeus?

Didft thou not lead him through the glimmering night
From Perigune, whom he ravifhed; (F)

And make him with fair Egle break his faith,
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?

Queen. These are the forgeries of jealoufie:
And never fince the middle fummer's spring

(5) From Perigenia, whom he ravis'd:] Thus all the Editors, either not knowing, or not attending to, the History of this Lady, have falfely call'd her but our Author, who diligently perus'd Plutarch, and glean'd from him, where his Subject would admit, knew, from the Life of Thefeus, that her Name was Perigyné; (or Perigané) by whom Thefeus had his Son Melanippus. She was the Daughter of Sinnis a cruel Robber, and Tormenter of Paffengers in the Ifthmus. Plutarch and Athenaus are both exprefs in the Circumftance of Thefeus ravishing her and the Former of them adds (as Diod. Siculus, Apollodorus and Paufanias, likewife tell us ;) that he killed her Father into the Bargain. I corrected this Miftake of the Name in my SHAKESPEARE reftor'd; and Mr. Pope has vouchfafed to correct from Me in his laft Edition.

Met we on hill, in dale, foreft, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rufhy brook,
Or on the beached margent of the fea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou haft difturb'd our fport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have fuck'd up from the fea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land,
Have every pelting river made so proud,
That they have over-born their continents.
The ox hath therefore ftretch'd his yoak in vain,
The ploughman loft his fweat; and the green corn
Hath rotted, ere its youth attain'd a beard.
The fold ftands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine-mens morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the queint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undiftinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter here, (6)

(6)

Να

want their Winter here.] The concluding Word is, certainly, a very dragging Expletive: and tho' I have not ventur'd to difplace it, I fcarce believe it genuine. I once fufpected it should be

want their winter Chear;

i. e. their Jollity, ufual Merry-makings at that Seafon. Mr. Warburton has ingeniously advanced a more refin'd Emendation; which I'll fubjoin with his own Reasoning, in Confirmation.

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"Is it an aggravating Circumftance of the Miferies here recapitulated, that the wretched Sufferers want their Winter? On the contrary, in the Descriptions of the Happiness of the Golden Age, it was always counted an Addition to it, that they wanted Winter. It feems as plain to Me as day, that we ought to read:,

want their Winters heried;

« i. e. prais'd, celebrated; an Old Word: and the Line, that follows, "fhews the propriety of it here. The Thing is this; The Winter is the "Seafon for rural Rejoycings on feveral Accounts; because they have got their Fruits in, and have wherewithal to make merry. (And therefore, well might she say,

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The human Mortals want their Winters hereid, "when she had described the Dearths of the Seasons, and the fruitless "Toil of the Husbandman.) Then, the Gloominess of the Season, and the "Vacancy of it, encourage them to it; and laftly, which is principally in"timated here, (notwithstanding the Impropriety of the Sentiment, as it is "circumftanc'd) fince Chriftianity, this Seafon, on Account of the Birth of

"the