Bot. 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.

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

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

Snout. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? Star. I fear it, I promise you.

Bot. Masters, you ought to cousider with yourselves to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, it 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.

Bot. 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; aud tell them plainly, he is Snug the joiner.

Quin. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.

Snug. Doth the moon shine, that night we play our play.

Bot. A calendar, a calendar! look in the alma nack; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine.

• Terrible.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.

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

Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to dis. figure, or to present, the person of moon-shine. 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 chinks of a wall.

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

Bet. Some man or other must present wall: and let him have some plaster, or some lome, or some rough-cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.

Quin. 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 home-spuns have we swagger. ing 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.

Quin. Speak, Pyramus:-Thisby, stand forth.
Pyr. Thisby, the flowers of odious suvours swect,—
Quin. Odours, odours.

Pyr.

odours savours sweet:

So doth thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, And by and by I will to thee appear.

* Thicket.

[Exit.

Puck. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here! [Aside.-Exit.

This. Must I speak now?

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

This. Most radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,

Of colour like the red-rose on triumphant brier, Most briskly 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.

Quin. Ninus' tomb, man: why you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your part at once, cuest and all.-Pyramus enter; your cue is past; it is, never tire.

Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass's head.

This. O,-As true astruest horse, that yet would never tire.

Pyr. If I were fuir, Thisby, I were only thine:Quin. O moustrous! 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, sometimes a hound,

A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; And neigh, and bark, and gruut, and roar, and burn, Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

[Exit. Bot. Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them, to make me afeard.

* Young man.

The last words of the preceding speech, which serve as a hint to him who is to speak next.

† Afraid.

Re-enter Snout.

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

Bot. What do you see? you see an ass's head of your own; Do you?

Re-enter Quince.

Quin. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.

Bot. I see their knavery: this is

[Exit.

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.

The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawney bill,

The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;

[Sings.

Tita. What augel wakes me from my flowery bed?

[Waking.

Bot. 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 ?

Tita. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again : Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,

So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;

And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.

The cuckoo, with his uniform note.

Bot. 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.

Tita. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

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

own turn.

Tita. 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 pressed flowers dost sleep :
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,

That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!

Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberriest, 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,

* Joke.

† Gooseberries.