ACT THIRD- SCENE I-THE WOOD TITANIA LYING ASLEEP Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING 7 bully] A good fellow; a general term of endearment, without any insinuation of blustering or hectoring. Cf. Henry V, IV, i, 48: "I love the lovely bully.' SNOUT. By 'r lakin, a parlous fear. STAR. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done. 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? - 20 BOT. 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 wildfowl than your lion living: and we ought to look to 't. 30 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," 22 eight and six] in alternate verses of eight and six syllables, a common metre of ballads. The prologue, as spoken in Act V. i. 108 seq., when the play is performed, is in alternately rhymed lines of ten syllables each. The piece, as rehearsed, bears small relation at this and other points to the actual performance. you, or, "I would request you," or, "I would entreat -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 40 them plainly, he is Snug the joiner. But there is two hard QUIN. Well, it shall be so. things; that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight. SNOUT. Doth the moon shine that night we play our play? for, you BOT. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find out moonshine, find out moonshine. QUIN. Yes, it doth shine that night. BOT. Why, then may you leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open, and the 50 moon may shine in at the casement. QUIN. 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? BOT. Some man or other must present wall: and let 60 him have some plaster, or some loam, or some roughcast about him, to signify wall; and 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 swaggering here, So near the cradle of the fairy queen ? QUIN. Speak, Pyramus. Thisby, stand forth. So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear. [Exit. PUCK. A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here. [Exit. FLU. Must I speak now? 80 QUIN. Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again. FLU. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire, 85 Jen] See note on L. L. L., III, i, 128. QUIN. "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 90 cue is past; it is, "never tire." FLU. O,- As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire. Re-enter Puck, and ВоTтOм with an ass's head BOT. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine. QUIN. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! Help! [Exeunt Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and Starveling. 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. BOT. 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? BOT. What do you see? you see an ass-head of your own, do you? [Exit Snout. 106 an ass-head of your own] a familar tu quoque. Cf. M. Wives, I, iv, 114 : "You shall have a fool's head of your own." The transformation or "translation" of a man into an ass is the main topic of the popular Greek novel, The Golden Ass, of Apuleius, translated by William Adlington, 1566. Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584, and 100 |