'This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, 'Presenteth moonshine: for, if you will know, 'By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn Unless you can find sport in their intents, Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake: Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Enter Philostrate. Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will. We do not come as minding to content you, We are not here. That you should here repent you, The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. Lys. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt, he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true. And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain: 'Whercat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, 'He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; 'And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade, 'His dagger drow, and died. For all the rest, Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain, 'At large discourse, while here they do remain.' [Exeunt Prol. Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine.. The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do. Wall. In this same interlude, it doth befall, That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, 'Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, 'Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.' The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord. The. Pyramus draws near the wall; silence ! Enter Pyramus. Pyr. O grim-look'd night! O night with huc so 'O night, which ever art, when day is not' 'I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!- Thou wall, O' wall, O sweet and lovely wall, Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue,O like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government. The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show. Prol. 'Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show; 'But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. 'This man is Pyramus, if you would know; "This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain. "This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present 'Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder: And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are content eyne. this! wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss 'But what see I? No Thisby do I sec. 'Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!' The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again. Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving me, is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you:-Yonder she comes. i Enter Thisbe. This. 'O wall, full often hast thou heard my For parting my fair Pyramus and me: This. My love! thou art my love, I think.' Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's Lys. Proceed, moon. grace; And like Limander am I trusty still.' This. And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.' This. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.' Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb incet me straightway?? This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.' Wall. Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; "And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.' [Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning. Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. here, "When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. Then know, that I, one Snug the joiner, am A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam: 'For if I should as lion come in strife Into this place, 'twere pity on my life.' The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw. Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goose for his discretion. Dem. Not so, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose earries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. Moon. This lantern doth the horned moon present:" Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. Moon. This lantern doth the horned moon present; 'Myself the man i' th' moon do seem to be.' The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern: How is it else the man i' the moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: for, you see, it is already in snuff.1 flip. I am aweary of this moon: Would, he would change! The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But, silence; here comes Thisbe. Enter Thisbe. This. This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?' Hip. Well shone, moon.-Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. The. Well moused, lion. [The lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit. Dem. And so comes Pyramus. Lys. And then the moon vanishes. Pur. Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; 'I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright: For, by thy gracious, golden glittering streams, I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. 'But stay;-0 spite! 'But mark:-Poor knight, 'What dreadful dole is here! Eyes, do you see? "O dainty duck! O dear! Thy mantle good, 'What, stain'd with blood? O fates! come, come; 3 Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!? * The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame? 'Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear: Which is—no, no-which was the fairest dame, That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer.* 'Come, tears, confound; Ay, that left pap, Tongue, lose thy light! Dies.-Exit Moonshine. Dem. No dic, but an ace, for him; for he is but one. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass. Hip. How chance Moonshine is gone, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. 'O Pyramus, arise, Quite dumb? Speak, speak. 'Dead, dead? A tomb Must cover thy sweet eyes. 'These lily brows, This cherry nose, 'These yellow cowslip cheeks, Come, come, to me, 'With shears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word :'Come, trusty sword; 'Come, blade, my breast imbrue; And farewell, friends; Thus, Thisby ends: Adieu, adieu, adieu.' [Dies. The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead. Dem. Ay, and Wall too. Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our company? The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had play'd Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. [Here a dance of Clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. 1 fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn, The heavy gait of night.-Sweet friends, to bed.— SCENE II-Enter Puck. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, [Exeunt. Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in wo, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team, (2) Overcome. From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic; not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow'd house t I am sent, with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door. Enter Oberon and Titania, with their Train. Obe. Through this house give glimmering light, By the dead and drowsy fire: Every elf, and fairy sprite, Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty, after me, Sing and dance it trippingly. Tita. First rehearse this song by rote: SONG, AND DANCE. Obe. Now, until the break of day, And the blots of nature's hand Shall upon their children be.- Make no stay; Puck. [Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and Train. Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. [Exit. Mereade, France. Don Adriano de Armado, a fantastical Spaniard. Jaquenetta, a country wench. Sir Nathaniel, a curate. ACT I. And, one day in a week to touch no food; And but one meal on every day beside; The which, I hope, is not enrolled there: SCENE I.-Navarre. A park, with a palace And then to sleep but three hours in the night, in it. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain. King. LET fame, that all hunt after in their lives, and And not to be seen to wink of all the day; Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And make us heirs of all eternity. Biron. I can but say their protestation over, (When I was wout to think no harm all night, I King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please; only swore, to study with your grace, And stay here in your court for three years' space. Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense; King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on, then, I will swear to study so. To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus-To study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or, study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid: Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, Study to break it, and not break my troth. If study's gain be thus, and this be so, Study knows that, which yet it doth not know: Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say, no. King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight. Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the like of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. (1) Dishonestly treacherously. Therefore this article is made in vain, Study me how to please the eye indeed, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Than those that walk, and wot not what they are. King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. Biron. The spring near, when green geese are a breeding. Fit in his place and time. Something then in rhyme. Before the birds have any cause to sing? Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;2 Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate. And, though I have for barbarism spoke more, And 'bide the penance of each three years' day. Biron. [Reads.] Item, That no woman shall Four days ago. Biron. Let's see the penalty. Long. Marry, that did I. Biron. A dangerous law against gentility. This article, my liege, yourself must break; For, well you know, here comes in embassy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak, A maid of grace, and complete majesty,About surrender-up of Aquitain To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot. Biron. So study evermore is overshot; While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost. King. We must, of force, dispense with this decree; She must lie' here on mere necessity. Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years' space : For every man with his affects is born; Not by might master'd, but by special grace: I [Subscribes. And he that breaks them in the least degree, Stands in attainder of eternal shame : Suggestions are to others, as to me; With a refined traveller of Spain; For interim to our studies, shall relate, Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight, Enter Dull, with a letter, and Costard. Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I Dull. Signior Arme-Arme-commends you.There's villany abroad; this letter will tell you more. |