The treatment of women in one or two Shakespeare plays ( Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night's Dream) Formal Outline Write a 4-page minimum (not including the reference page), formal outline of your paper. Your outline should include at least three l

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Home >Applied Sciences homework help >The treatment of women in one or two Shakespeare plays ( Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night's Dream) Formal Outline Write a 4-page minimum (not including the reference page), formal outline of your paper. Your outline should include at least three l

The Necessary

Shakespeare

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EDITORIAL ADVISORY BOARD

JANET ADELMAN University of California, Berkeley Antony and Cleopatra STEPHEN BOOTH University of California, Berkeley The Sonnets MICHAEL D. BRISTOL McGill University The Tragedy of King Richard III ALAN C. DESSEN University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill The First Part of King Henry IV MARGARET FERGUSON University of California, Davis Much Ado About Nothing CHARLES R. FORKER Indiana University The Tragedy of King Richard II CHARLES FREY University of Washington The Tempest BARRY GAINES University of New Mexico Editorial Consultant PETER D. HOLLAND University of Notre Dame Hamlet, Prince of Denmark JEAN E. HOWARD Columbia University Macbeth TREVOR HOWARD-HILL University of South Carolina Textual Consultant DAVID SCOTT KASTAN Columbia University General Consultant ARTHUR C. KIRSCH University of Virginia Measure for Measure MARY ELLEN LAMB Southern Illinois University A Midsummer Night’s Dream ALEXANDER LEGGATT University of Toronto Twelfth Night; or, What You Will SALLY-BETH MACLEAN University of Toronto London Theaters and Dramatic Companies CLAIRE McEACHERN University of California, Los Angeles The Life of King Henry V BARBARA A. MOWAT Folger Shakespeare Library The Winter’s Tale CAROL THOMAS NEELY University of Illinois, Urbana The Taming of the Shrew KAREN NEWMAN Brown University King Lear MARTIN ORKIN University of a Haifa Othello, the Moor of Venice LOIS POTTER University of Delaware Shakespeare in Performance ERIC RASMUSSEN University of Nevada, Reno Textual Consultant MEREDITH SKURA Rice University The Merchant of Venice JOHN W. VELZ University of Texas, Austin Julius Caesar PAUL WERSTINE University of Western Ontario Shakespeare Criticism and Text GEORGE WALTON WILLIAMS Duke University Romeo and Juliet LINDA WOODBRIDGE Pennsylvania State University As You Like It

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The Necessary

Shakespeare Fourth Edition

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O ne of the many astonishing achievements in A Midsummer Night’s Dream (c. 1594–1595) is its development of the motif of love as an imagi-

native journey from a world of social conflict into a fan- tasy world created by the artist, ending in a return to a reality that has itself been partly transformed by the expe- rience of the journey. As the lovers in this play flee from the Athenian law to lose themselves in the forest, they reveal and discover in themselves the simultaneously hilarious and horrifying effects of sexual desire. More- over, their journey suggests the extent to which love or desire is itself an act of imagination, not unlike the imag- ination that underlies the creation of art. The fifth act especially invites us to see theatrical experience as like a dream, at times nightmarish but at its best an emancipat- ing foray into an imagined space wholly beyond the realm of ordinary human happenings. Shakespeare gives us an earlier hint of an imaginary sylvan landscape in The Two Gentlemen of Verona, but not until A Midsummer Night’s Dream is the idea fully realized. The motif of con- trasting worlds, one of social convention and the other of visionary fantasy, will remain an enduring preoccupation of Shakespeare to the very last. This visionary world haunts the imagination with some of the most poetic pas- sages of the entire Shakespeare canon, from Titania’s evo- cation of her bond of affection with her votaress “in the spicèd Indian air by night” (2.1.123–37) to Oberon’s mem- ory of a mermaid singing on a dolphin’s back (2.1.150–4). Containing the highest percentage of rhymed verse in all of Shakespeare’s plays, A Midsummer Night’s Dream calls attention to the seemingly magical capacity of words to weave spells not only on the characters but on the audi- ence as well.

In construction, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a skill- ful interweaving of four plots involving four groups of characters: the court party of Theseus, the four young lovers, the fairies, and the “rude mechanicals” or would- be actors. Felix Mendelssohn’s incidental music for the

play evokes the contrasting textures of the various groups: Theseus’s hunting horns and ceremonial wed- ding marches, the lovers’ soaring and throbbing melodies, the fairies’ pianissimo staccato, the tradesmen’s clownish bassoon. Moreover, each plot is derived from its own set of source materials. The action involving Theseus and Hippolyta, for example, owes several details to Thomas North’s translation (1579) of Plutarch’s Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, to Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale and perhaps to his Legend of Good Women, and to Ovid’s Metamorphoses (in the Latin text or in Arthur Golding’s popular Elizabethan translation). The lovers’ story, meanwhile, is Italianate and Ovidian in tone and also, in the broadest sense, follows the conventions of plot in Plautus’s and Terence’s Roman comedies, although no particular source is known. Shakespeare’s rich fairy lore, by contrast, is part folk tradition and part learned. For some of his material he seems to have turned to written sources, such as the French romance Huon of Bordeaux (translated into English by 1540), Robert Greene’s play James IV (c. 1591), and Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene, II.i.8 (1590). Similarly, he may have taken Titania’s name from the Metamorphoses, where it is used as an epi- thet for both Diana and Circe. At the same time, in his cre- ation of Mustardseed, Cobweb, Mote, and Peaseblossom, Shakespeare also pays homage to a rich body of unwrit- ten sources that are, for the most part, no longer accessi- ble. Changeling children, mortals kidnapped by fairy queens, men transformed to beasts by evil spells: these were the stuff of oral tales circulated by firesides on win- ter nights. Finally, for Bottom the weaver and company, Shakespeare’s primary inspiration was doubtless his own theatrical experience, although even here he is indebted to Ovid for the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, and proba- bly to Apuleius’s Golden Ass (translated by William Adlington, 1566) for Bottom’s transformation.

Each of the four main plots in A Midsummer Night’s Dream contains one or more pairs of lovers whose

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

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happiness has been frustrated by misunderstanding or parental opposition. Theseus and Hippolyta, once ene- mies in battle, become husband and wife; their court mar- riage, constituting the overplot of the play, provides a framework for other dramatic actions that similarly oscil- late between conflict and harmony. In fact, Theseus’s actions are instrumental in setting in motion and finally resolving the tribulations of the other characters. In the beginning of the play, for example, the lovers flee from Theseus’s Athenian law; at the end, they are awakened by him from their dream. As the king and queen of fairies come to Athens to celebrate Theseus’s wedding, they exchange jealous accusations: Oberon accuses his queen of being overly partial to Theseus, while she is critical of Oberon’s attentions to Hippolyta. These plots of the Athenian and the fairy monarchs are drawn even more closely together by the common practice in today’s the- ater of doubling the parts of Theseus and Oberon, Hip- polyta and Titania (also, frequently, Philostrate and Puck). The broadly comic action of Bottom the Weaver and his companions is drawn into the overall design by means of their deciding to use the forest of Athens as the place where they will rehearse their performance of “Pyramus and Thisbe” in anticipation of the wedding festivities.

The tragic love story of Pyramus and Thisbe, although it seems absurdly ill suited to a wedding, reminds us of the discord and potentially fatal misunderstandings that threaten even the best of relationships between men and women. For all his graceful bearing and princely author- ity, Theseus is a conquering male who freely admits that he has won the love of Hippolyta with his sword, doing her “injuries” (1.1.17). He never questions that the accord between them should now be stated in terms of male ascendancy over the female. The Amazonian Hippolyta may accept with good grace the marriage she previously resisted with all her might, like Kate in The Taming of the Shrew, and yet, in many recent stage productions, the actress playing Hippolyta has found it easy to cast doubt on the presumed tranquility of this forthcoming marriage by a display of feminist impatience at Theseus’s urbanely patriarchal ways. The reconciliation of Oberon and Tita- nia, meanwhile, reinforces the hierarchy of male over female in no uncertain terms. Having taught Titania a les- son for trying to keep a changeling boy from him, Oberon relents and eventually frees Titania from her debasing enchantment. She does not reproach him with so much as a word when she is awakened from her “vision.” Even so, the very existence of the abundantly female space of Titania’s bower where, surrounded by her attendants, she has acted out desires that she thought were her own, poses an alternative to patriarchy. The four young lovers end up happily paired, but only after they have experi- enced rejection, rivalry, hatred, and the desire to kill; the final resolution of this plot would not be possible if Demetrius were not left under the spell of the fairy love-

juice. Thus, Theseus’s wedding provides a ceremonial occasion of harmony and reconciliation but in such a way as to highlight the difficulties that have beset the drama’s various couples.

Despite Theseus’s cheerful preoccupation with mar- riage, his court embodies at first a stern attitude toward young love. As administrator of the law, Theseus must accede to the remorseless demands of Hermia’s father, Egeus. The inflexible Athenian law sides with parentage, age, male dominance, wealth, and position against youth and romantic choice in love. The penalties are harsh: death or perpetual virginity—and virginity is presented in this comedy (despite the nobly chaste examples of Christ, St. Paul, and Queen Elizabeth) as a fate worse than death. Egeus is a familiar type, the interfering parent found in the Roman comedy of Plautus and Terence (and in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet). Indeed, the lovers’ story is distantly derived from Roman comedy, which conventionally celebrated the triumph of young love over the machinations of age and wealth. Lysander reminds us that “the course of true love never did run smooth,” and he sees its enemies as being chiefly external: the con- flicting interests of parents or friends; mismating with respect to years and blood, war, death, or sickness (1.1.134–42). This description clearly applies to “Pyramus and Thisbe,” and it is tested by the action of A Midsum- mer Night’s Dream as a whole (as well as by other early Shakespearean plays, such as Romeo and Juliet). The arche- typal story, whether ending happily or sadly, is an evo- cation of love’s difficulties in the face of social hostility and indifference.

While Shakespeare uses several elements of Roman comedy in setting up the basic conflicts of his drama, he also introduces important modifications from the begin- ning. For example, he discards one conventional con- frontation of classical and neoclassical comedy, in which the heroine must choose between an old, wealthy suitor supported by her family and the young but impecunious darling of her heart. Lysander is equal to his rival in social position, income, and attractiveness. Egeus’s demand, therefore—that Hermia marry Demetrius rather than Lysander—seems simply arbitrary and unjust. Shake- speare emphasizes in this way the irrationality of Egeus’s harsh insistence on being obeyed and of Theseus’s rather complacent acceptance of the law’s inequity. Spurned by an unfeeling social order, Lysander and Hermia are com- pelled to elope. To be sure, in the end Egeus proves to be no formidable threat; even he must admit the logic of per- mitting the lovers to couple as they ultimately desire. Thus, the obstacles to love are seen from the start as fundamen- tally superficial and indeed almost whimsical. Egeus is as heavy a villain as we are likely to find in this jeu d’esprit. Moreover, the very irrationality of his position prepares the way for an ultimate resolution of the conflict. Nevertheless, by the end of the first act, the supposedly rational world of

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conformity and duty, by its customary insensitivity to youthful happiness, has set in motion a temporary escape to a fantasy world where the law cannot reach.

In the forest, all the lovers—including Titania and Bot- tom—undergo a transforming experience engineered by the mischievous Puck. This experience demonstrates the universal power of love, which can overcome the queen of fairies as readily as the lowliest of humans. It also sug- gests the irrational nature of love and its affinity to enchantment, witchcraft, and even madness. Love is seen as an affliction taken in through the frail senses, particu- larly the eyes. When it strikes, the victim cannot choose but to embrace the object of his or her infatuation. By his amusing miscalculations, Puck shuffles the four lovers through various permutations with mathematical pre- dictability. First, two gentlemen compete for one lady, leaving the second lady sadly unrequited in love; then everything is at cross-purposes, with each gentleman pursuing the lady who is in love with the other man; then the two gentlemen compete for the lady they both previ- ously ignored. Finally, of course, Jack shall have his Jill— whom else should he have? The couples are properly united, as they evidently were at some time prior to the commencement of the play, when Demetrius had been romantically attached to Helena and Lysander to Hermia.

Their experience in the forest is an unsettling one for the four young lovers. Although some of them seek out the forest as a refuge from the Athenian law, the place rapidly takes on the darker aspect of a nightmare. Her- mia awakens from sleep to find Lysander gone and soon discovers that her dream of a serpent eating her heart away while Lysander watches smiling (2.2.155–6) is all too prophetically true. The forest is a place of testing of the lovers, and the test appears at first to show how they are all their own worst enemies. Helena, having been rejected by Demetrius, can only suppose that she is being mocked, with Lysander and Demetrius both paying court to her. Next, it occurs to her that Hermia must be part of their conspiracy, too. Even though Hermia and Helena recall to each other the selfless devotion they have known as young friends, they become hated rivals in their pre- sent mood of self-pity and injured self-regard. The thresh- old of sexual awakening, it would seem, confronts them with a hazardous rite of passage—one that is especially threatening to the nonsexual friendship of their adoles- cent years. The two young men respond to similar con- flicts by turning on one another in characteristically aggressive male ways. Puck allows them to playact their intended mayhem in a way that cannot harm them and then brings all four lovers together where they can awaken from their nightmare of imagined persecution. How much do they remember? Have they been changed by their journey in the forest? The lovers convey a sense of confusion, of an unreconciled dissonance of perspec- tive in which “everything seems double” (4.1.189). As the

lovers return to the daylight world of Athens and the court, their experiences assume the unreality of a remem- bered dream, like “far-off mountains turnèd into clouds” (4.1.187). When they thus awaken and return to the day- light world of Athens and the court, their renewed love and friendship are presumably deepened by their per- ception of how narrowly they have escaped from their own self-destructive imaginings. Their new happiness, they see, is better than they have deserved.

We sense that Puck is by no means unhappy about his knavish errors and manipulations: “Lord, what fools these mortals be!” (3.2.115). Along with the other fairies in this play, Puck takes his being and his complex moti- vation from many denizens of the invisible world. As the agent of all-powerful love, Puck compares himself to Cupid. The love juice he administers comes from Cupid’s flower, “love-in-idleness.” Like Cupid, Puck acts at the behest of the gods, and yet he wields a power that the chiefest of the gods themselves cannot resist. Essentially, however, Puck is less a classical love deity than a prank- ish folk spirit, such as we find in every folklore: gremlin, leprechaun, hobgoblin, and the like. Titania’s fairies rec- ognize Puck as the folk figure Robin Goodfellow, able to deprive a beer barrel of its yeast so that it spoils rather than ferments. Puck characterizes himself as a practical joker, pulling stools out from under old ladies.

Folk wisdom imagines the inexplicable and unac- countable events in life to be caused by invisible spirits who laugh at mortals’ discomfiture and mock them for mere sport. Puck is related to these mysterious spirits dwelling in nature, who must be placated with gifts and ceremonies. Although Shakespeare restricts Puck to a benign sportive role in dealing with the lovers or with Titania, the actual folk legends about Puck mentioned in this play are frequently disquieting. Puck is known to “mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm” (2.1.39); indeed, he demonstrates as much with Demetrius and Lysander, leading them on through the forest to the point of exhaustion, even though we perceive the sport- ful intent. At the play’s end, Puck links himself and his fel- lows with the ghoulish apparitions of death and night: wolves howling at the moon, screech owls, shrouds, gap- ing graves. Associations of this sort go beyond mere sportiveness to the witchcraft and demonology involving spirits rising from the dead. Even Oberon’s assurance that the fairies will bless all the marriages of this play, shield- ing their progeny against mole, harelip, or other birth defects, carries the implication that such misfortunes can be caused by offended spirits. The magic of this play is thus explicitly related to deep irrational powers and forces capable of doing great harm, although, to be sure, the spirit of comedy keeps such veiled threats safely at a dis- tance in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Oberon and Titania, in their view of the relationship between gods and humans, reflect yet another aspect of

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the fairies’ spiritual ancestry. The king and queen of fairies assert that, because they are immortal, their regal quarrels in love must inevitably have dire consequences on earth, either in the love relationship of Theseus and Hippolyta or in the management of the weather. Floods, storms, diseases, and sterility abound, “And this same progeny of evils comes / From our debate, from our dis- sension. / We are their parents and original” (2.1.115–17). This motif of the gods’ quarreling over human affairs reminds us of Homer and Virgil. At the same time, in this lighthearted play the motif is more nearly mock-epic than truly epic. The consequences of the gods’ anger are sim- ply mirth-provoking, most of all in Titania’s love affair with Bottom the weaver.

The story of Bottom and Titania is simultaneously clas- sical and folk in nature. In a playfully classical mode, this love affair between a god and an earthy creature under- scores humanity’s double nature. Bottom himself becomes half man and half beast, even if he is more ludicrously comic than the centaurs, satyrs, griffins, sphinxes, and other amphibious beings of classical mythology. Some bal- lads of the early modern period tell of humans trans- formed into beasts, or of mortals kidnapped by a fairy queen; see, for example, “Tam Lin” and “Thomas Rhymer.” Bottom is an especially comic example of meta- morphosis because he reverses the usual pattern of a human head and an animal body: instead, his head is ani- mal, his body human. His very name suggests the solid nature of his fleshly being (bottom is appropriately also a weaving term). He and Titania represent the opposites of flesh and spirit, miraculously yoked for a time in a twofold vision of humankind’s absurd and ethereal nature.

A play bringing together fairies and mortals inevitably raises questions of illusion and reality. These questions reach their greatest intensity in the presentation of “Pyra- mus and Thisbe.” This play within a play focuses our attention on the familiarly Shakespearean metaphor of art as illusion and of the world itself as a stage on which men and women are merely players. As Theseus observes, apologizing for the ineptness of the tradesmen’s perfor- mance, “the best in this kind are but shadows” (5.1.210); that is, Shakespeare’s own play is of the same order of reality as Bottom’s play. Puck too, in his epilogue, invites any spectator offended by Shakespeare’s play to dismiss it as a mere dream—as, indeed, the play’s very title sug- gests. Theseus goes even further, linking dream to the essence of imaginative art, although he does so in a clearly critical and rather patronizing way. The artist, he says, is like the maniac or the lover in his or her frenzy of inspiration, giving “to airy nothing / A local habitation and a name” (5.1.16–17). Artistic achievements are too unsubstantial for Theseus; from his point of view they are the products of mere fantasy and irrationality, mere myths or fairy stories or old wives’ tales. Behind this crit- ical persona defending the “real” world of his court, how-

ever, we can hear Shakespeare’s characteristically self- effacing defense of “dreaming.”

“Pyramus and Thisbe,” like the larger play surround- ing it, attempts to body forth “the forms of things unknown.” The play within the play gives us personified moonshine, a speaking wall, and an apologetic lion. Of course, it is an absurdly bad play, full of lame epithets, bombastic alliteration, and bathos. In part, Shakespeare here is satirizing the abuses of a theater he had helped reform. The players’ chosen method of portraying imag- inative matters is ridiculous and calls forth deliciously wry comments from the courtly spectators on stage: “Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?” (5.1.164–5). At the same time, those spectators on stage are actors in our play. Their sarcasms render them less sympathetic in our eyes; we see that their kind of sophis- tication is as restrictive as it is illuminating. Bottom and his friends have conceived moonshine and lion as they did because these simple men are so responsive to the ter- rifying power of art. A lion might frighten the ladies and get the men hanged. Theirs is a primitive faith, naive but strong, and in this sense it contrasts favorably with the jaded rationality of the court party. Theseus’s valuable reminder that all art is only “illusion” is thus juxtaposed with Bottom’s insistence that imaginative art has a real- ity of its own.

Theseus above all embodies the sophistication of the court in his description of art as a frenzy of seething brains. Ironically, Theseus’s genial scoffing at “These antique fables” and “these fairy toys” (5.1.3) would seem to efface his own identity as the figure of legend. Limited by his own skepticism, Theseus seems to have forgotten his own forest wanderings, led by Titania through the “glimmering night” (2.1.77). Bottom, contrastingly, has experienced “a most rare vision,” such a dream as is “past the wit of man to say what dream it was” (4.1.203–5). He alone can claim to have been the lover of the queen of fairies; and, although his language cannot adequately describe the experience, Bottom will see it made into a ballad called “Bottom’s Dream.” Shakespeare leaves the status of his fantasy world deliberately complex; The- seus’s lofty denial of dreaming is too abrupt. Even if the Athenian forest world can be made only momentarily substantial in the artifact of Shakespeare’s play, we as audience respond to its tantalizing vision. We emerge back into our lives wondering if the fairies were “real”; that is, we are puzzled by the relationship of these artis- tic symbols to the tangible concreteness of our daily exis- tence. Unless our perceptions have been thus enlarged by sharing in the author’s dream, we have not surrendered to the imaginative experience.

Recent performances of this enduringly popular play suggest how open it is to varying interpretation and espe- cially to postmodern views of love and politics as thor- oughly unsettling in their irrationality. Nineteenth-century

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staging generally preferred to see the play as a gos- samer delight of diminutive gilded-winged fairies and prankish hobgoblins, all underscored by the romantic strains of Mendelssohn’s incidental music. More recently, and especially after World War II, theater and film versions have responded to a darker view. Inspired by Jan Kott’s Shakespeare Our Contemporary (1964), a book written from the perspective of Soviet- dominated eastern Europe of the Cold War, Peter Brook’s brilliantly revisionary stage version for the Royal Shakespeare Theater in 1970 set the play in a brightly lit white box peopled with jugglers and ath- letic trapeze artists who tumbled and dashed about after one another with abandon. A fisted arm thrust between the legs of Bottom the Weaver as he was car- ried off stage from his rendezvous with Queen Titania suggested a triumphant phallus.

Brook’s avowed aim of freeing the play from what he saw as an oppressive tradition has proved to be immensely influential. Ever since, the young lovers have learned to express their sexual energies through vigorous

pursuit and physical contact. Feminist insights have enriched the role of Queen Hippolyta: formerly a captive queen resigned to her marriage to Theseus, she has become in many productions a champion of Hermia’s right to resist her father’s patriarchal insistence on his will. Puck, in many a recent production, is the denizen of a drug culture, with the love potion as the weed he glee- fully distributes. The experience of the forest becomes a drug-induced “high,” for audiences as for the actors. The fairies, sometimes played by adult and hairy males, can exhibit a steak of cruelty. The doubling of some central roles, notably Theseus/Oberon, Hippolyta/Titania, and Philostrate/Puck, has given ironic emphasis to parallels between human society and fairyland. Throughout, mod- ern productions have tended to exploit disenchantment with traditional social structures and the surging energy of sexual self-discovery. These modern interpretations are arguably neither more nor less “true” to Shakespeare’s text than earlier or more “traditional” versions. What they do demonstrate is the play’s remarkable permeability and openness to differing views.

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[Dramatis Personae

T H E S E U S , Duke of Athens

H I P P O LY TA , Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus P H I L O S T R AT E , Master of the Revels E G E U S , father of Hermia

H E R M I A , daughter of Egeus, in love with Lysander LY S A N D E R , in love with Hermia D E M E T R I U S , in love with Hermia and favored

by Egeus H E L E N A , in love with Demetrius

O B E R O N , King of the Fairies T I TA N I A , Queen of the Fairies P U C K , or ROBIN GOODFELLOW

S C E N E : Athens, and a wood near it]

P E A S E B L O S S O M , C O B W E B , M O T E , M U S TA R D S E E D , Other FA I R I E S attending

P E T E R Q U I N C E , a carpenter, PROLOGUE N I C K B O T T O M , a weaver, PYRAMUS F R A N C I S F L U T E , a bellows

mender, THISBE T O M S N O U T , a tinker, WALL S N U G , a joiner, LION R O B I N S TA RV E L I N G , a tailor, MOONSHINE

Lords and Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta

repre- senting

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1–41 • 42–87 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 1.1 47

[1.1] Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, [and Philostrate,] with others.

T H E S E U S

Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in Another moon; but, oh, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame or a dowager Long withering out a young man’s revenue.

H I P P O LY TA

Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow New bent in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities.

T H E S E U S Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments. Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth. Turn melancholy forth to funerals; The pale companion is not for our pomp.

[Exit Philostrate.] Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword And won thy love doing thee injuries; But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling.

Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, and Lysander, and Demetrius.

E G E U S

Happy be Theseus, our renownèd duke! T H E S E U S

Thanks, good Egeus. What’s the news with thee? E G E U S

Full of vexation come I, with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia.— Stand forth, Demetrius.—My noble lord, This man hath my consent to marry her.— Stand forth, Lysander.—And, my gracious Duke, This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child.— Thou, thou Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes And interchanged love tokens with my child. Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung With feigning voice verses of feigning love, And stol’n the impression of her fantasy With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits,

Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats—messengers Of strong prevailment in unhardened youth. With cunning hast thou filched my daughter’s heart, Turned her obedience, which is due to me, To stubborn harshness. And, my gracious Duke, Be it so she will not here before Your Grace Consent to marry with Demetrius, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens: As she is mine, I may dispose of her, Which shall be either to this gentleman Or to her death, according to our law Immediately provided in that case.

T H E S E U S

What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair maid. To you your father should be as a god— One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it. Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.

H E R M I A

So is Lysander. T H E S E U S In himself he is;

But in this kind, wanting your father’s voice, The other must be held the worthier.

H E R M I A

I would my father looked but with my eyes. T H E S E U S

Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. H E R M I A

I do entreat Your Grace to pardon me. I know not by what power I am made bold, Nor how it may concern my modesty In such a presence here to plead my thoughts; But I beseech Your Grace that I may know The worst that may befall me in this case If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

T H E S E U S

Either to die the death or to abjure Forever the society of men. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father’s choice, You can endure the livery of a nun, For aye to be in shady cloister mewed, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice blessèd they that master so their blood To undergo such maiden pilgrimage; But earthlier happy is the rose distilled Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

1.1. Location: Athens. Theseus’s court. 4 lingers frustrates 5 stepdame stepmother. a dowager i.e., a widow (whose right of inheritance from her dead husband is eating into her son’s estate) 6 withering out causing to dwindle 7 Four . . . night (The image is of the day sinking into the ocean as night comes on.) 11 solemnities festive ceremonies of marriage. 15 companion fellow. (A pale complexion is linked to melancholy.) pomp ceremonial magnificence. 16 with my sword i.e., in a military engagement against the Amazons, when Hippolyta was taken captive 19 triumph public festivity 31 feigning (1) counterfeiting (2) faining, desirous 32 And . . . fantasy and made her fall in love with you (imprinting your image on her imagination) by stealthy and dishonest means 33 gauds, conceits playthings, fanciful trifles

34 Knacks . . . sweetmeats knicknacks, trinkets, bouquets, candies 35 prevailment in influence on 39 Be it so if 45 Immediately directly, with nothing intervening 51 leave i.e., leave unaltered 54 kind respect. wanting lacking. voice approval 65 die the death be executed by legal process 68 blood passions 70 livery habit, costume 71 aye ever. mewed shut in. (Said of a hawk, poul- try, etc.) 76 earthlier happy happier as respects this world. distilled i.e., to make perfume

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48 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 1.1 88–132 • 133–170

H E R M I A

So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, Ere I will yield my virgin patent up Unto His Lordship, whose unwishèd yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

T H E S E U S

Take time to pause, and by the next new moon— The sealing day betwixt my love and me For everlasting bond of fellowship— Upon that day either prepare to die For disobedience to your father’s will, Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would, Or on Diana’s altar to protest For aye austerity and single life.

D E M E T R I U S

Relent, sweet Hermia, and, Lysander, yield Thy crazèd title to my certain right.

LY S A N D E R

You have her father’s love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia’s. Do you marry him.

E G E U S

Scornful Lysander! True, he hath my love, And what is mine my love shall render him. And she is mine, and all my right of her I do estate unto Demetrius.

LY S A N D E R

I am, my lord, as well derived as he, As well possessed; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly ranked, If not with vantage, as Demetrius’; And, which is more than all these boasts can be, I am beloved of beauteous Hermia. Why should not I then prosecute my right? Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head, Made love to Nedar’s daughter, Helena, And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes, Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

T H E S E U S

I must confess that I have heard so much, And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof; But, being overfull of self-affairs, My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come, And come, Egeus, you shall go with me; I have some private schooling for you both. For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself To fit your fancies to your father’s will, Or else the law of Athens yields you up— Which by no means we may extenuate— To death or to a vow of single life. Come, my Hippolyta. What cheer, my love? Demetrius and Egeus, go along.

I must employ you in some business Against our nuptial, and confer with you Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

E G E U S

With duty and desire we follow you. Exeunt [all but Lysander and Hermia].

LY S A N D E R

How now, my love, why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

H E R M I A

Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

LY S A N D E R

Ay me! For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth; But either it was different in blood—

H E R M I A

Oh, cross! Too high to be enthralled to low. LY S A N D E R

Or else misgrafted in respect of years— H E R M I A

Oh, spite! Too old to be engaged to young. LY S A N D E R

Or else it stood upon the choice of friends— H E R M I A

Oh, hell, to choose love by another’s eyes! LY S A N D E R

Or if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentany as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say “Behold!” The jaws of darkness do devour it up. So quick bright things come to confusion.

H E R M I A

If then true lovers have been ever crossed, It stands as an edict in destiny. Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy’s followers.

LY S A N D E R

A good persuasion. Therefore, hear me, Hermia: I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child. From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; And she respects me as her only son.

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80 patent privilege 89 protest vow 92 crazèd cracked, unsound 98 estate unto settle or bestow upon 99 as well derived as well born and descended 100 possessed endowed with wealth 101 fairly handsomely 102 vantage superiority 106 head i.e., face 110 spot- ted i.e., morally stained 113 self-affairs my own concerns 116 schooling admonition 117 look you arm take care you prepare 118 fancies likings, thoughts of love 120 extenuate mitigate, relax 123 go i.e., come

125 Against in preparation for 126 nearly that that closely 130 Belike Very likely 131 Beteem grant, afford 135 blood heredi- tary rank 136 cross vexation. 137 misgrafted ill grafted, badly matched 139 friends relatives 141 sympathy agreement 143 momentany lasting but a moment 145 collied blackened (as with coal dust), darkened 146 in a spleen in a swift impulse, in a violent flash. unfolds reveals 149 confusion ruin. 150 ever crossed always thwarted 152 teach . . . patience i.e., teach ourselves patience in this trial 155 fancy’s amorous passion’s 156 persua- sion doctrine. 159 seven leagues about 21 miles 160 respects regards

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171–209 • 210–249 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 1.1 49

There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee, And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me, then, Steal forth thy father’s house tomorrow night; And in the wood, a league without the town, Where I did meet thee once with Helena To do observance to a morn of May, There will I stay for thee.

H E R M I A My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid’s strongest bow, By his best arrow with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus’ doves, By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen When the false Trojan under sail was seen, By all the vows that ever men have broke, In number more than ever women spoke, In that same place thou hast appointed me Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.

LY S A N D E R

Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.

Enter Helena.

H E R M I A

God speed, fair Helena! Whither away? H E L E N A

Call you me fair? That “fair” again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair. Oh, happy fair! Your eyes are lodestars, and your tongue’s sweet air More tunable than lark to shepherd’s ear When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Sickness is catching. Oh, were favor so, Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, My tongue should catch your tongue’s sweet melody. Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, The rest I’d give to be to you translated. Oh, teach me how you look and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius’ heart.

H E R M I A

I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. H E L E N A

Oh, that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

H E R M I A

I give him curses, yet he gives me love.

H E L E N A

Oh, that my prayers could such affection move! H E R M I A

The more I hate, the more he follows me. H E L E N A

The more I love, the more he hateth me. H E R M I A

His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. H E L E N A

None, but your beauty. Would that fault were mine! H E R M I A

Take comfort. He no more shall see my face. Lysander and myself will fly this place. Before the time I did Lysander see Seemed Athens as a paradise to me. Oh, then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell?

LY S A N D E R

Helen, to you our minds we will unfold. Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the watery glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, A time that lovers’ flights doth still conceal, Through Athens’ gates have we devised to steal.

H E R M I A

And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet, There my Lysander and myself shall meet, And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight From lovers’ food till morrow deep midnight.

LY S A N D E R

I will, my Hermia. Exit Hermia. Helena, adieu!

As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! Exit Lysander.

H E L E N A

How happy some o’er other some can be! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; He will not know what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hermia’s eyes, So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.165 without outside 167 To do . . . May to perform the ceremonies

of May Day 170 best arrow (Cupid’s best gold-pointed arrows were supposed to induce love; his blunt leaden arrows, aversion.) 171 simplicity innocence. doves i.e., those that drew Venus’s chariot 173, 174 Carthage queen, false Trojan (Dido, Queen of Carthage, immolated herself on a funeral pyre after having been deserted by the Trojan hero Aeneas.) 180 fair fair-complexioned. (Generally regarded by the Elizabethans as more beautiful than a dark complex- ion.) 182 your fair your beauty (even though Hermia is dark com- plexioned). happy fair lucky fair one. 183 lodestars guiding stars. air music 184 tunable tuneful, melodious 186 favor appearance, looks 190 bated excepted 191 translated transformed. 193 sway the motion control the impulses

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50 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 1.1 250–297 • 297–346

Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste. And therefore is Love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled. As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, So the boy Love is perjured everywhere. For ere Demetrius looked on Hermia’s eyne, He hailed down oaths that he was only mine; And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt. I will go tell him of fair Hermia’s flight. Then to the wood will he tomorrow night Pursue her; and for this intelligence If I have thanks, it is a dear expense. But herein mean I to enrich my pain, To have his sight thither and back again. Exit.

✤

[1.2] Enter Quince the carpenter, and Snug the joiner, and Bottom the weaver, and Flute the bellows mender, and Snout the tinker, and Starveling the tailor.

Q U I N C E Is all our company here? B O T T O M You were best to call them generally, man by

man, according to the scrip. Q U I N C E Here is the scroll of every man’s name which

is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our inter- lude before the Duke and the Duchess on his wedding day at night.

B O T T O M First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.

Q U I N C E Marry, our play is “The most lamentable com- edy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe.”

B O T T O M A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.

Q U I N C E Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. B O T T O M Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. Q U I N C E You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. B O T T O M What is Pyramus? A lover or a tyrant? Q U I N C E A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love. B O T T O M That will ask some tears in the true performing

of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes. I will move storms; I will condole in some measure. To the rest—yet my chief humor is for a tyrant. I could play

Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. “The raging rocks And shivering shocks Shall break the locks

Of prison gates; And Phibbus’ car Shall shine from far And make and mar

The foolish Fates.” This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles’ vein, a tyrant’s vein. A lover is more condoling.

Q U I N C E Francis Flute, the bellows mender. F L U T E Here, Peter Quince. Q U I N C E Flute, you must take Thisbe on you. F L U T E What is Thisbe? A wandering knight? Q U I N C E It is the lady that Pyramus must love. F L U T E Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a

beard coming. Q U I N C E That’s all one. You shall play it in a mask, and

you may speak as small as you will. B O T T O M An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too.

I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice: “Thisne, Thisne!” “Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear!”

Q U I N C E No, no, you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisbe.

B O T T O M Well, proceed. Q U I N C E Robin Starveling, the tailor. S TA RV E L I N G Here, Peter Quince. Q U I N C E Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe’s

mother. Tom Snout, the tinker. S N O U T Here, Peter Quince. Q U I N C E You, Pyramus’ father; myself, Thisbe’s father;

Snug, the joiner, you, the lion’s part; and I hope here is a play fitted.

S N U G Have you the lion’s part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

Q U I N C E You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

B O T T O M 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 say, “Let him roar again, let him roar again.”

Q U I N C E An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all.

A L L That would hang us, every mother’s son. B O T T O M I grant you, friends, if you should fright the

ladies out of their wits, they would have no more dis- cretion but to hang us; but I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an ‘twere any nightingale.

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76 236 Nor . . . taste i.e., Nor has Love, which dwells in the fancy or imagination, any least bit of judgment or reason 237 figure signify 239 in choice in choosing. beguiled self-deluded, making unac- countable choices. 240 waggish playful, mischievous. game sport, jest 242 eyne eyes. (Old form of plural.) 248 intelligence informa- tion 249 a dear expense i.e., a trouble worth taking on my part. 1.2. Location: Athens. 2 generally (Bottom’s blunder for “individually.”) 3 scrip script. 5–6 interlude play 10 grow to come to 11 Marry (A mild oath; originally the name of the Virgin Mary.) 16 Bottom (As a weaver’s term, a bottom was an object around which thread was wound.) 23 condole lament, arouse pity 24 humor inclination

25 Ercles Hercules. (The tradition of ranting came from Seneca’s Hercules Furens.) tear a cat i.e., rant. make all split i.e., cause a stir, bring the house down. 30 Phibbus’ car Phoebus’s, the sun god’s, chariot 43 That’s all one It makes no difference. 44 small high- pitched 45 An If. (Also at line 68.) 74 aggravate (Bottom’s blunder for “moderate.”) 75 roar you i.e., roar for you. sucking dove (Bot- tom conflates sitting dove and sucking lamb, two proverbial images of innocence.) 76 an ‘twere as if it were

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347–381 • 382–422 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 2.1 51

Q U I N C E You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyra- mus is a sweet-faced man, a proper man as one shall see in a summer’s day, a most lovely gentlemanlike man. Therefore you must needs play Pyramus.

B O T T O M Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in?

Q U I N C E Why, what you will. B O T T O M I will discharge it in either your straw-color

beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color beard, your perfect yellow.

Q U I N C E Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play barefaced. But, masters, here are your parts. [He distributes parts.] And I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you to con them by tomorrow night, and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight. There will we rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. In the mean- time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not.

B O T T O M We will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfect. Adieu.

Q U I N C E At the Duke’s oak we meet. B O T T O M Enough. Hold, or cut bowstrings. Exeunt.

✤

[2.1] Enter a Fairy at one door, and Robin Goodfellow [Puck] at another.

P U C K

How now, spirit, whither wander you? FA I R Y

Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be. In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favors; In those freckles live their savors.

I must go seek some dewdrops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I’ll be gone. Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.

P U C K

The King doth keep his revels here tonight. Take heed the Queen come not within his sight. For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, Because that she as her attendant hath A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king; She never had so sweet a changeling. And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. But she perforce withholds the lovèd boy, Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy. And now they never meet in grove or green, By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen, But they do square, that all their elves for fear Creep into acorn cups and hide them there.

FA I R Y

Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Called Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he That frights the maidens of the villagery, Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern, And bootless make the breathless huswife churn, And sometimes make the drink to bear no barm, Mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm? Those that “Hobgoblin” call you, and “Sweet Puck,” You do their work, and they shall have good luck. Are you not he?

P U C K Thou speakest aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon and make him smile When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal; And sometimes lurk I in a gossip’s bowl In very likeness of a roasted crab, And when she drinks, against her lips I bob And on her withered dewlap pour the ale. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,

78 proper handsome 84 discharge perform. your i.e., you know the kind I mean 85 purple-in-grain dyed a very deep red. (From grain, the name applied to the dried insect used to make the dye.) 86 French-crown-color i.e., color of a French crown, a gold coin 88 crowns heads bald from syphilis, the “French disease” 91 con memorize 95 devices plans 96 draw a bill draw up a list 99 obscenely (An unintentionally funny blunder, whatever Bottom meant to say.) perfect i.e., letter-perfect in memorizing your parts. 102 Hold . . . bowstrings (An archers’ expression, not definitely explained, but probably meaning here “keep your promises, or give up the play.”) 2.1. Location: A wood near Athens. 3 Thorough through 4 pale enclosure 7 sphere orbit 9 dew sprinkle with dew. orbs circles, i.e., fairy rings (circular bands of grass, darker than the surrounding area, caused by fungi enriching the soil) 10 pensioners retainers, members of the royal bodyguard

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12 favors love tokens 13 savors sweet smells. 16 lob country bumpkin 17 anon at once. 20 passing fell exceedingly angry. wrath wrathful 23 changeling child exchanged for another by the fairies. 25 trace range through 26 perforce forcibly 29 fountain spring. starlight sheen shining starlight 30 square quarrel 33 shrewd mischievous. sprite spirit 35 villagery village popula- tion 36 Skim milk i.e., steal the cream. quern hand mill (where Puck presumably hampers the grinding of grain) 37 bootless in vain. (Puck prevents the cream from turning to butter.) huswife housewife 38 barm head on the ale. (Puck prevents the barm or yeast from producing fermentation.) 39 Mislead night wanderers i.e., mislead with false fire those who walk abroad at night (hence earning Puck his other names of Jack o’ Lantern and Will o’ the Wisp) 40 Those . . . Puck i.e., Those who call you by the names you favor rather than those denoting the mischief you do 45 bean-fed full of beans 46 a filly foal a mare (in heat) 47 gossip’s old woman’s 48 crab crab apple 50 dewlap loose skin on neck 51 aunt old woman. saddest most serious

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52 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 2.1 423–458 • 459–499

Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And “Tailor” cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole choir hold their hips and laugh, And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there. But, room, fairy! Here comes Oberon.

FA I R Y

And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!

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

O B E R O N

Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. T I TA N I A

What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence. I have forsworn his bed and company.

O B E R O N

Tarry, rash wanton. Am not I thy lord? T I TA N I A

Then I must be thy lady; but I know When thou hast stolen away from Fairyland And in the shape of Corin sat all day, Playing on pipes of corn and versing love To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here Come from the farthest step of India, But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskined mistress and your warrior love, To Theseus must be wedded, and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity.

O B E R O N

How canst thou thus for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering night From Perigenia, whom he ravishèd? And make him with fair Aegles break his faith, With Ariadne and Antiopa?

T I TA N I A

These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer’s spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,

By pavèd fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beachèd margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have sucked up from the sea Contagious fogs which, falling in the land, Hath every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretched his yoke in vain, The plowman lost his sweat, and the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard; The fold stands empty in the drownèd field, And crows are fatted with the murrain flock; The nine-men’s morris is filled up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green For lack of tread are undistinguishable. The human mortals want their winter here; No night is now with hymn or carol blessed. Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound. And thorough this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazèd world By their increase now knows not which is which. And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension. We are their parents and original.

O B E R O N

Do you amend it, then. It lies in you. Why should Titania cross her Oberon? I do but beg a little changeling boy To be my henchman.

T I TA N I A Set your heart at rest. The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a vot’ress of my order,

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84 pavèd with pebbled bottom. rushy bordered with rushes 85 in on. margent edge, border 86 ringlets dances in a ring. (See orbs in line 9.) to to the sound of 90 Contagious noxious 91 pelting pal- try 92 continents banks that contain them. 93 stretched his yoke i.e., pulled at his yoke in plowing 94 corn grain of any kind 96 fold pen for sheep or cattle 97 murrain having died of the plague 98 nine-men’s morris i.e., portion of the village green marked out in a square for a game played with nine pebbles or pegs 99 quaint mazes i.e., intricate paths marked out on the village green to be fol- lowed rapidly on foot as a kind of contest. wanton luxuriant 101 want lack. winter i.e., regular winter season; or, proper obser- vances of winter, such as the hymn or carol in the next line (?) 103 Therefore i.e., As a result of our quarrel 104 washes saturates with moisture 105 rheumatic diseases colds, flu, and other respira- tory infections 106 distemperature disturbance in nature 109 Hiems’ the winter god’s 112 childing fruitful, pregnant 113 wonted liveries usual apparel. mazèd bewildered 114 their increase the increasing pace of change; or, their produce 116 debate quarrel 117 original origin. 121 henchman attendant, page. 123 was . . . order had taken a vow to serve me

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And in the spicèd Indian air by night Full often hath she gossiped by my side And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands, Marking th’embarkèd traders on the flood, When we have laughed to see the sails conceive And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait, Following—her womb then rich with my young

squire— Would imitate, and sail upon the land To fetch me trifles, and return again As from a voyage, rich with merchandise. But she, being mortal, of that boy did die; And for her sake do I rear up her boy, And for her sake I will not part with him.

O B E R O N

How long within this wood intend you stay? T I TA N I A

Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding day. If you will patiently dance in our round And see our moonlight revels, go with us; If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.

O B E R O N

Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. T I TA N I A

Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away! We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.

Exeunt [Titania with her train]. O B E R O N

Well, go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove Till I torment thee for this injury. My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb’rest Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres To hear the sea-maid’s music?

P U C K I remember. O B E R O N

That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, Flying between the cold moon and the earth Cupid, all armed. A certain aim he took At a fair vestal thronèd by the west, And loosed his love shaft smartly from his bow As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts; But I might see young Cupid’s fiery shaft Quenched in the chaste beams of the wat’ry moon, And the imperial vot’ress passèd on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell:

It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower; the herb I showed thee once. The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees. Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again Ere the leviathan can swim a league.

P U C K

I’ll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes. [Exit.]

O B E R O N Having once this juice, I’ll watch Titania when she is asleep And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon, Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape, She shall pursue it with the soul of love. And ere I take this charm from off her sight, As I can take it with another herb, I’ll make her render up her page to me. But who comes here? I am invisible, And I will overhear their conference.

[He stands aside.]

Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.

D E M E T R I U S

I love thee not; therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? The one I’ll slay; the other slayeth me. Thou told’st me they were stol’n unto this wood; And here am I, and wood within this wood Because I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.

H E L E N A

You draw me, you hardhearted adamant! But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.

D E M E T R I U S

Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Or rather do I not in plainest truth Tell you I do not nor I cannot love you?

H E L E N A

And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me I will fawn on you. Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love— And yet a place of high respect with me— Than to be usèd as you use your dog?

127 traders trading vessels. flood flood tide 129 wanton (1) play- ful (2) amorous 130 swimming smooth, gliding 140 round circular dance 142 spare shun 146 from go from 149 Since when 151 dulcet sweet. breath voice, song 152 rude rough 157 all fully. certain sure 158 vestal vestal virgin. (Contains a complimen- tary allusion to Queen Elizabeth as a votaress of Diana and probably refers to an actual entertainment in her honor at Elvetham in 1591.) by in the region of 159 loosed released 160 As as if 161 might could 164 fancy-free free of love’s spell. 165 bolt arrow

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54 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 2.1 590–627 • 628–663

D E M E T R I U S

Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit, For I am sick when I do look on thee.

H E L E N A

And I am sick when I look not on you. D E M E T R I U S

You do impeach your modesty too much To leave the city and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not, To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity.

H E L E N A

Your virtue is my privilege. For that It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone When all the world is here to look on me?

D E M E T R I U S

I’ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.

H E L E N A

The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will. The story shall be changed: Apollo flies and Daphne holds the chase, The dove pursues the griffin, the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger—bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valor flies!

D E M E T R I U S

I will not stay thy questions. Let me go! Or if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

H E L E N A

Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex. We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be wooed and were not made to woo.

[Exit Demetrius.] I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. [Exit.]

O B E R O N

Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.

Enter Puck.

Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.

P U C K

Ay, there it is. [He offers the flower.] O B E R O N I pray thee, give it me.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite overcanopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet muskroses and with eglantine. There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enameled skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes And make her full of hateful fantasies. Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove.

[He gives some love juice.] A sweet Athenian lady is in love With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes, But do it when the next thing he espies May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove More fond on her than she upon her love; And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

P U C K

Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so. Exeunt [separately].

✤

[2.2] Enter Titania, Queen of Fairies, with her train.

T I TA N I A

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; Then, for the third part of a minute, hence— Some to kill cankers in the muskrose buds, Some war with reremice for their leathern wings To make my small elves coats, and some keep back The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep. Then to your offices, and let me rest.

Fairies sing.

F I R S T FA I R Y

You spotted snakes with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;

Newts and blindworms, do no wrong; Come not near our Fairy Queen.

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214 impeach call into question 215 To leave by leaving 218 desert deserted 220 privilege safeguard, warrant. For that Because 224 in my respect as far as I am concerned, in my esteem 227 brakes thickets 231 Apollo . . . chase (In the ancient myth, Daphne fled from Apollo and was saved from rape by being trans- formed into a laurel tree; here it is the female who holds the chase, or pursues, instead of the male.) 232 griffin a fabulous monster with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. hind female deer 233 bootless fruitless 235 stay wait for, put up with. questions talk or argument. 240 Your . . . sex i.e., The wrongs that you do me cause me to act in a manner that disgraces my sex. 244 upon by

249 blows blooms 250 oxlips flowers resembling cowslip and prim- rose 251 woodbine honeysuckle 252 muskroses a kind of large, sweet-scented rose. eglantine sweetbrier, another kind of rose. 253 sometime of for part of 255 throws sloughs off, sheds 256 Weed garment 257 streak anoint, touch gently 266 fond on doting on 2.2. Location: The wood. 1 roundel dance in a ring 3 cankers cankerworms (i.e., caterpillars or grubs) 4 reremice bats 7 quaint dainty 9 double forked 11 Newts water lizards. (Considered poisonous, as were blindworms— small snakes with tiny eyes—and spiders.)

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C H O R U S [dancing] Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby. Never harm Nor spell nor charm

Come our lovely lady nigh. So good night, with lullaby.

F I R S T FA I R Y

Weaving spiders, come not here; Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!

Beetles black, approach not near; Worm nor snail, do no offense.

C H O R U S [dancing] Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby. Never harm Nor spell nor charm

Come our lovely lady nigh. So good night, with lullaby. [Titania sleeps.]

S E C O N D FA I R Y

Hence, away! Now all is well. One aloof stand sentinel.

[Exeunt Fairies, leaving one sentinel.]

Enter Oberon [and squeezes the flower on Titania’s eyelids].

O B E R O N

What thou see’st when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true love take; Love and languish for his sake. Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear When thou wak’st, it is thy dear. Wake when some vile thing is near. [Exit.]

Enter Lysander and Hermia.

LY S A N D E R

Fair love, you faint with wand’ring in the wood; And to speak truth, I have forgot our way.

We’ll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day.

H E R M I A

Be it so, Lysander. Find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head.

LY S A N D E R

One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

H E R M I A

Nay, good Lysander, for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet. Do not lie so near.

LY S A N D E R

Oh, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! Love takes the meaning in love’s conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit, So that but one heart we can make of it; Two bosoms interchainèd with an oath— So then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed-room me deny, For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

H E R M I A

Lysander riddles very prettily. Now much beshrew my manners and my pride If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy Lie further off, in human modesty. Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend. Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!

LY S A N D E R

Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I, And then end life when I end loyalty! Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest!

H E R M I A

With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed! [They sleep, separated by a short distance.]

Enter Puck.

P U C K

Through the forest have I gone, But Athenian found I none On whose eyes I might approve This flower’s force in stirring love. Night and silence.—Who is here? Weeds of Athens he doth wear. This is he, my master said, Despisèd the Athenian maid; And here the maiden, sleeping sound, On the dank and dirty ground. Pretty soul, she durst not lie Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe.

[He applies the love juice.] When thou wak’st, let love forbid Sleep his seat on thy eyelid. So awake when I am gone, For I must now to Oberon. Exit.

Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.

H E L E N A

Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius!

13 Philomel the nightingale. (Philomela, daughter of King Pandion, was transformed into a nightingale, according to Ovid’s Meta- morphoses 6, after she had been raped by her sister Procne’s husband, Tereus.) 23 offense harm. 32 sentinel (Presumably Oberon is able to outwit or intimidate this guard.) 36 ounce lynx 37 Pard leopard 48 troth faith, trothplight.

51–2 take . . . conference take my meaning in an innocent sense, with generosity and sympathy! True lovers do so when they converse. 58 lie tell a falsehood. (With a riddling pun on lie, “recline.”) 60 beshrew (A mild oath.) 71 With . . . pressed! i.e., I return half that wish, so that you, the wisher, may sleep well too (instead of Sleep giv- ing all his rest to me)! 74 approve test 85 owe own. 86–7 let . . . eyelid may love, heretofore denied, be enthroned in your eyes.

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56 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 2.2 739–782 • 783–825

D E M E T R I U S

I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. H E L E N A

Oh, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so. D E M E T R I U S

Stay, on thy peril! I alone will go. [Exit.] H E L E N A

Oh, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, wheresoe’er she lies, For she hath blessèd and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears; If so, my eyes are oft’ner washed than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear, For beasts that meet me run away for fear. Therefore no marvel though Demetrius Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus. What wicked and dissembling glass of mine Made me compare with Hermia’s sphery eyne? But who is here? Lysander, on the ground? Dead, or asleep? I see no blood, no wound. Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.

LY S A N D E R [awaking] And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena! Nature shows art, That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a word Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

H E L E N A

Do not say so, Lysander; say not so. What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what

though? Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.

LY S A N D E R

Content with Hermia? No! I do repent The tedious minutes I with her have spent. Not Hermia but Helena I love. Who will not change a raven for a dove? The will of man is by his reason swayed, And reason says you are the worthier maid. Things growing are not ripe until their season; So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason. And, touching now the point of human skill, Reason becomes the marshal to my will And leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook Love’s stories written in love’s richest book.

H E L E N A

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is‘t not enough, is‘t not enough, young man, That I did never—no, nor never can— Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius’ eye,

But you must flout my insufficiency? Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, In such disdainful manner me to woo. But fare you well. Perforce I must confess I thought you lord of more true gentleness. Oh, that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused! Exit.

LY S A N D E R

She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there, And never mayst thou come Lysander near! For as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, Or as the heresies that men do leave Are hated most of those they did deceive, So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, Of all be hated, but the most of me! And, all my powers, address your love and might To honor Helen and to be her knight! Exit.

H E R M I A [awaking] Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear. Methought a serpent ate my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel prey. Lysander! What, removed? Lysander! Lord! What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word? Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear; Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh. Either death, or you, I’ll find immediately.

Exit. [The sleeping Titania remains.]

✤

[3.1] Enter the clowns [Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling].

B O T T O M Are we all met? Q U I N C E Pat, pat; and here’s a marvelous convenient

place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tiring-house, and we will do it in action as we will do it before the Duke.

B O T T O M Peter Quince? Q U I N C E What sayest thou, bully Bottom? B O T T O M There are things in this comedy of Pyramus

and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?

S N O U T By‘r lakin, a parlous fear.

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92 darkling in the dark 93 on thy peril i.e., on pain of reprisal if you don’t obey me and stay. 94 fond doting 95 my grace the favor I obtain. 96 lies dwells 102–3 no marvel . . . thus i.e., no wonder that Demetrius flies from me as from a monster. 104 glass mirror 105 compare compare myself. sphery eyne eyes as bright as stars in their spheres. 110 Transparent Radiant, pure. art skill, magic power 121 will desire 124 ripe not have not ripened 125 touch- ing . . . skill reaching now the age of mature judgment 127 o’erlook read over 129 Wherefore Why

135 Good troth, good sooth i.e., Indeed, truly 138 lord of i.e., pos- sessor of. gentleness courtesy. 139 of by 140 abused ill treated. 145–6 as . . . deceive as renounced heresies are hated most by those persons who formerly were deceived by them 148 Of . . . of by . . . by 149 address direct, apply 156 prey act of preying. 159 an if if 160 of all loves for love’s sake. 3.1. Location: The action is continuous. 0.1 clowns rustics 2 Pat On the dot, punctually 4 brake thicket. tiring-house attiring area, hence backstage 7 bully i.e., worthy, jolly, fine fellow 12 By‘r lakin By our ladykin, i.e., the Virgin Mary. parlous perilous, alarming

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S TA R V E L I N G I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

B O T T O M 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 Pyra- mus is not killed indeed; and for the more better assur- ance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus but Bottom the weaver. This will put them out of fear.

Q U I N C E Well, we will have such a prologue, and it shall be written in eight and six.

B O T T O M No, make it two more: let it be written in eight and eight.

S N O U T Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? S TA RV E L I N G I fear it, I promise you. B O T T O M Masters, you ought to consider with yourself,

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.

S N O U T Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.

B O T T O M Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion’s neck, and he him- self 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, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

Q U I N C E Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things: that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; for, you know, Pyramus and Thisbe meet by moonlight.

S N O U T Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?

B O T T O M A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanac. Find out moonshine, find out moonshine.

[They consult an almanac.] Q U I N C E Yes, it doth shine that night. B O T T O M Why then may you leave a casement of the

great chamber window where we play open, and the moon may shine in at the casement.

Q U I N C E 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 cham-

ber; for Pyramus and Thisbe, says the story, did talk through the chink of a wall.

S N O U T You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?

B O T T O M Some man or other must present Wall. And let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some rough- cast about him, to signify wall; or let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisbe whisper.

Q U I N C E 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 everyone according to his cue.

Enter Robin [Puck].

P U C K [aside] What hempen homespuns have we swagg’ring 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.

Q U I N C E Speak, Pyramus. Thisbe, stand forth. B O T T O M [as Pyramus]

“Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet—” Q U I N C E Odors, odors. B O T T O M “—Odors savors sweet;

So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear. But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,

And by and by I will to thee appear.” Exit. PUCK A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here. [Exit.] F L U T E Must I speak now? Q U I N C E Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand

he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

F L U T E [as Thisbe] “Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,

Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier, Most brisky 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.”

Q U I N C E “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 cue is past; it is “never tire.”

F L U T E

Oh—”As true as truest horse that yet would never tire.”

[Enter Puck, and Bottom as Pyramus with the ass head.]

14 when all is done i.e., when all is said and done. 16 Write me i.e., Write at my suggestion. (Me is used colloquially.) 22 eight and six alternate lines of eight and six syllables, a common ballad measure. 28 lion among ladies (A contemporary pamphlet tells how, at the christening in 1594 of Prince Henry, eldest son of King James VI of Scotland, later James I of England, a “blackamoor” instead of a lion drew the triumphal chariot, since the lion’s presence might have “brought some fear to the nearest.”) 29 fearful fear-inspiring 37 defect (Bottom’s blunder for “effect.”) 39 my life for yours i.e., I pledge my life to make your lives safe. 40 it were . . . life i.e., I should be sorry, by my life; or, my life would be endangered. 55–6 bush of thorns bundle of thornbush fagots. (Part of the accou- trements of the man in the moon, according to the popular notions of the time, along with his lantern and his dog.) 56 disfigure (Quince’s blunder for “figure,” “represent.”)

64–5 roughcast a mixture of lime and gravel used to plaster the out- side of buildings 72 hempen homespuns i.e., rustics dressed in homespun fabric made from hemp 73 cradle i.e., Titania’s bower 74 toward about to take place. 83 A stranger . . . here The strangest Pyramus you ever saw. 89 triumphant magnificent 90 brisky juvenal lively youth. eke also. Jew (A desperate attempt to rhyme with hue, inspired perhaps by the first syllable of juvenal.) 93 Ninus’ Ninus was the mythical founder of Nineveh (whose wife, Semiramis, was supposed to have built the walls of Babylon where the story of Pyramus and Thisbe takes place) 95 part (An actor’s part was a script consisting only of his speeches and their cues.) 97.1–2 with the ass head (This stage direction, taken from the Folio, presumably refers to a standard stage property.)

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B O T T O M

“If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine.” Q U I N C E Oh, monstrous! Oh, strange! We are haunted.

Pray, masters! Fly, masters! Help! [Exeunt Quince, Snug, Flute,

Snout, and Starveling.] P U C K

I’ll follow you: I’ll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake,

through brier. Sometimes a horse I’ll be, sometimes a hound,

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

B O T T O M Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me afeard.

Enter Snout.

S N O U T Oh, Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on thee?

B O T T O M What do you see? You see an ass head of your own, do you? [Exit Snout.]

Enter Quince.

Q U I N C E Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art trans- lated. Exit.

B O T T O M I see their knavery. This is 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. [He sings.]

The ouzel cock so black of hue, With orange-tawny bill,

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

T I TA N I A [awaking] What angel wakes me from my flow’ry bed?

B O T T O M [sings] The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

The plainsong 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?

T I TA N I A

I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamored of thy note; So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape; And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.

B O T T O M Methinks, mistress, you should have little rea- son for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays—the more the pity that some honest neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.

T I TA N I A

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. B O T T O M Not so, neither. But if I had wit enough to get

out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.

T I TA N I A

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 pressèd flowers dost sleep. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.— Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Mote, and Mustardseed!

Enter four Fairies [Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Mote, and Mustardseed].

P E A S E B L O S S O M Ready. C O B W E B

And I. M O T E And I. M U S TA R D S E E D And I. A L L Where shall we go? T I TA N I A

Be kind and courteous to this gentleman. Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricots and dewberries, 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 glowworms’ eyes, To have my love to bed and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes. Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

P E A S E B L O S S O M Hail, mortal! C O B W E B Hail! M O T E Hail! M U S TA R D S E E D Hail! B O T T O M I cry Your Worships mercy, heartily. I beseech

Your Worship’s name. C O B W E B Cobweb.

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98 If Even if. fair handsome. were would be 101 about a round roundabout 104 fire will-o’-the-wisp 113–14 translated trans- formed. 120 ouzel cock male blackbird 122 throstle song thrush 123 with little quill with small pipe, i.e., high-pitched note; or else with small feathers 126 plainsong singing a melody without varia- tions 128 dares . . . nay i.e., cannot deny that he is a cuckold 129 set his wit to employ his intelligence to answer 130 give . . . lie call the bird a liar 131 never so ever so much. 135 thy . . . force the power of your unblemished excellence

141 gleek jest 144–5 serve . . . turn answer my purpose. 148 rate rank, value. 149 still . . . state always waits upon me as a part of my royal retinue 156 Mote i.e., speck. (The two words moth and mote were pronounced alike, and both meanings may be present.) 160 in his eyes in his sight (i.e., before him) 161 dewberries blackberries 164 night . . . thighs (The waxen thighs of the bumble-bee are to be fashioned into wax candles to light Bottom’s way in the dark.) 165 eyes (In fact, the light is emitted by the abdomen. Eyes may be metaphorical.) 174 I cry . . . mercy I beg pardon of Your Worships (for presuming to ask a question)

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B O T T O M I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.—Your name, honest gentleman?

P E A S E B L O S S O M Peaseblossom. B O T T O M I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash,

your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.—Your name, I beseech you, sir?

M U S TA R D S E E D Mustardseed. B O T T O M Good Master Mustardseed, I know your

patience well. That same cowardly, giantlike ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.

T I TA N I A

Come wait upon him; lead him to my bower. The moon methinks looks with a wat’ry eye;

And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, Lamenting some enforcèd chastity. Tie up my lover’s tongue; bring him silently.

Exeunt.

✤

[3.2] Enter [Oberon,] King of Fairies.

O B E R O N

I wonder if Titania be awaked; Then, what it was that next came in her eye, Which she must dote on in extremity.

[Enter] Robin Goodfellow [Puck].

Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit? What night-rule now about this haunted grove?

P U C K

My mistress with a monster is in love. Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, Were met together to rehearse a play Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial day. The shallowest thickskin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport Forsook his scene and entered in a brake. When I did him at this advantage take,

An ass’s noll I fixèd on his head. Anon his Thisbe must be answerèd, And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun’s report, Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky, So, at his sight, away his fellows fly; And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls; He “Murder!” cries and help from Athens calls. Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus

strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong, For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch; Some, sleeves—some, hats; from yielders all things

catch. I led them on in this distracted fear And left sweet Pyramus translated there, When in that moment, so it came to pass, Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.

O B E R O N

This falls out better than I could devise. But hast thou yet latched the Athenian’s eyes With the love juice, as I did bid thee do?

P U C K

I took him sleeping—that is finished too— And the Athenian woman by his side, That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

O B E R O N

Stand close. This is the same Athenian. P U C K

This is the woman, but not this the man. [They stand aside.]

D E M E T R I U S

Oh, why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

H E R M I A

Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too. The sun was not so true unto the day As he to me. Would he have stolen away From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon May through the center creep, and so displease Her brother’s noontide with th’Antipodes.177 I . . . acquaintance I crave to be better acquainted with you

178–9 If . . . you (Cobwebs were used to stanch bleeding.) 181 Squash unripe pea pod 182 Peascod ripe pea pod 186–7 your patience what you have endured. (Mustard is eaten with beef.) 189 water (1) weep for sympathy (2) smart, sting 194 And . . . flower (Dew was thought to fall from the heavens in greater propor- tion as the moon shown fully.) 195 enforcèd violated. (The moon is associated throughout the play with the goddess Diana and chastity.) 196 Tie . . . tongue (Presumably Bottom is braying like an ass.) 3.2. Location: The wood. 5 night-rule diversion or misrule for the night 7 close secret 8 dull drowsy 9 patches clowns, fools. rude mechanicals ignorant arti- sans 10 stalls market booths 13 barren sort stupid company or crew 14 presented acted 15 scene playing area

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17 noll noddle, head 19 mimic actor 20 fowler hunter of game birds 21 russet-pated choughs reddish brown or gray-headed jack- daws. in sort in a flock 23 Sever themselves i.e., scatter 27–8 Their . . . wrong Their weakened physical senses, disabled by their strong fears, made it seem to them as though inanimate things in the forest were attacking them 30 from . . . catch the forest snatches away everything from those who yield to it. 36 latched snared, taken prisoner 40 of force perforce 48 Being o’er shoes having waded in so far 53 whole solid 55 Her . . . Antipodes i.e., the sun’s noontime on the opposite side of the earth, among the peo- ple who live there, the Antipodes.

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It cannot be but thou hast murdered him; So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

D E M E T R I U S

So should the murdered look, and so should I, Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty. Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

H E R M I A

What’s this to my Lysander? Where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

D E M E T R I U S

I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. H E R M I A

Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv’st me past the bounds Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him, then? Henceforth be never numbered among men. Oh, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake: Durst thou have looked upon him being awake? And hast thou killed him sleeping? Oh, brave touch! Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

D E M E T R I U S

You spend your passion on a misprised mood. I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood, Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

H E R M I A

I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. D E M E T R I U S

And if I could, what should I get therefor? H E R M I A

A privilege never to see me more. And from thy hated presence part I so. See me no more, whether he be dead or no. Exit.

D E M E T R I U S

There is no following her in this fierce vein. Here therefore for a while I will remain. So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe, Which now in some slight measure it will pay, If for his tender here I make some stay.

[He] lie[s] down [and sleeps]. O B E R O N

What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite And laid the love juice on some true love’s sight. Of thy misprision must perforce ensue Some true love turned, and not a false turned true.

P U C K

Then fate o’errules, that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

O B E R O N

About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find. All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear. By some illusion see thou bring her here. I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.

P U C K

I go, I go, look how I go, Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. [Exit.]

O B E R O N [applying love juice to Demetrius’s eyes] Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid’s archery, Sink in apple of his eye. When his love he doth espy, Let her shine as gloriously As the Venus of the sky. When thou wak’st, if she be by, Beg of her for remedy.

Enter Puck.

P U C K

Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover’s fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!

O B E R O N

Stand aside. The noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake.

P U C K

Then will two at once woo one; That must needs be sport alone. And those things do best please me That befall preposterously.

[They stand aside.]

Enter Lysander and Helena.

LY S A N D E R

Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears.

Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears.

How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true?

H E L E N A

You do advance your cunning more and more. When truth kills truth, oh, devilish-holy fray!

These vows are Hermia’s. Will you give her o’er? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh;

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57 dead deadly, or deathly pale 62 to to do with 68 once once and for all 69 being awake when he was awake. 70 brave touch! fine stroke! (Said ironically.) 71 worm serpent 72 doubler (1) more forked (2) more deceitful 74 You . . . mood Your anger is misdi- rected. 78 therefor in return for that. 84–7 So . . . stay The heavi- ness of sorrow grows still heavier when sleepiness adds to the weariness caused by sorrow, which debt to sleepiness I will now repay in part if I can stop here and accept what sleep has to offer. 90 misprision mistake 92–3 Then . . . oath If so, then fate prevails; for each male who is able to keep true faith in love, a million will fail, breaking oath on oath.

96 fancy-sick lovesick. cheer face 97 sighs . . . dear (Each sigh was supposed to cost the heart a drop of blood.) 99 against . . . appear in anticipation of her coming. 101 Tartar’s bow (Tartars were famed for their skill with the bow.) 104 apple pupil 113 fee privi- lege, reward. 114 fond pageant foolish spectacle 119 alone unequaled. 121 preposterously out of the natural order. 124 Look when Whenever 124–5 vows . . . appears i.e., vows made by one who is weeping give evidence thereby of their sincerity. 128 advance carry forward, display 129 When . . . truth i.e., When one of your vows cancels the other

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Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.

LY S A N D E R

I had no judgment when to her I swore. H E L E N A

Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er. LY S A N D E R

Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. D E M E T R I U S [awaking]

O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. Oh, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! That pure congealèd white, high Taurus’ snow, Fanned with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold’st up thy hand. Oh, let me kiss This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!

H E L E N A

Oh, spite! Oh, hell! I see you all are bent To set against me for your merriment. If you were civil and knew courtesy, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, But you must join in souls to mock me too? If you were men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle lady so— To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. You both are rivals, and love Hermia, And now both rivals to mock Helena. A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes With your derision! None of noble sort Would so offend a virgin and extort A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.

LY S A N D E R

You are unkind, Demetrius. Be not so. For you love Hermia; this you know I know. And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do till my death.

H E L E N A

Never did mockers waste more idle breath. D E M E T R I U S

Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none. If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but as guestwise sojourned, And now to Helen is it home returned, There to remain.

LY S A N D E R Helen, it is not so.

D E M E T R I U S

Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

Enter Hermia.

H E R M I A

Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompense. Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found; Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?

LY S A N D E R

Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go? H E R M I A

What love could press Lysander from my side? LY S A N D E R

Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide— Fair Helena, who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek’st thou me? Could not this make thee

know The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?

H E R M I A

You speak not as you think. It cannot be. H E L E N A

Lo, she is one of this confederacy! Now I perceive they have conjoined all three To fashion this false sport, in spite of me. Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid! Have you conspired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel that we two have shared— The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent When we have chid the hasty-footed time For parting us—oh, is all forgot? All schooldays’ friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries molded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies but one heart, Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one and crownèd with one crest. And will you rend our ancient love asunder, To join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.

133 tales lies. 139 show appearance 141 Taurus’ Taurus was a lofty mountain range in Asia Minor 142 turns to a crow i.e., seems black by contrast 144 seal pledge 146 set against attack 150 in souls i.e., heart and soul 153 superpraise overpraise. parts qualities 157 trim pretty, fine. (Said ironically.) 159 sort character, quality 160 extort twist, torture 169 will none i.e., want no part of her. 171 to . . . sojourned only visited with her

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Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury.

H E R M I A

I am amazèd at your passionate words. I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me.

H E L E N A

Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, To follow me and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius, Who even but now did spurn me with his foot, To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare, Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love, so rich within his soul, And tender me, forsooth, affection, But by your setting on, by your consent? What though I be not so in grace as you, So hung upon with love, so fortunate, But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise.

H E R M I A

I understand not what you mean by this. H E L E N A

Ay, do! Persever, counterfeit sad looks, Make mouths upon me when I turn my back, Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up. This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument. But fare ye well. ’Tis partly my own fault, Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.

LY S A N D E R

Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse, My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!

H E L E N A

Oh, excellent! H E R M I A [to Lysander] Sweet, do not scorn her so. D E M E T R I U S [to Lysander]

If she cannot entreat, I can compel. LY S A N D E R

Thou canst compel no more than she entreat. Thy threats have no more strength than her weak

prayers.— Helen, I love thee, by my life, I do! I swear by that which I will lose for thee, To prove him false that says I love thee not.

D E M E T R I U S [to Helena] I say I love thee more than he can do.

LY S A N D E R

If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. D E M E T R I U S

Quick, come! H E R M I A Lysander, whereto tends all this?

LY S A N D E R

Away, you Ethiope! [He tries to break away from Hermia.]

D E M E T R I U S No, no; he’ll Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow, But yet come not. You are a tame man. Go!

LY S A N D E R [to Hermia] Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!

H E R M I A

Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love?

LY S A N D E R Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathèd med’cine! O hated potion, hence!

H E R M I A

Do you not jest? H E L E N A Yes, sooth, and so do you. LY S A N D E R

Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. D E M E T R I U S

I would I had your bond, for I perceive A weak bond holds you. I’ll not trust your word.

LY S A N D E R

What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so.

H E R M I A

What, can you do me greater harm than hate? Hate me? Wherefore? Oh, me, what news, my love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? I am as fair now as I was erewhile. Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me. Why, then you left me—oh, the gods forbid!— In earnest, shall I say?

LY S A N D E R Ay, by my life! And never did desire to see thee more. Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt; Be certain, nothing truer. ’Tis no jest That I do hate thee and love Helena.

H E R M I A [to Helena] Oh, me! You juggler! You cankerblossom! You thief of love! What, have you come by night And stol’n my love’s heart from him?

H E L E N A Fine, i’faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! You counterfeit, you puppet, you!

H E R M I A

“Puppet”? Why, so! Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare Between our statures; she hath urged her height, And with her personage, her tall personage,

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257 Ethiope (Referring to Hermia’s relatively dark hair and complex- ion; see also tawny Tartar six lines later.) 258 take on as act as if, make a fuss as if 260 Hang off Let go 264 med’cine i.e., poison 265 sooth truly 268 weak bond i.e., Hermia’s arm. (With a pun on bond, “oath,” in the previous line.) 272 what news what is the mat- ter 274 erewhile just now. 282 cankerblossom worm that destroys the flower bud, or wild rose. 288 puppet (1) counterfeit (2) dwarfish woman (in reference to Hermia’s smaller stature)

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Her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed with him. And are you grown so high in his esteem Because I am so dwarfish and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak! How low am I? I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

[She flails at Helena but is restrained.] H E L E N A

I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me. I was never curst; I have no gift at all in shrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice. Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, Because she is something lower than myself, That I can match her.

H E R M I A Lower? Hark, again! H E L E N A

Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you, Save that, in love unto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you; for love I followed him. But he hath chid me hence and threatened me To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too. And now, so you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I bear my folly back And follow you no further. Let me go. You see how simple and how fond I am.

H E R M I A

Why, get you gone. Who is’t that hinders you? H E L E N A

A foolish heart, that I leave here behind. H E R M I A

What, with Lysander? H E L E N A With Demetrius. LY S A N D E R

Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena. D E M E T R I U S

No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part. H E L E N A

Oh, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.

H E R M I A

“Little” again? Nothing but “low” and “little”?— Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her.

LY S A N D E R Get you gone, you dwarf! You minimus, of hind’ring knotgrass made! You bead, you acorn!

D E M E T R I U S You are too officious In her behalf that scorns your services. Let her alone. Speak not of Helena;

Take not her part. For, if thou dost intend Never so little show of love to her, Thou shalt aby it.

LY S A N D E R Now she holds me not. Now follow, if thou dar’st, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in Helena. [Exit.]

D E M E T R I U S

Follow? Nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl. [Exit, following Lysander.]

H E R M I A

You, mistress, all this coil is ’long of you. Nay, go not back.

H E L E N A I will not trust you, I, Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray; My legs are longer, though, to run away. [Exit.]

H E R M I A

I am amazed and know not what to say. Exit.

[Oberon and Puck come forward.]

O B E R O N

This is thy negligence. Still thou mistak’st, Or else commit’st thy knaveries willfully.

P U C K

Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the man By the Athenian garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprise That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes; And so far am I glad it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

O B E R O N

Thou see’st these lovers seek a place to fight. Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog as black as Acheron, And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another’s way. Like to Lysander sometimes frame thy tongue, Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; And sometimes rail thou like Demetrius. And from each other look thou lead them thus, Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye,

[giving herb] Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, To take from thence all error with his might And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision,

300 curst shrewish 302 right true. for for all 304 something somewhat 310 stealth stealing away 312 chid me hence driven me away with his scolding 313 spurn kick 314 so if only 317 fond foolish 323 keen and shrewd fierce and shrewish. 329 minimus diminutive creature. knotgrass a weed, an infusion of which was thought to stunt the growth

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64 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 3.2 1413–1449 • 1450–1490

And back to Athens shall the lovers wend With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy; And then I will her charmèd eye release From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.

P U C K

My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger, At whose approach ghosts, wand’ring here and there, Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all, That in crossways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone. For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully themselves exile from light And must for aye consort with black-browed night.

O B E R O N

But we are spirits of another sort. I with the Morning’s love have oft made sport, And, like a forester, the groves may tread Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessèd beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. But notwithstanding, haste, make no delay. We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit.]

P U C K

Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down. I am feared in field and town. Goblin, lead them up and down.

Here comes one.

Enter Lysander.

LY S A N D E R

Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now. P U C K [mimicking Demetrius]

Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou? LY S A N D E R

I will be with thee straight. P U C K Follow me, then,

To plainer ground. [Lysander wanders about, following the voice.]

Enter Demetrius.

D E M E T R I U S Lysander! Speak again! Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

P U C K [mimicking Lysander] Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars, And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child, I’ll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled That draws a sword on thee.

D E M E T R I U S Yea, art thou there? P U C K

Follow my voice. We’ll try no manhood here. Exeunt.

[Lysander returns.]

LY S A N D E R

He goes before me and still dares me on. When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter-heeled than I. I followed fast, but faster he did fly, That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me. [He lies down.] Come, thou

gentle day! For if but once thou show me thy gray light, I’ll find Demetrius and revenge this spite. [He sleeps.]

[Enter] Robin [Puck] and Demetrius.

P U C K

Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com’st thou not? D E M E T R I U S

Abide me, if thou dar’st; for well I wot Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place, And dar’st not stand nor look me in the face. Where art thou now?

P U C K Come hither. I am here. D E M E T R I U S

Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by daylight see. Now go thy way. Faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on this cold bed. By day’s approach look to be visited.

[He lies down and sleeps.]

Enter Helena.

H E L E N A

O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east,

That I may back to Athens by daylight From these that my poor company detest;

And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company!

[She lies down and] sleep[s]. P U C K

Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds makes up four. Here she comes, curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.

[Enter Hermia.]

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409 recreant cowardly wretch 412 try test 422 Abide Confront, face. wot know 426 buy this dear pay for this dearly 432 Abate lessen, shorten 439 curst ill-tempered

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1491–1528 • 1529–1572 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 4.1 65

H E R M I A

Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers,

I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires.

Here will I rest me till the break of day. Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!

[She lies down and sleeps.] P U C K

On the ground Sleep sound. I’ll apply To your eye,

Gentle lover, remedy. [He squeezes the juice on Lysander’s eyes.]

When thou wak’st, Thou tak’st True delight In the sight

Of thy former lady’s eye; And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown:

Jack shall have Jill; Naught shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. [Exit. The four sleeping lovers remain.]

✤

[4.1] Enter [Titania,] Queen of Fairies, and [Bottom the] clown, and Fairies; and [Oberon,] the King, behind them.

T I TA N I A

Come, sit thee down upon this flow’ry bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

[They recline.] B O T T O M Where’s Peaseblossom? P E A S E B L O S S O M Ready. B O T T O M Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s

Monsieur Cobweb? C O B W E B Ready. B O T T O M Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you

your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mon- sieur, bring me the honey bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey bag break not. I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey bag, signor.

[Exit Cobweb.] Where’s Monsieur Mustardseed?

M U S TA R D S E E D Ready.

B O T T O M Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur.

M U S TA R D S E E D What’s your will? B O T T O M Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery

Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s, monsieur, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me I must scratch.

T I TA N I A

What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? B O T T O M I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s

have the tongs and the bones. [Music: tongs, rural music.]

T I TA N I A

Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. B O T T O M Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch

your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

T I TA N I A

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

B O T T O M I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me. I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

T I TA N I A

Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.— Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.

[Exeunt Fairies.] So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist; the female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. Oh, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!

[They sleep.]

Enter Robin Goodfellow [Puck].

O B E R O N [coming forward] Welcome, good Robin. See’st thou this sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For, meeting her of late behind the wood Seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her and fall out with her. For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew, which sometime on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her,

461 Jack shall have Jill (Proverbial for “boy gets girl.”) 4.1. Location: The action is continuous. The four lovers are still asleep onstage. (Compare with the Folio stage direction: “They sleep all the act.”) 2 amiable lovely. coy caress

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19 neaf fist 20 leave your courtesy i.e., stop bowing, or put on your hat 22 Cavalery Cavalier. (Form of address for a gentleman.) 23 Cobweb (Seemingly an error, since Cobweb has been sent to bring honey, while Peaseblossom has been asked to scratch.) 29 tongs . . . bones instruments for rustic music. (The tongs were played like a tri- angle, whereas the bones were held between the fingers and used as clappers.) 29.1 Music . . . music (This stage direction is added from the Folio.) 31 peck of provender one-quarter bushel of grain. 33 bottle bundle. fellow equal. 37 stir disturb 38 exposition of (Bottom’s phrase for “disposition to.”) 40 all ways in all directions 41 woodbine bindweed, a climbing plant 48 favors i.e., gifts of flowers 52 sometime formerly 53 orient lustrous

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66 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 4.1 1573–1616 • 1617–1654

And she in mild terms begged my patience, I then did ask of her her changeling child, Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent To bear him to my bower in Fairyland. And, now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes. And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain, That he, awaking when the other do, May all to Athens back again repair, And think no more of this night’s accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

[He squeezes an herb on her eyes.] Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see. Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower Hath such force and blessèd power.

Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen. T I TA N I A [awaking]

My Oberon! What visions have I seen! Methought I was enamored of an ass.

O B E R O N

There lies your love. T I TA N I A How came these things to pass?

Oh, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! O B E R O N

Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call, and strike more dead Than common sleep of all these five the sense.

T I TA N I A

Music, ho! Music, such as charmeth sleep! [Music.] P U C K [removing the ass head]

Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

O B E R O N

Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me, And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

[They dance.] Now thou and I are new in amity, And will tomorrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperity. There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

P U C K

Fairy King, attend, and mark: I do hear the morning lark.

O B E R O N

Then, my queen, in silence sad, Trip we after night’s shade. We the globe can compass soon, Swifter than the wand’ring moon.

T I TA N I A

Come, my lord, and in our flight Tell me how it came this night That I sleeping here was found With these mortals on the ground.

Exeunt [Oberon, Titania, and Puck]. Wind horn [within].

Enter Theseus and all his train; [Hippolyta, Egeus].

T H E S E U S

Go, one of you, find out the forester, For now our observation is performed; And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds. Uncouple in the western valley; let them go. Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.

[Exit an Attendant.] We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

H I P P O LY TA

I was with Hercules and Cadmus once When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

T H E S E U S

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tunable Was never holloed to nor cheered with horn In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly. Judge when you hear. [He sees the sleepers.] But soft!

What nymphs are these? E G E U S

My lord, this is my daughter here asleep, And this Lysander; this Demetrius is; This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena. I wonder of their being here together.

T H E S E U S

No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May, and hearing our intent,

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65 other others 66 repair return 72 Dian’s bud (Perhaps the flower of the agnus castus or chaste-tree, supposed to preserve chastity; or perhaps referring simply to Oberon’s herb by which he can undo the effects of “Cupid’s flower,” the love-in-idleness of 2.1.166–8.) 81 these five i.e., the four lovers and Bottom 82 charmeth brings about, as though by a charm 87 solemnly ceremoniously 94 sad solemn

103 observation i.e., observance to a morn of May (1.1.167) 104 vaward vanguard, i.e., earliest part 106 Uncouple Set free for the hunt 111 Cadmus mythical founder of Thebes. (This story about him is unknown.) 112 bayed brought to bay 113 hounds of Sparta (A breed famous in antiquity for their hunting skill.) 114 chiding i.e., yelping 118 kind strain, breed 119 So flewed similarly having large hanging chaps or fleshy covering of the jaw. sanded of sandy color 121 dewlapped having pendulous folds of skin under the neck. Thessalian from Thessaly, in Greece 122–3 matched . . . each i.e., harmoniously matched in their various cries like a set of bells, from treble down to bass. 123 cry pack of hounds. tunable well tuned, melodious 124 cheered encouraged 126 soft i.e., gently, wait a minute. 130 of at

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1655–1703 • 1704–1745 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 4.1 67

Came here in grace of our solemnity. But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

E G E U S It is, my lord. T H E S E U S

Go bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. [Exit an Attendant.]

Shout within. Wind horns. They all start up.

Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past. Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?

LY S A N D E R

Pardon, my lord. [They kneel.] T H E S E U S I pray you all, stand up.

[They stand.] I know you two are rival enemies; How comes this gentle concord in the world, That hatred is so far from jealousy To sleep by hate and fear no enmity?

LY S A N D E R

My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, half waking; but as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here. But, as I think—for truly would I speak, And now I do bethink me, so it is— I came with Hermia hither. Our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, Without the peril of the Athenian law—

E G E U S

Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough. I beg the law, the law, upon his head. They would have stol’n away; they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me, You of your wife and me of my consent, Of my consent that she should be your wife.

D E M E T R I U S

My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither to this wood, And I in fury hither followed them, Fair Helena in fancy following me. But, my good lord, I wot not by what power— But by some power it is—my love to Hermia, Melted as the snow, seems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gaud Which in my childhood I did dote upon; And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object and the pleasure of mine eye, Is only Helena. To her, my lord, Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia, But like a sickness did I loathe this food; But, as in health, come to my natural taste, Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will forevermore be true to it.

T H E S E U S

Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse we more will hear anon.

Egeus, I will overbear your will; For in the temple, by and by, with us These couples shall eternally be knit. And, for the morning now is something worn, Our purposed hunting shall be set aside. Away with us to Athens. Three and three, We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity. Come, Hippolyta.

[Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and train.] D E M E T R I U S

These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turnèd into clouds.

H E R M I A

Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When everything seems double.

H E L E N A So methinks; And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.

D E M E T R I U S Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?

H E R M I A

Yea, and my father. H E L E N A And Hippolyta. LY S A N D E R

And he did bid us follow to the temple. D E M E T R I U S

Why, then, we are awake. Let’s follow him, And by the way let us recount our dreams.

[Exeunt the lovers.] B O T T O M [awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I

will answer. My next is “Most fair Pyramus.” Heigh- ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life, stolen hence and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was—and methought I had—but man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream. It shall be called “Bottom’s Dream,” because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peradven- ture, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. [Exit.]

✤

133 in . . . solemnity in honor of our wedding ceremony. 138 Saint Valentine (Birds were supposed to choose their mates on Saint Valen- tine’s Day.) 162 in fancy driven by love 166 idle gaud worthless trinket

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68 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM: 4.2 1746–1790 • 1791–1830

[4.2] Enter Quince, Flute, [Snout, and Starveling].

Q U I N C E Have you sent to Bottom’s house? Is he come home yet?

S TA RV E L I N G He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.

F L U T E If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes not forward. Doth it?

Q U I N C E It is not possible. You have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.

F L U T E No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens.

Q U I N C E Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.

F L U T E You must say “paragon.” A paramour is, God bless us, a thing of naught.

Enter Snug the joiner.

S N U G Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

F L U T E Oh, sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence a day. An the Duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be hanged. He would have deserved it. Sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.

Enter Bottom.

B O T T O M Where are these lads? Where are these hearts? Q U I N C E Bottom! Oh, most courageous day! Oh, most

happy hour! B O T T O M Masters, I am to discourse wonders. But ask

me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you everything, right as it fell out.

Q U I N C E Let us hear, sweet Bottom. B O T T O M Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is that

the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o’er his part; for the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisbe have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws. And, most dear ac- tors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say it is a sweet comedy. No more words. Away! Go, away!

[Exeunt.]

✤

[5.1] Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate, [lords, and attendants].

H I P P O LY TA

’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of. T H E S E U S

More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to

heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

H I P P O LY TA

But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together, More witnesseth than fancy’s images And grows to something of great constancy; But, howsoever, strange and admirable.

Enter lovers: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.

T H E S E U S

Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!

LY S A N D E R More than to us Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!

T H E S E U S

Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have,

To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime? Where is our usual manager of mirth?

4.2. Location: Athens. 4 transported carried off by fairies; or, transformed. 8 discharge perform 9 wit intellect 11 person appearance 14 a . . . naught a shameful thing. 17–18 we . . . men i.e., we would have had our for- tunes made. 20 sixpence a day i.e., as a royal pension 25 hearts good fellows. 28 am . . . wonders have wonders to relate. 32 of out of 34 strings (to attach the beards) 35 pumps light shoes or slip- pers 37 preferred selected for consideration.

5.1. Location: Athens. The palace of Theseus. 1 that that which 2 may can 3 antique old-fashioned. (Punning, too, on antic, “strange,” “grotesque.”) fairy toys trifling stories about fairies. 5 fantasies imaginations. apprehend conceive, imagine 6 comprehends understands. 8 compact formed, com- posed. 11 Helen’s i.e., of Helen of Troy, pattern of beauty. brow of Egypt i.e., face of a gypsy. 20 bringer i.e., source 21 fear object of fear 25 More . . . images testifies to something more substantial than mere imaginings 26 constancy certainty 27 howsoever in any case. admirable a source of wonder. 32 masques courtly entertainments

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What revels are in hand? Is there no play To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philostrate.

P H I L O S T R AT E Here, mighty Theseus. T H E S E U S

Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What masque? What music? How shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with some delight?

P H I L O S T R AT E [giving him a paper] There is a brief how many sports are ripe. Make choice of which Your Highness will see first.

T H E S E U S [reads] “The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp”? We’ll none of that. That have I told my love, In glory of my kinsman Hercules. [He reads.] “The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage”? That is an old device; and it was played When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. [He reads.] “The thrice three Muses mourning for the

death Of Learning, late deceased in beggary”? That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. [He reads.] “A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth”? Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief? That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord?

P H I L O S T R AT E

A play there is, my lord, some ten words long, Which is as brief as I have known a play; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes it tedious. For in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted. And tragical, my noble lord, it is, For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess, Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed.

T H E S E U S What are they that do play it? P H I L O S T R AT E

Hardhanded men that work in Athens here, Which never labored in their minds till now, And now have toiled their unbreathed memories

With this same play, against your nuptial. T H E S E U S

And we will hear it. P H I L O S T R AT E No, my noble lord,

It is not for you. I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world; Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretched and conned with cruel pain To do you service.

T H E S E U S I will hear that play; For never anything can be amiss When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in; and take your places, ladies.

[Philostrate goes to summon the players.] H I P P O LY TA

I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged, And duty in his service perishing.

T H E S E U S

Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. H I P P O LY TA

He says they can do nothing in this kind. T H E S E U S

The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake; And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect Takes it in might, not merit. Where I have come, great clerks have purposèd To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, Make periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their practiced accent in their fears, And in conclusion dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet, Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome; And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity In least speak most, to my capacity.

[Philostrate returns.]

P H I L O S T R AT E

So please Your Grace, the Prologue is addressed. T H E S E U S Let him approach. [A flourish of trumpets.]

Enter the Prologue [Quince].

P R O L O G U E

If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend,

But with good will. To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end.

39 abridgment pastime (to abridge or shorten the evening) 42 brief summary 44 battle . . . Centaurs (Probably refers to the bat- tle of the Centaurs and the Lapithae, when the Centaurs attempted to carry off Hippodamia, bride of Theseus’s friend Pirothous. The story is told in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 12.) 47 kinsman (Plutarch’s “Life of Theseus” states that Hercules and Theseus were near kinsmen. The- seus is referring to a version of the battle of the Centaurs in which Hercules was said to be present.) 48–9 The riot . . . rage (This was the story of the death of Orpheus, as told in Metamorphoses 11.) 50 device show, performance 52–3 The thrice . . . beggary (Possibly an allusion to Spenser’s Teares of the Muses, 1591, though “satires” deploring the neglect of learning and the creative arts were common- place.) 55 sorting with befitting 59 strange (Sometimes emended to an adjective that would contrast with snow, just as hot contrasts with ice.) 74 toiled taxed. unbreathed unexercised

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75 against in preparation for 80 conned memorized 85 wretched- ness o’ercharged social or intellectual inferiority overburdened 86 his service its attempt to serve 88 kind kind of thing. 91–2 noble . . . merit noble consideration values it for the effort made rather than for the actual worth. 93 clerks learned men 97 prac- ticed accent i.e., rehearsed speech; or, usual way of speaking 105 least i.e., saying least. to my capacity in my judgment and understanding. 106 Prologue speaker of the prologue. addressed ready.

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Consider, then, we come but in despite. We do not come, as minding to content you,

Our true intent is. All for your delight We are not here. That you should here repent you,

The actors are at hand; and, by their show, You shall know all that you are like to know.

T H E S E U S This fellow doth not stand upon points. LY S A N D E R 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.

H I P P O LY TA Indeed, he hath played on his prologue like a child on a recorder: a sound, but not in government.

T H E S E U S His speech was like a tangled chain: nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?

Enter Pyramus [Bottom], and Thisbe [Flute], and Wall [Snout], and Moonshine [Starveling], and Lion [Snug].

P R O L O G U E

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 Thisbe is, certain.

This man with lime and roughcast doth present Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder;

And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.

This man with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know,

By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.

This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name, The trusty Thisbe coming first by night Did scare away, or rather did affright; And as she fled, her mantle she did fall,

Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain. Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,

And finds his trusty Thisbe’s mantle slain; Whereat, with blade, with bloody, blameful blade,

He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast. And Thisbe, tarrying in mulberry shade,

His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain At large discourse, while here they do remain.

Exeunt Lion, Thisbe, and Moonshine. T H E S E U S I wonder if the lion be to speak. D E M E T R I U S No wonder, my lord. One lion may, when

many asses do. WA L L

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 crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe, Did whisper often, very secretly. This loam, this roughcast, 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.

T H E S E U S Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?

D E M E T R I U S It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.

[Pyramus comes forward.]

T H E S E U S Pyramus draws near the wall. Silence! P Y R A M U S

O grim-looked night! O night with hue so black! O night, which ever art when day is not!

O night, O night! Alack, alack, alack, I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot.

And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, That stand’st between her father’s ground and

mine, Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,

Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne. [Wall makes a chink with his fingers.]

Thanks, courteous wall. Jove shield thee well for this.

But what see I? No Thisbe do I see. O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!

Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me! T H E S E U S The wall, methinks, being sensible, should

curse again. P Y R A M U S No, in truth, sir, he should not. “Deceiving

me” is Thisbe’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.

Enter Thisbe.

T H I S B E

O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans For parting my fair Pyramus and me.

My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones, Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

P Y R A M U S

I see a voice. Now will I to the chink, To spy an I can hear my Thisbe’s face.

Thisbe! T H I S B E My love! Thou art my love, I think. P Y R A M U S

Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace, And like Limander am I trusty still.

T H I S B E

And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.

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113 minding intending 118 stand upon points (1) heed niceties or small points (2) pay attention to punctuation in his reading. (The humor of Quince’s speech is in the blunders of its punctuation.) 119 rid ridden. rough unbroken 120 stop (1) stopping of a colt by reining it in (2) punctuation mark. 123 recorder wind instrument like a flute. government control. 124 nothing not at all 136 think no scorn think it no disgraceful matter 138 hight is called 141 fall let fall 143 tall courageous 146 broached stabbed 150 At large in full, at length 154 interlude play

162 right and sinister from right to left 166 partition (1) wall (2) sec- tion of a learned treatise or oration 169 grim-looked grim-looking 181 sensible capable of feeling 182 again in return. 185 pat exactly 192 an if 194 lover’s grace i.e., gracious lover 195, 196 Limander, Helen (Blunders for “Leander” and “Hero.”)

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P Y R A M U S

Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true. T H I S B E

As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you. P Y R A M U S

Oh, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall! T H I S B E

I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all. P Y R A M U S

Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway? T H I S B E

’Tide life, ‘tide death, I come without delay. [Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe.]

WA L L

Thus have I, Wall, my part dischargèd so; And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit.]

T H E S E U S Now is the mural down between the two neighbors.

D E M E T R I U S No remedy, my lord, when walls are so willful to hear without warning.

H I P P O LY TA This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. T H E S E U S The best in this kind are but shadows; and the

worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. H I P P O LY TA It must be your imagination then, and not

theirs. T H E S E U S If we imagine no worse of them than they of

themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moonshine.

L I O N

You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on

floor, May now perchance both quake and tremble here,

When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. Then know that I, as 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.

T H E S E U S A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. D E M E T R I U S The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I

saw. LY S A N D E R This lion is a very fox for his valor. T H E S E U S True; and a goose for his discretion. D E M E T R I U S Not so, my lord, for his valor cannot carry

his discretion, and the fox carries the goose. T H E S E U S His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his

valor; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well. Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.

M O O N

This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present— D E M E T R I U S He should have worn the horns on his

head. T H E S E U S He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible

within the circumference. M O O N

This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present; Myself the man i’th’ moon do seem to be.

T H E S E U S This is the greatest error of all the rest. The man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the man i’th’ moon?

D E M E T R I U S He dares not come there for the candle, for you see it is already in snuff.

H I P P O LY TA I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!

T H E S E U S 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.

LY S A N D E R Proceed, Moon. M O O N All that I have to say is to tell you that the lan-

thorn is the moon, I, the man i’th’ moon, this thorn- bush my thornbush, and this dog my dog.

D E M E T R I U S Why, all these should be in the lanthorn, for all these are in the moon. But silence! Here comes Thisbe.

Enter Thisbe.

T H I S B E

This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love? L I O N [roaring] Oh! D E M E T R I U S Well roared, Lion.

[Thisbe runs off, dropping her mantle.] T H E S E U S Well run, Thisbe. H I P P O LY TA Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines

with a good grace. [The Lion worries Thisbe’s mantle.]

T H E S E U S Well moused, Lion.

Enter Pyramus. [Exit Lion.]

D E M E T R I U S And then came Pyramus. LY S A N D E R And so the lion vanished. P Y R A M U S

Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;

For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams, I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.

But stay, oh, spite! But mark, poor knight,

What dreadful dole is here? Eyes, do you see? How can it be?

197 Shafalus, Procrus (Blunders for “Cephalus” and “Procris,” also famous lovers.) 202 ’Tide Betide, come 208 willful willing. with- out warning i.e., without warning the parents. (Demetrius makes a joke on the proverb “Walls have ears.”) 210 in this kind of this sort. shadows likenesses, representations 221–2 am . . . dam enact the part of a fierce lion, but otherwise am not really a lion. (Dam means “mother”; in Shakespeare’s source the beast is a lioness.) 228 is . . . valor i.e., his valor consists of craftiness and discretion. 229 a goose . . . discretion i.e., as discreet as a goose, that is, more foolish than discreet.

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235 lanthorn (This original spelling, “lanthorne,” may suggest a play on the horn of which lanterns were made and also on a cuckold’s horns; however, the spelling “lanthorne” is not used consistently for comic effect in this play or elsewhere. At 5.1.134, for example, the word is “lanterne” in the original.) 236–7 on his head (As a sign of cuck- oldry.) 238 crescent a waxing moon 245 for the because of the, for fear of the 246 in snuff (1) offended (2) in need of snuffing or trim- ming. 265 moused shaken, torn, bitten 274 dole grievous event

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Oh, dainty duck! Oh, dear! Thy mantle good, What, stained with blood?

Approach, ye Furies fell! O Fates, come, come, Cut thread and thrum;

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell! T H E S E U S This passion, and the death of a dear friend,

would go near to make a man look sad. H I P P O LY TA Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. P Y R A M U S

Oh, wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame? Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear, Which is—no, no, which was—the fairest dame That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with

cheer. Come, tears, confound, Out, sword, and wound

The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, Where heart doth hop. [He stabs himself.]

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled;

My soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light; Moon, take thy flight. [Exit Moonshine.]

Now die, die, die, die, die. [Pyramus dies.] D E M E T R I U S No die, but an ace, for him; for he is

but one. LY S A N D E R Less than an ace, man; for he is dead, he is

nothing. T H E S E U S With the help of a surgeon he might yet

recover, and yet prove an ass. H I P P O LY TA How chance Moonshine is gone before

Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? T H E S E U S She will find him by starlight.

[Enter Thisbe.]

Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. H I P P O LY TA Methinks she should not use a long one for

such a Pyramus. I hope she will be brief. D E M E T R I U S A mote will turn the balance, which Pyra-

mus which Thisbe, is the better: he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.

LY S A N D E R She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

D E M E T R I U S And thus she means, videlicet: T H I S B E

Asleep, my love? What, dead, my dove?

O Pyramus, arise! Speak, speak. Quite dumb? Dead, dead? A tomb

Must cover thy sweet eyes. These lily lips, This cherry nose,

These yellow cowslip cheeks, Are gone, are gone! Lovers, make moan.

His eyes were green as leeks. O Sisters Three, Come, come to me,

With hands as pale as milk; Lay them in gore, Since you have shore

With shears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word. Come, trusty sword,

Come, blade, my breast imbrue! [She stabs herself.]

And farewell, friends. Thus Thisbe ends.

Adieu, adieu, adieu. [She dies.] T H E S E U S Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead. D E M E T R I U S Ay, and Wall too. B O T T O M [starting up, as Flute does also] 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 other players enter.]

T H E S E U S 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 played 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. [A dance.] The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed, ‘tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn As much as we this night have overwatched. This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity. [Exeunt.]

Enter Puck [carrying a broom].

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280 Furies fell fierce avenging goddesses of Greek myth. 281 Fates the three goddesses (Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos) of Greek myth who spun, drew, and cut the thread of human life 282 thread and thrum i.e., everything—the good and bad alike; literally, the warp in weav- ing and the loose end of the warp 283 Quail overpower. quell kill, destroy. 284–5 This . . . sad i.e., If one had other reason to grieve, one might be sad, but not from this absurd portrayal of passion. 286 Beshrew Curse. (A mild curse.) 287 frame create. 290 cheer countenance. 293 pap breast 303 ace the side of the die featuring the single pip, or spot. (The pun is on die as a singular of dice; Bot- tom’s performance is not worth a whole die but rather one single face of it, one small portion.) 304 one (1) an individual person (2) unique. 308 ass (With a pun on ace.) 315 mote small particle 315–16 which . . . which whether . . . or

320 means moans, laments. (With a pun on the meaning, “lodge a for- mal complaint.”) videlicet to wit 333 Sisters Three the Fates 337 shore shorn 341 imbrue stain with blood. 349 Bergomask dance a rustic dance named from Bergamo, a province in the state of Venice 358 iron tongue i.e., of a bell. told counted, struck (“tolled”) 361 overwatched stayed up too late. 362 palpable-gross palpably gross, obviously crude 363 heavy drowsy, dull

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P U C K

Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon,

Whilst the heavy plowman snores, All with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech owl, screeching loud,

Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud.

Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide,

Every one lets forth his sprite, In the churchway paths to glide.

And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate’s team.

From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream,

Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house.

I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter [Oberon and Titania,] King and Queen of Fairies, with all their train.

O B E R O N

Through the 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.

T I TA N I A

First, rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we sing, and bless this place.

[Song and dance.]

O B E R O N

Now, until the break of day, Through this house each fairy stray. To the best bride-bed will we, Which by us shall blessèd be; And the issue there create Ever shall be fortunate. So shall all the couples three Ever true in loving be; And the blots of Nature’s hand Shall not in their issue stand; Never mole, harelip, nor scar, Nor mark prodigious, such as are Despisèd in nativity, Shall upon their children be. With this field dew consecrate, Every fairy take his gait, And each several chamber bless, Through this palace, with sweet peace; And the owner of it blest Ever shall in safety rest. Trip away; make no stay; Meet me all by break of day.

Exeunt [Oberon, Titania, and train]. P U C K [to the audience]

If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearnèd luck Now to scape the serpent’s tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. [Exit.]

368 heavy tired 369 fordone exhausted. 370 wasted brands burned-out logs 376 Every . . . sprite every grave lets forth its ghost 379 triple Hecate’s (Hecate ruled in three capacities: as Luna or Cyn- thia in heaven, as Diana on earth, and as Proserpina in hell.) 382 frolic merry. 385 behind from behind, or else like sweeping the dirt under the carpet. (Robin Goodfellow was a household spirit who helped good housemaids and punished lazy ones, but he could, of course, be mischievous.) 392 rehearse recite

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400 issue offspring. create created 407 prodigious monstrous, unnatural 410 consecrate consecrated 411 take his gait go his way 412 several separate 420 That . . . here i.e., that it is a “midsummer night’s dream” 423 No . . . but yielding no more than 425 mend improve. 428 serpent’s tongue i.e., hissing 432 Give . . . hands Applaud 433 restore amends give satisfaction in return.

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The treatment of women in one or two Shakespeare plays​ ( Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night's Dream) Formal Outline Write a 4-page minimum (not including the reference page), formal outline of your paper. Your outline should include at least three l

The treatment of women in one or two Shakespeare plays ( Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night's Dream) Formal Outline Write a 4-page minimum (not including the reference page), formal outline of your paper. Your outline should include at least three l