ARKCODEX
Act V, Scene 1
1Athens. The palace of Theseus.
2Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, Lords, and Attendants.
3Hippolyta’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
4TheseusMore 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!
5HippolytaBut 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.
6TheseusHere come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
7Enter Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.
8Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love
Accompany your hearts!
9LysanderMore than to us
Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
10TheseusCome now; what masques, what dances shall we have,
To wear away this long age of three hours
Between our after-supper and bed-time?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Call Philostrate.
11PhilostrateHere, mighty Theseus.
12TheseusSay, what abridgement have you for this evening?
What masque? what music? How shall we beguile
The lazy time, if not with some delight?
13PhilostrateThere is a brief how many sports are ripe:
Make choice of which your highness will see first. Giving a paper.
14TheseusReads. “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.
Reads. “The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.”
That is an old device; and it was play’d
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
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.
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?
15PhilostrateA 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.
16TheseusWhat are they that do play it?
17PhilostrateHard-handed men that work in Athens here,
Which never labour’d in their minds till now,
And now have toil’d their unbreathed memories
With this same play against your nuptial.
18TheseusAnd we will hear it.
19PhilostrateNo, 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 stretch’d and conn’d with cruel pain,
To do you service.
20TheseusI 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. Exit Philostrate.
21HippolytaI love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged
And duty in his service perishing.
22TheseusWhy, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
23HippolytaHe says they can do nothing in this kind.
24TheseusThe 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 purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practised 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 pick’d 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.
25Reenter Philostrate.
26PhilostrateSo please your grace, the Prologue is address’d.
27TheseusLet him approach. Flourish of trumpets.
28Enter Quince for the Prologue.
29PrologueIf 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.
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.
30TheseusThis fellow doth not stand upon points.
31LysanderHe 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.
32HippolytaIndeed he hath played on his prologue like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.
33TheseusHis speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?
34Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion.
35PrologueGentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
This beauteous lady, Thisby is certain.
This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content
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 Thisby, 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 Thisby’s mantle slain:
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast;
And Thisby, 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 Prologue, Pyramus, Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine.
36TheseusI wonder if the lion be to speak.
37DemetriusNo wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do.
38WallIn 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 Thisby,
Did whisper often very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show
That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
39TheseusWould you desire lime and hair to speak better?
40DemetriusIt is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
41Reenter Pyramus.
42TheseusPyramus draws near the wall: silence!
43PyramusO grim-look’d 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 Thisby’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 holds up his fingers.
Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!
But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!
Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
44TheseusThe wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
45PyramusNo, in truth, sir, he should not. “Deceiving me” is Thisby’s cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.
46Reenter Thisbe.
47ThisbeO wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me!
My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
48PyramusI see a voice: now will I to the chink,
To spy an I can hear my Thisby’s face.
Thisby!
49ThisbeMy love thou art, my love I think.
50PyramusThink what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace:
And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
51ThisbeAnd I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
52PyramusNot Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
53ThisbeAs Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
54PyramusO, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
55ThisbeI kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
56PyramusWilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
57Thisbe’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay. Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe.
58WallThus have I, Wall, my part dischargèd so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. Exit.
59TheseusNow is the mural down between the two neighbours.
60DemetriusNo remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.
61HippolytaThis is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
62TheseusThe best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
63HippolytaIt must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
64TheseusIf 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.
65Reenter Lion and Moonshine.
66LionYou, 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, one Snug the joiner, am
A lion-fell, nor else no lion’s dam;
For, if I should as lion come in strife
Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.
67TheseusA very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
68DemetriusThe very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.
69LysanderThis lion is a very fox for his valour.
70TheseusTrue; and a goose for his discretion.
71DemetriusNot so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
72TheseusHis discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.
73MoonshineThis lantern doth the horned moon present;—
74DemetriusHe should have worn the horns on his head.
75TheseusHe is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.
76MoonshineThis lantern doth the horned moon present;
Myself the man i’ the moon do seem to be.
77TheseusThis is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i’ the moon?
78DemetriusHe dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.
79HippolytaI am aweary of this moon: would he would change!
80TheseusIt 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.
81LysanderProceed, Moon.
82MoonshineAll that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.
83DemetriusWhy, all these should be in the lantern; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.
84Enter Thisbe.
85ThisbeThis is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
86LionRoaring. O—Thisbe runs off.
87DemetriusWell roared, Lion.
88TheseusWell run, Thisbe.
89HippolytaWell shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. The Lion shakes Thisbe’s mantle, and exit.
90TheseusWell moused, Lion.
91LysanderAnd so the lion vanished.
92DemetriusAnd then came Pyramus.
93Reenter Pyramus.
94PyramusSweet 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 Thisby sight.
But stay, O spite!—
But mark, poor knight,
What dreadful dole is here!
Eyes, do you see?
How can it be?
O dainty duck! O dear!
Thy mantle good,
What, stain’d with blood?
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
95TheseusThis passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
96HippolytaBeshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
97PyramusO, wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
Since lion vile hath here deflower’d 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: 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. Dies.
98DemetriusNo die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
99LysanderLess than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.
100TheseusWith the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass.
101HippolytaHow chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
102TheseusShe will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.
103Reenter Thisbe.
104HippolytaMethinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.
105DemetriusA mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.
106LysanderShe hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
107DemetriusAnd thus she means, videlicet:—
108ThisbeAsleep, 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: Stabs herself.
And, farewell, friends;
Thus Thisby ends:
Adieu, adieu, adieu. Dies.
109TheseusMoonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
110DemetriusAy, and Wall too.
111BottomStarting up. 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?
112TheseusNo 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.
113The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:
Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.
I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn
As much as we this night have overwatch’d.
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.
114Enter Puck.
115PuckNow the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman 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,
Everyone lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way 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 hallow’d house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
116Enter Oberon and Titania with their train.
117OberonThrough 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.
118TitaniaFirst, 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.
119OberonNow, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed 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, hare lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised 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 it in safety rest.
Trip away; make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day. Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train.
120PuckIf we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d 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 unearned 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.