The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 377

THESEUS. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

DEMETRIUS. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.

LYSANDER. This lion is a very fox for his valour.

THESEUS. True; and a goose for his discretion.

DEMETRIUS. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

THESEUS. His 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.

MOONSHINE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present- DEMETRIUS. He should have worn the horns on his head.

THESEUS. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circ.u.mference.

MOONSHINE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; Myself the Man i' th' Moon do seem to be.

THESEUS. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man should be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i' th' moon?

DEMETRIUS. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.

HIPPOLYTA. I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!

THESEUS. 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.

LYSANDER. Proceed, Moon.

MOON. All that I have to say is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the Man i' th' Moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.

DEMETRIUS. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for all these are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisby.

Re-enter THISBY

THISBY. This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love?

LION. [Roaring] O- [THISBY runs off]

DEMETRIUS. Well roar'd, Lion.

THESEUS. Well run, Thisby.

HIPPOLYTA. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. [The LION tears THISBY'S Mantle, and exit]

THESEUS. Well mous'd, Lion.

Re-enter PYRAMUS

DEMETRIUS. And then came Pyramus.

LYSANDER. And so the lion vanish'd.

PYRAMUS. 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 Thisby sight.

But stay, O spite!

But mark, poor knight, What dreadful dole is here!

Eyes, do you see?

How can it he?

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.

THESEUS. This pa.s.sion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

HIPPOLYTA. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

PYRAMUS. O 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 liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd 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]

DEMETRIUS. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.

LYSANDER. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

THESEUS. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover and yet prove an a.s.s.

HIPPOLYTA. How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisby comes back and finds her lover?

Re-enter THISBY

THESEUS. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her pa.s.sion ends the play.

HIPPOLYTA. Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus; I hope she will be brief.

DEMETRIUS. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisby, is the better- he for a man, G.o.d warrant us: She for a woman, G.o.d bless us!

LYSANDER. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

DEMETRIUS. And thus she moans, videlicet:- THISBY. 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 sh.o.r.e 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]

THESEUS. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

DEMETRIUS. Ay, and Wall too.

BOTTOM. [Starting up] No, I a.s.sure 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?

THESEUS. 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 hang'd himself in Thisby's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy. And so it is, truly; and very notably discharg'd. 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 out-sleep the coming morn, As much as we this night have overwatch'd.

This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.

A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity. Exeunt

Enter PUCK with a broom

PUCK. Now 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, Every one 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 hallowed house.

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

Enter OBERON and t.i.tANIA, with all their train

OBERON. 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.tANIA. First, rehea.r.s.e your song by rote, To each word a warbling note; Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we sing, and bless this place.

[OBERON leading, the FAIRIES sing and dance]

OBERON. Now, 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 in safety rest.

Trip away; make no stay; Meet me all by break of day. Exeunt all but PUCK PUCK. If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumb'red here While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend.