Reading Help A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
LYSANDER. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends- `
` HERMIA. O hell! to choose love by another's eyes. `
` LYSANDER. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, `
` War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, `
` Making it momentary 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. `
` HERMIA. If then true lovers have ever cross'd, `
` 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. `
` LYSANDER. 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. `
` 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 to-morrow 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. `
` HERMIA. 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 burn'd the Carthage Queen, `
` When the false Troyan 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, `
` To-morrow truly will I meet with thee. `
` LYSANDER. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena. `
` `
` Enter HELENA `
` `
` HERMIA. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? `
` HELENA. Call you me fair? That fair again unsay. `
` Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair! `
` Your eyes are lode-stars and your tongue's sweet air `
` More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, `
` When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. `
` Sickness is catching; O, were favour 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. `
` O, teach me how you look, and with what art `
` You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart! `
` HERMIA. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. `
` HELENA. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! `
` HERMIA. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. `
` HELENA. O that my prayers could such affection move! `
` HERMIA. The more I hate, the more he follows me. `
` HELENA. The more I love, the more he hateth me. `
` HERMIA. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. `
` HELENA. None, but your beauty; would that fault were mine! `
` HERMIA. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face; `
` Lysander and myself will fly this place. `
` Before the time I did Lysander see, `
` Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me. `
` O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, `
` That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell! `
` LYSANDER. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: `
` To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold `
` Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, `
` Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, `
` A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal, `
` Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. `
` HERMIA. 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. `
` LYSANDER. I will, my Hermia. [Exit HERMIA] Helena, adieu; `
` As you on him, Demetrius dote on you. Exit `
` HELENA. 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 wing'd Cupid painted blind. `
` 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 beguil'd. `
` As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, `
` So the boy Love is perjur'd everywhere; `
` For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne, `
` He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine; `
` And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, `
` So he dissolv'd, and show'rs of oaths did melt. `
` I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight; `
` Then to the wood will he to-morrow 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 `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE II. `
` Athens. QUINCE'S house `
` `
` Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING `
` `
` QUINCE. Is all our company here? `
` BOTTOM. You were best to call them generally, man by man, `
` according `
` to the scrip. `
` QUINCE. Here is the scroll of every man's name which is thought `
` fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the `
` Duke `
` and the Duchess on his wedding-day at night. `
` BOTTOM. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; `
` then `
` read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point. `
` QUINCE. Marry, our play is 'The most Lamentable Comedy and most `
` Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisby.' `
` BOTTOM. 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. `
` QUINCE. Answer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. `
` BOTTOM. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. `
` QUINCE. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. `
` BOTTOM. What is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant? `
` QUINCE. A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love. `
` BOTTOM. 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 `
` humour 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. `
` QUINCE. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. `
` FLUTE. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. Flute, you must take Thisby on you. `
` FLUTE. What is Thisby? A wand'ring knight? `
` QUINCE. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. `
` FLUTE. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard `
` coming. `
` QUINCE. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you `
` may `
` speak as small as you will. `
` BOTTOM. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too. `
` I'll speak in a monstrous little voice: 'Thisne, Thisne!' `
` [Then speaking small] 'Ah Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy `
` Thisby dear, and lady dear!' `
` QUINCE. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisby. `
` BOTTOM. Well, proceed. `
` QUINCE. Robin Starveling, the tailor. `
` STARVELING. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. `
` Tom Snout, the tinker. `
` SNOUT. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug, `
` the `
` joiner, you, the lion's part. And, I hope, here is a play `
` fitted. `
` SNUG. Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, `
` give it `
` me, for I am slow of study. `
` QUINCE. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. `
` BOTTOM. Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will do `
`
` HERMIA. O hell! to choose love by another's eyes. `
` LYSANDER. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, `
` War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, `
` Making it momentary 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. `
` HERMIA. If then true lovers have ever cross'd, `
` 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. `
` LYSANDER. 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. `
` 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 to-morrow 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. `
` HERMIA. 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 burn'd the Carthage Queen, `
` When the false Troyan 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, `
` To-morrow truly will I meet with thee. `
` LYSANDER. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena. `
` `
` Enter HELENA `
` `
` HERMIA. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? `
` HELENA. Call you me fair? That fair again unsay. `
` Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair! `
` Your eyes are lode-stars and your tongue's sweet air `
` More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, `
` When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. `
` Sickness is catching; O, were favour 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. `
` O, teach me how you look, and with what art `
` You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart! `
` HERMIA. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. `
` HELENA. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! `
` HERMIA. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. `
` HELENA. O that my prayers could such affection move! `
` HERMIA. The more I hate, the more he follows me. `
` HELENA. The more I love, the more he hateth me. `
` HERMIA. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. `
` HELENA. None, but your beauty; would that fault were mine! `
` HERMIA. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face; `
` Lysander and myself will fly this place. `
` Before the time I did Lysander see, `
` Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me. `
` O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, `
` That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell! `
` LYSANDER. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: `
` To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold `
` Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, `
` Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, `
` A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal, `
` Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. `
` HERMIA. 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. `
` LYSANDER. I will, my Hermia. [Exit HERMIA] Helena, adieu; `
` As you on him, Demetrius dote on you. Exit `
` HELENA. 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 wing'd Cupid painted blind. `
` 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 beguil'd. `
` As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, `
` So the boy Love is perjur'd everywhere; `
` For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne, `
` He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine; `
` And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, `
` So he dissolv'd, and show'rs of oaths did melt. `
` I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight; `
` Then to the wood will he to-morrow 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 `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE II. `
` Athens. QUINCE'S house `
` `
` Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING `
` `
` QUINCE. Is all our company here? `
` BOTTOM. You were best to call them generally, man by man, `
` according `
` to the scrip. `
` QUINCE. Here is the scroll of every man's name which is thought `
` fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the `
` Duke `
` and the Duchess on his wedding-day at night. `
` BOTTOM. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; `
` then `
` read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point. `
` QUINCE. Marry, our play is 'The most Lamentable Comedy and most `
` Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisby.' `
` BOTTOM. 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. `
` QUINCE. Answer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. `
` BOTTOM. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. `
` QUINCE. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. `
` BOTTOM. What is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant? `
` QUINCE. A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love. `
` BOTTOM. 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 `
` humour 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. `
` QUINCE. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. `
` FLUTE. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. Flute, you must take Thisby on you. `
` FLUTE. What is Thisby? A wand'ring knight? `
` QUINCE. It is the lady that Pyramus must love. `
` FLUTE. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard `
` coming. `
` QUINCE. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you `
` may `
` speak as small as you will. `
` BOTTOM. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too. `
` I'll speak in a monstrous little voice: 'Thisne, Thisne!' `
` [Then speaking small] 'Ah Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy `
` Thisby dear, and lady dear!' `
` QUINCE. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisby. `
` BOTTOM. Well, proceed. `
` QUINCE. Robin Starveling, the tailor. `
` STARVELING. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. `
` Tom Snout, the tinker. `
` SNOUT. Here, Peter Quince. `
` QUINCE. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug, `
` the `
` joiner, you, the lion's part. And, I hope, here is a play `
` fitted. `
` SNUG. Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, `
` give it `
` me, for I am slow of study. `
` QUINCE. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. `
` BOTTOM. Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will do `
`