Is only Helena. To her, my Lord, Thef. Fair Lovers, you are fortunately met; Come Hippolita. [Exit Duke and Lords. Dem. Thefe Things feem fmall and undistinguishable, Like far-off Mountains turned into Clouds. Her. Methinks I fee these things with parted Eye, When every Thing feems double. Hel. So methinks; And I have found Demetrius like a Jewel; Mine own, and not mine own. Dem. It feems fo to me, That we fleep, we dream. Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him? Her. Yea, and my Father. Hel. And Hippolita. Lyf. And he bid us follow to the Temple. Dem. Why then we are awake; let's follow him, and by the Way let us recount our Dreams. [Exeunt. [Bottom wakes. Bot. When my Cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is, Moft fair Pyramus---Hey ho, Peter Quince! Flute the Bellows-mender! Snout the Tinker! Starveling! God's my Life! Stol'n hence, and left me afleep. I have had a most rare Vifion. I had a Dream paft the Wit of Man to fay what Dream it was: Man is but an Afs 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 patch'd Fool, if he will offer to fay what methought methought I had. The Eye of Man hath not heard, the Ear of Man hath not feen; Man's Hand is not able to tafte, 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 call'd Bottom's Dream, because it hath no Bottom; and I will fing it in the latter End of a Play before the Duke: Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I fhall fing it at her Death. [Exit. Enter Quince, Flute, Thisby, Snowt and Starveling. Quin. Have you fent to Bottom's Houfe? Is he come Home yet? Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is tranf ported. This. If he come not, then the Play is marr'd. It goes forward, doth it? Quin. It is not poffible; you have not a Man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he. Thif. No, he hath fimply the best Wit of any Handycraft Man in Athens. Quin. Yea, and the best Person too; and he is a very Pa→ ramour for a fweet Voice. This. You must fay, Paragon; a Paramour is (God bless us) a Thing of naught. Enter Snug. Snug. Mafters, 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. This. O fweet Bully Bottom; thus hath he loft Six pence a Day during his Life; he could not have 'scaped Six pence a Day; and the Duke had not given him Six pence a Day for Playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd: He would have deferv'd it. Six pence a Day in Pyramus, or nothing. Enter Bottom. Bot. Where are thefe Lads? Where are thefe Hearts? Quin. Bottom, O most couragious Day! O most happy Hour! Bot. Mafters, I am to discourse Wonders; but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing as it fell out. Quin. Let us hear, fweet Bottom. Bot. Not a Word of me; all 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 prefently at the Palace, every Man look o'er his Part; for the fhort and the long is, our Play is preferred: In any cafe let Thisby have clean Linnen; and let not him that plays the Lion pare his Nails, for they fhall hang out for the Lion's Claws; and moft dear Actors, eat no Onions, nor Garlick, for we are to utter fweet Breath; and I do not doubt to hear them fay, it is a fweet Comedy. No more Words; away, go a way. ACT V. SCENE I. [Exeunt. Enter Thefeus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords. Hip. "TIS IS ftrange, my Thefeus, that thefe Lovers fpeak of. The Lunatick, the Lover, and the Poet, One fees more Devils than vaft Hell can hold; That is the Madman. The Lover, all as frantick, Sees Helen's Beauty in a Brow of Egypt. The Poet's Eye in a fine Frenzy rowling, Doth glance from Heav'n to Earth, from Earth to Heav'n: And as Imagination bodies forth the Forms of Things And gives to Airy Nothing a local Habitation, Hp Hip. But all the Story of the Night told over, And grows to fomething of great Conftancy; Enter Lyfander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Thef. Here come the Lovers, full of Joy and Mirth. Joy, gentle Friends, Joy and fresh days of Love Accompany your Hearts. Lyf. More than to us, Wait on your Royal Walks, your Board, your Bed. To wear away this long Age of three Hours, Ege. Here, mighty Thefeus. Thef. Say, what Abridgement have you for this Evening? What Mask? What Mufick? How fhall we beguile The lazy time, if not with some Delight? Ege. There is a Brief how many Sports are rife: Make choice of which your Highness will fee firft. Lyf. The Battel with the Centaur, to be fung By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harp. Thef. We'll none of that. That have I told my Love, In glory of my Kinfman Hercules. Lyf. The Riot of the tipfie Bachanals, Tearing the Thracian Singer in their Rage. Thef. That is an old Device, and it was plaid When I from Thebes came laft a Conqueror. Lyf. The thrice three Mufes, mourning for the Death of Learning, late deceas'd in Beggary. Thef. That is fome Satyr keen and critical, Thef Thef. Merry and Trágical? Tedious and Brief? That is, hot Ice, and wondrous ftrange Snow. How fhall we find the Concord of this Difcord? Ege. A Play there is, my Lord, fome ten Words long, Ege. Hard-handed Men, that work in Athens here, And now have toiled their unbreathed Memories Thef. And we will hear it. n Ege. No, my Noble Lord, it is not for you. I have heard Extremely ftretch'd, and conn'd with cruel Pain, Thef. I will hear that Play: For never any thing Thef. Why, gentle Sweet, you fhall fee no fuch thing. Hip. He fays they can do nothing in this kind. Thef. The kinder we, to give them Thanks for nothing. Our Sport fhall be, to take what they mistake; And what poor Duty cannot do, noble Respect Where I have come, great Clerks have purposed E And |