Are we all met?

Pat, pat; and here’s a marvellous 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.

Peter Quince?

What sayest thou, bully Bottom?

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?

By’r lakin, a parlous fear.

I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

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 Pyramus is not killed indeed; and for the more better assurance, tell them that I Pyramus am not Pyramus but Bottom the weaver. This will put them out of fear.

Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight and six.

No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.

Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?

I fear it, I promise you.

Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves, to bring in (God shield us!) a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. For there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to look to it.

Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.

Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion’s neck; and he himself 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.

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.

Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?

A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanack; find out moonshine, find out moonshine.

Yes, it doth shine that night.

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.

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

You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?

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; and let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisbe whisper.

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.

Speak, Pyramus.—Thisbe, stand forth.

Thisbe, the flowers of odious savours sweet

Odours, odours.

A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here!

Must I speak now?

Ay, marry, must you, For you must understand he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.

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.’

O, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.

If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine.

O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray, masters, fly, masters! Help!

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

O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on thee?

What do you see? You see an ass-head of your own, do you?

Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! Thou art translated.

[Waking.] What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays. The more the pity that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.

Ready.

And I.

And I.

And I.

Where shall we go?

Hail, mortal!

Hail!

Hail!

Hail!

I cry your worships mercy, heartily.—I beseech your worship’s name.

Cobweb.

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?

Peaseblossom.

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?

Mustardseed.

Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well. That same cowardly giant-like 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.