[♪ DRUMMING BEGINS]
♪ Thy laws, O God, are right
♪ Thy throne shall ev'ry stand
And Thy victorious gospel proves
♪ A sceptre in Thy hand
♪ Now make thy glory known
♪ Gird on Thy dreadful sword
♪ And ride in majesty, to spread
♪ The conquests of Thy word
♪ Fair bride, receive His love
♪ Forget thy father's house
♪ Forsake thy gods, thy idol gods
♪ And pay the Lord thy vows ♪
(♪ MUSIC STOPS)
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace.
Four happy days bring in Another moon,
But O, methinks, how slow That old moon wanes!
She lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame or a dowager
Long withering out a young man's revenue.
Four days will quickly Steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.
Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments.
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth.
Turn melancholy forth to funerals:
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword,
And won thy love doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.
EGEUS: Happy be Theseus, our renownèd duke!
Thanks, good Egeus. What is the news with thee?
Full of vexation come I, with complaint
Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord, This man hath my consent to marry her.
Stand forth, Lysander. And my gracious duke,
This man hath bewitch'd The bosom of my child.
Thou, thou, Lysander, Thou hast given her rhymes,
And interchanged love-tokens with my child.
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung
With feigning voice verses of feigning love,
And stolen the impression of her fantasy.
With bracelets of thy hair, Rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats
Messengers Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth
With cunning hast thou Filched my daughter's heart,
Turned her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness. And, my gracious duke,
Be it so she will not here before your grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:
As she is mine, I may dispose of her
Which shall be either to this gentleman
Or to her death, according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.
What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair maid:
To you your father should be as a god;
One who composed your beauties Yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax
By him imprinted and within his power
To leave the figure or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
So is Lysander.
In himself he is;
But in this kind, Wanting your father's voice,
The other must be held the worthier.
I would my father looked but with my eyes.
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concern my modesty,
In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
Either to die the death, or to abjure For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, Question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not To your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun,
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns To the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice-blessèd they That master so their blood
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
But earthlier happy is the rose distilled
Than that which, Withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwishèd yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
Take time to pause, And, by the next new moon
The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
For everlasting bond of fellowship
Upon that day either prepare to die the death
For disobedience to your father's will,
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would,
Or on Diana's altar to protest
For aye austerity and single life.
Relent, sweet Hermia; and, Lysander, yield
Thy crazèd title to my certain right.
You have her father's love, Demetrius.
Let me have Hermia's. Do you marry him.
Scornful Lysander, true he hath my love,
And what is mine my love shall render him.
And she is mine, and all my right of her
I do estate unto Demetrius.
I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
As well possessed. My love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly ranked
If not with vantage, as Demetrius'.
And, which is more than All these boasts can be
I am beloved of beauteous Hermia.
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
And Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
THESEUS: I must confess that I have heard so much. (AUDIENCE LAUGHS)
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
But, being over-full of self-affairs,
My mind did lose it. But, come, Demetrius;
And come, Egeus. You shall go with me.
I have some private schooling for you both.
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To fit your fancies to your father's will;
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
Which by no means we may extenuate
To death, or to a vow of single life.
Come, Hippolyta. What cheer, my love?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)
Demetrius and Egeus, go along:
I must employ you in some business Against our nuptial and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
EGEUS: With duty and desire we follow you.
DISTANT CHOIR: ♪ Fair bride, receive His love
♪ Forget thy Father's house ♪
How now, my love! Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
Ay me! For aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth;
– But, either it was different in blood. – O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low.
– Or else misgraffèd in respect of years. – O spite! Too old to be engaged to young.
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends.
O hell! To choose love by another's eyes.
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.
Well 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.
There we go.
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,
Thence to the wood, A league without the town,
There will I fly with thee.
My good Lysander,
I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke
To that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly I will fly with thee.
Keep promise, love.
Oh, here comes Helena. [CLEARS THROAT]
– God speed, fair Helena! Whither away? – [LYSANDER WHISTLES]
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.
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.
O that your frowns Would teach my smiles such skill!
– I give him curses, yet he gives me love. – O that my prayers could such affection move!
– The more I hate, the more he follows me. – The more I love, the more he hateth me.
His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
None, but your beauty. Would that fault were mine!
Well, take comfort: He no more shall see my face.
LYSANDER: A-herm!
Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold.
To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the watery glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
A time that lovers' flights Doth still conceal
Through Athens gates Have we devised to steal.
– Then to the wood, where often you and I – What?
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,
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.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)
Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.
I will, my Hermia.
Helena, adieu!
As you on him, Demetrius dote on you.
(LAUGHTER)
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.
For ere Demetrius looked on Hermia's eyne,
He hailed down oaths that he was only mine,
And when this hail some heat From Hermia felt,
So he dissolved, And showers 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.
Is all our company here?
COMPANY: Yes, Mistress.
You were best to call them generally, One by one, according to the script.
Here is the scroll of everyone'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.
First, good Mistress Quince, say what the play treats on,
then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.
(LAUGHTER)
Marry, our play is
The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe.
A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.
Now, good Mistress Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll.
Neighbours, spread yourselves.
Answer as I call you.
Nick Bottom the weaver.
– What? Me? – Yes.
All right. Okay.
[CLEARS THROAT, CHUCKLES]
Sorry, I didn't expect that. I didn't expect that. I'm sorry.
Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
Yes!
What is Pyramus? A lover or a tyrant?
A lover that kills himself most gallant for love.
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.
To the rest...
Yet my chief humour is for a tyrant.
I could play Hercules 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
[GRAVELLY VOICE] 'The foolish Fates.'
This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
This is Hercules' vein, a tyrant's vein.
A lover is more condoling.
Francis Flute the bellows-mender.
Here, Mistress.
Francis, you must take Thisbe on you.
What is Thisbe? A wandering knight?
It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
(LAUGHTER)
Nay, faith, let me not play a woman. I have a beard coming. Look.
That's all one, you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.
An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too.
I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
'Thisne, Thisne!'
'Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear!
'Thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear!'
That's ridiculous.
No, no, you must play Pyramus. And, Flute, you Thisbe.
– Well, proceed. – Robin Starveling the tailor?
Here, Mistress Quince.
Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe's mother.
Obviously!
– Sit down. Sit down. – Robin, sit down.
Sit down, man. It's a good part. It's a good part. Don't worry.
Joan Snout the tinker?
Here, Mistress Quince.
Joan Snout, you,
Pyramus' father;
Myself – Thisbe's father;
Snug the joiner,
Meg Snug?
Snug the joiner,
you, the lion's part.
(LAUGHTER)
And I hope here is a play fitted.
Mistress. Mistress.
Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.
[COUGHING]
You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
Mistress. Mistress. Mistress.
Let me play the lion, too.
I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me.
I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, 'Let him roar again.'
[SCREAMS]
An you should do it too terribly,
you would fright the Duchess and the ladies that they would shriek,
and that were enough to hang us all.
That would hang us, every mother's son.
Neighbours, I grant you,
if you should fright the ladies out of their wits,
they would have no more discretion but to hang us.
But I will aggravate my voice
so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove.
I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.
♪ Roar ♪
Who is he? Simba?
You can play no part but Pyramus.
For Pyramus is a sweet-faced man...
No, no, no.
A proper man as one shall see in a summer's day.
A most lovely gentlemanlike man.
Therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
Well I will undertake it.
[DISTANT VOICES]
[BELL TOLLING]
Neighbours, here are your parts,
and I am to entreat you, request you and desire you,
– to con them by to-morrow night. – BOTTOM: No problem.
And meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight.
There we will rehearse, for if we meet in the city,
we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known.
In the meantime, I will draw a list of properties such as our play wants.
I pray you, fail me not.
We will meet,
and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.
Take pains, be perfect. Adieu!
Goodbye, neighbours.
At the duke's oak we meet.
Enough. Hold or cut bow-strings.
[WHISPERS INAUDIBLY]
[SPEECH INAUDIBLE]
[MANIACAL LAUGH]
Oi! Fairies!
How now, spirit! Whither wander you?
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere
Oh.
– Swifter than the moon's sphere. – [CACKLES]
And I serve the Fairy King...
Oh, yeah.
To dew his orbs with nimble wing.
The cowslips tall his pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours.
I must go seek some dewdrops here
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone.
Our King and all his elves come here anon.
A-ha!
The Queen doth keep her revels here to-night.
Take heed the King come not within her sight:
Titania is passing fell and wrath,
Because that he as his attendant hath
A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king.
He never had so sweet a changeling,
And now Titania would have the child
Knight of her train, To trace the forests wild.
But he perforce withholds the lovèd boy,
Crowns him with flowers And makes him all his joy.
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, Or spangled starlight sheen,
But they do square, That all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd And knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow.
Ha-ha-ha!
Are not you he That frights the maidens of the villagery...
Yeah, I do do that, yeah.
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
And bootless make The breathless housewife churn...
LOL.
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
Mislead night-wanderers, Laughing at their harm?
Those that 'Hobgoblin' call you And 'Sweet Puck',
You do their work, And they shall have good luck.
– Are not you he? – Thou speak'st aright:
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I serve Titania and make her smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal;
And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale. Oh.
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum. Down topples she,
And 'Tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire Hold their hips and laugh,
And waxen in their mirth and sneeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But, room, spirit: here comes Oberon.
And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania!
What, jealous Oberon?
– Jealous? – Fairies, skip hence.
I have forsworn his bed and company.
Tarry, rash wanton! Am I not thy lord?
Then I must be thy lady.
But I know When thou hast stolen away from Fairyland,
And in the shape of Corin sat all day
Playing on pipes of corn and versing love To amorous Phillida.
Why art thou here Come from the farthest steep of India?
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
Your buskined mistress and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
To give their bed joy and prosperity.
How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
Didst thou not lead him Through the glimmering night
From Perigenia, whom he ravishèd?
And make him with fair Aegle break his faith,
With Ariadne and Antiopa?
These are the forgeries of jealousy.
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By pavèd fountain or by rushy brook,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls Thou hast disturbed our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have sucked up from the sea
Contagious fogs, which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents.
The ox hath therefore Stretched his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat,
And the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard.
The fold stands empty in the drownèd field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock.
The nine men's morris is filled up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green For lack of tread are undistinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter cheer;
But no night is now with hymn or carol blest.
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound;
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is as in mockery set.
The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, they change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazèd world, By their increase, knows not which is which.
And this same progeny of evils...
It comes from our debate, from our dissension.
We are their parents and original.
Do you amend it, then! It lies in you.
Why should proud Oberon cross Titania?
I do but beg a little changeling boy, To be my henchman.
Set your heart at rest:
The fairy land buys not the child of me.
His mother was a votaress of my order...
And, in the spicèd Indian air, by night
Full often hath she gossiped by my side,
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sand,
Marking the embarkèd traders on the flood.
And we have laughed to see the sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
Following,
Her womb then rich with my young squire
Would imitate, and sail upon the land
To fetch me trifles, and return again
As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die...
And for her sake do I rear up her boy;
And for her sake I will not part with him.
How long within this wood intend you stay?
Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
If you will patiently dance in our round
And see our moonlit revels, go with us.
If not, shun me, And I will spare your haunts.
Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
Not for my fairy kingdom!
Fairies, away!
We will chide downright if I longer stay.
Well, go thy way.
Thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury.
My gentle Puck, come hither.
Thou rememberest Since once I sat upon a promontory
And saw a mermaid on a dolphin's back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars Shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music?
Yeah, I remember.
That very time I saw, but thou couldst not
Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
– Cupid all armed. – No!
A certain aim he took
At a fair vestal thronèd by the west,
And loosed his love-shaft Smartly from his bow.
As it should pierce A hundred thousand hearts;
But I could see young Cupid's fiery shaft
Quenched in the chaste beams Of the watery moon,
And the imperial votaress passed on
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Oh.
Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, Now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it 'love-in-idleness'.
Love-in-idleness.
Fetch me that flower The herb I showed thee once.
The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
– [LAUGHING] Yes! – Fetch me that herb, and see thou here again
Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
I'll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
Crowd-surf!
Woo!
Having once this juice
I'll find out Oberon when he is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in his eyes.
The next thing then he waking looks upon
Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,
He shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm from off his sight
As I can take it with another herb
I'll make him render up his page to me.
DEMETRIUS: I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
But who comes here?
I am invisible.
Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
Thou told'st me They were stolen unto this wood.
And I will overhear their conference.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant!
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is as true as steel.
Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?
And even for that do I love you the more.
I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you.
Use me but as your spaniel, Spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
What worser place can I beg in your love
And yet a place of high respect with me
Than to be used as you use your dog?
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
For I am sick when I do look on thee.
And I am sick when I look not on you.
You do impeach your modesty too much,
To leave the city and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not;
To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place
With the rich worth of your virginity.
Your virtue is my privilege.
For that it is not night When I do see your face,
Therefore I think I am not in the night;
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
For you in my respect are all the world.
I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
Run when you will, The story shall be changed:
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase.
I will not stay thy questions. Let me go;
Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
You do me mischief.
What's wrong with you?
Demetrius?
Aaagh!
Fie, Demetrius, Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex.
We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
We should be woo'd and were not made to woo.
I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.
Fare thee well, nymph: Ere he do leave this grove
Thou shalt fly him And he shall seek thy love.
Welcome, wanderer.
– Hast thou the flower there? – Ay.
Oh, what have I done with that now?
Now just... Ah! [CHUCKLES]
– There it is. – I pray thee, give it me.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows;
Where oxlips
And the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses
And with eglantine.
There slumbers Oberon sometime of the night,
Lulled in these flowers With dances and delight.
And there the snake Throws her enamelled skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
And with the juice of this I'll streak his eyes
And make him full of hateful fantasies.
[BOTH LAUGHING]
– Take thou some of it. – Yeah.
And seek through this grove.
A sweet Athenian lady is in love With a disdainful youth, anoint his eyes;
But do it so the next thing he espies Might be the lady.
Thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Effect it with some care, that he may prove
– More fond on her than she upon her love. – Got ya.
And look thou Meet me ere the next cock crow.
Fear not, my queen, your servant shall do so.
[OWL HOOTS]
Come, now
A roundel and a fairy song,
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence:
You, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,
And you, War with black bats for their leathern wings,
– To make my small elves coats. – [OWL HOOTS]
And you, keep back the clamorous owl That nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits.
Sing me now to sleep;
And then to your offices
And let me rest.
♪ You spotted snakes, with double tongue
♪ Hissing serpents, hide your sting
♪ Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong
♪ Come not near our Fairy King
♪ Philomel, with melody
♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby
♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby
♪ Never harm Nor spell nor charm
♪ Come our lovely sovereign nigh
♪ So, good-night, with lullaby
♪ Good night, with lullaby
♪ Weaving spiders, come not here
♪ Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!
♪ Beetles black, approach not near
♪ Worm nor snail, do no offence
♪ Philomel, with melody
♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby
♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby
♪ Never harm Nor spell nor charm
♪ Come our lovely sovereign nigh
♪ So, good night, with lullaby
♪ Good night, with lullaby ♪
Hence, away!
Now all is well.
One aloof stand sentinel.
Oi! Fairy...
[PUCK CHUCKLES]
What thou seest when thou dost wake,
Do it for thy true love take;
Love and languish for its sake.
Be it lynx, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
When thou wak'st, it is thy dear.
Wake when some vile thing is near!
[GROANING, WAILING]
Fair love, You faint with wandering in the wood;
And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way.
What?
We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.
One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.
Nay, good Lysander, for my sake, my dear,
Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.
– O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! – Oh, come on!
Love takes the meaning in love's conference.
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit, So that but one heart we can make of it.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny, For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
– Lysander riddles very prettily. – What?
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride
– If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. – No.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
[SHOUTS] Lie further off, in human modesty:
Cool, cool, cool.
Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
(LAUGHTER)
So far be distant, And, good night, sweet friend;
Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!
Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I,
And then end life when I end loyalty!
– Here is my bed. – A-ha!
Sleep give thee all his rest!
With half that wish The wisher's eyes be pressed!
♪ Who is Hermia? What is she?
♪ That all our swains commend her
♪ Holy, fair and wise is she
♪ The heavens such grace did lend her
♪ That she might admirèd be ♪
Through the forest have I gone.
But Athenian found I none
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence!
Who is here?
Oh, weeds of Athens he doth wear.
This is he my mistress said
Despisèd the Athenian maid.
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
[TUTS]
Move.
(LAUGHTER)
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Oh! Sorry!
PUCK: You are in the way. Move.
Now, come on, I don't have all night.
Thank you.
– (LAUGHTER) – [TUTS]
Londoners!
(LAUGHTER)
Aw! Pretty soul, she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
I like your dungarees.
Move.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: I'm Irish!
(CHEERS, APPLAUSE)
Yeah, I like that.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid
So awake when I am gone;
I'll tell the queen of thee anon.
HELENA: Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius!
DEMETRIUS: I charge thee, Hence, and do not haunt me thus.
O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so!
Stay! Stay, on thy peril. I alone will go.
Excuse me.
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase.
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies,
For she hath blessèd and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears
If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers.
No, no,
I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius Do as a monster fly my presence thus.
But who is here?
Lysander! On the ground?
Dead?
Or asleep?
I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.
And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake!
Transparent Helena, nature shows her art,
That through thy bosom Makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name to perish on my sword!
Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.
Content with Hermia? No, I do repent
The tedious moments I with her have spent.
Not Hermia but Helena I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
♪ Who is Helena? What is she?
♪ That all our swains commend her
– ♪ Holy, fair and wise is she... ♪ – Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man
That I did never, no, nor never can Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong!
Good sooth, you do In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well. Perforce I must confess I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
O, that a lady, of one man refused.
Should of another therefore be abused!
Helena! Helena!
She sees not Hermia.
Hermia, sleep thou there,
And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
For as a surfeit to the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive,
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
Of all be hated, but the most of me!
And, all my powers, Address your love and might
To honour Helen and to be her knight!
Lysander!
Do thy best to pluck this crawling serpent From my breast!
Ay, me, for pity!
What a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear!
Methought a serpent ate my heart away,
And you, you sat smiling at his cruel prey.
Lysander.
What?
Removed?
Lysander? Lord?
[WINGS FLUTTER]
What, out of hearing? Gone?
No sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear.
Speak, of all loves!
I swoon almost with fear.
No?
Well...
Then I well perceive you are not nigh.
Either death or you I'll find immediately.
[CREATURES CALLING]
– 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.
Yeah, all right. Fine. Yeah.
– Mistress 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?
– Yeah, that's a problem. – Violent, yeah.
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. – Here we go.
And let the prologue seem to say that 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.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
I fear it, I promise you.
– Oh, lord. – Neighbours, neighbours,
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 't.
And therefore another prologue must tell she is not a lion?
Nay, you must name her name,
and half her face must be seen through the lion's neck,
then she herself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect: 'Ladies'.
Ladies.
– Or 'Fair ladies'. – Fair ladies.
– 'I would wish you...' – I would wish you.
– 'I would request you...' – Request you.
'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 woman as other women are'.
And there indeed let her name her name,
and tell them plainly she is Snug the joiner.
See, that's interesting.
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. – Calendar?
– A calendar. – Calendar.
– Oh! Calendar! – Calendar. Calendar.
Apple, Android... A calendar.
An iPhone?
Do you have a calendar?
Ah, yes, yes!
Got one, got one, got one.
Unlock your calendar, I beseech you.
(LAUGHTER, APPLAUSE)
Thank you.
Look in the almanac, find out moonshine, find out moonshine!
[ALL GASP]
Ooh.
[BOTTOM LAUGHING]
Twenty-fourth of June, twenty-fourth of June.
Yes, the moon doth shine that night.
Yes! Why, then, may you leave a casement of the...
[LAUGHS]
May you leave a casement of the great chamber window 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.
For this, we leave much thanks.
– STARVELLING: Bottom? Portrait. – Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
(LAUGHTER)
(CHEERS, APPLAUSE)
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.
No, no, no. You can never bring in a wall.
What say you, Bottom?
Someone or other must present Wall.
– No. – Yeah.
And let them have some loam, or some plaster,
or some rough-cast about them, to signify wall.
And let them hold their fingers thus.
Hey!
And through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisbe whisper.
If that may be, then all is well.
– Wall. – Wall.
[ALL ARGUING AT ONCE]
Come, sit down, every mother's child, and rehearse your parts.
Pyramus, you begin.
When you have spoken your speech,
enter into that brake, and so everyone according to his cue.
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here... [LAUGHS]
[BLOWS] ..so near the cradle of the fairy king?
Thisbe, stand forth.
PUCK: What...
..a play toward?
No, plays are boring!
I'll be an auditor.
An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.
Speak, Pyramus.
Thisbe, the flowers of odious savours sweet...
– 'Odours'! – Sorry?
– 'Odours'! – Sorry, sorry, sorry.
– [PUCK LAUGHING] – ...odours savours sweet.
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear.
But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,
And by and by I will to thee appear.
A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here.
[PUCK LAUGHING, SNORTS]
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.
Most radiant Pyramus,
Most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose On triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely jew,
As true as truest horse That yet would never tire,
I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
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.
My bad. It's my bad.
Pyramus enter, your cue is past. It is, 'never tire.'
As true as truest horse, That yet would never tire.
If I were fair, fair Thisbe, I were only thine.
[BRAYS]
O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted.
Pray, neighbours! Fly, neighbours!
I'll follow you!
Clear! Get out the way!
I'll lead you about a round,
Thorough bog, thorough bush, Thorough brake, thorough brier;
Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, And roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, At every turn.
Run, little man, run!
Wooooo!
Out of the way!
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.
[CHUCKLES]
I see their knavery!
This is to make an ass of me,
to fright me, if they could.
But I will not stir from this place, do what they can.
I will walk up and down here,
and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid.
[SCREAMS]
♪ The ousel cock so black of hue
♪ With orange-tawny bill
♪ The throstle with his note so true
♪ The wren with little quill ♪
[BRAYS]
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
♪ The finch, the sparrow and the lark
♪ The plain-song cuckoo gray
♪ Whose note full many a man doth mark
♪ And dares not answer 'nay' ♪
[BRAYS]
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again!
Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note.
So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape,
And thy fair virtue's force Perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear,
I love thee.
Methinks, master, 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 neighbour will not make them friends.
Nay, I can jest upon occasion.
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Oh, no, no, no.
Not so, neither;
but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood,
I have enough to serve mine own turn.
Out of this wood do not desire to go!
Thou shalt remain here, Whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate.
The summer still doth tend upon my state...
And I do love thee.
Therefore...
(LAUGHTER)
Go with me.
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
And they shall fetch thee jewels From the deep,
And sing whilst thou on pressèd flowers Dost sleep;
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
– Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth and Mustardseed! – Ready!
– And I! – And I!
– Where shall we go?
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman.
[ALL GASP]
Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, And mmmmulberries.
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes
To have my love to bed...
♪ And to arise! ♪
[BOTTOM LAUGHS]
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
– Hail, mortal! – Hail!
– Hail!
– BOTTOM: Hail!
– ALL: Hail! – [FAIRIES, BOTTOM LAUGH]
I cry your worship's mercy, heartily.
– I beseech your worship's name. – Cobweb.
Oh, I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb,
if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.
– Your name, honest gentlewoman? – Peaseblossom.
[LAUGHS]
I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother,
and to Master Peascod, your father. [LAUGHS]
Good Mistress Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too.
I love him!
[BOTTOM LAUGHING, BRAYING]
– Your name, I beseech you, sir? – Mustardseed. Ha-ha...
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well.
That same cowardly, giant-like Oxbeef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house.
I promise you, your kindred had made my eyes water ere now.
Really?
[SHRIEKS WITH LAUGHTER)
I shall desire your acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.
Merry mortal.
Agh! [LAUGHING, BRAYING]
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
And when she weeps, Weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforcèd chastity.
[BRAYING]
Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.
[♪ 'Love On Top' by Beyoncé]
♪ Honey, honey!
– ♪ I can see the stars all the way from here – [CHEERING]
♪ Can't you see the glow on the window pane?
♪ I can feel the sun whenever you're near
♪ Every time you touch me I just melt away
♪ Now everybody asks me why I'm smiling out from ear to ear
♪ They say love hurts But I know
♪ It's gonna take the real work
♪ Nothing's perfect but it's worth it
♪ After fighting through my tears
♪ And finally you put me first
♪ Baby it's you You're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Come on, baby, it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I can always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop
♪ Finally you put my love on top
♪ Ooh, baby
♪ You put my love on top
♪ Top, top, top
♪ Love on top
♪ Ooh, you're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only thing I see
♪ Come on baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop
♪ Finally you put my love on top
♪ Ooh, baby You're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Come on, baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need the earth to stop
♪ Finally, you put my love on top
♪ Baby, cos you're the one that I love
♪ Baby, you're the one that I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Baby, baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop Finally, you put my love on top
♪ Baby, cos you're the one that I love
♪ Baby, you're the one that I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Baby, it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all... ♪
(CHEERING, APPLAUSE)
(WHISTLES)
(HUM OF CONVERSATION)
[♪ ORCHESTRAL REPRIESE]
Fairies!
Jog on!
I wonder now if Oberon be awaked;
Then, what it was that next came in his eye,
Which he must dote on in extremity.
[CACKLES]
Miss! Miss! Miss!
Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit?
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
My master with a monster is in love.
[SQUEALS]
[LAUGHING]
BOTH: Oooh.
Near to his close and consecrated bower,
Whilst he was in his dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
The shallowest thick-skin Of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport..
An ass's nole I fixèd on his head.
Not finished.
Anon his Thisbe must be answerèd,
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly.
And I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there;
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Did Oberon wake, And straightway loved an ass.
[SQUEALS]
This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latched the Athenian's eyes With the love juice, as I did bid thee do?
I took him sleeping, that is finish'd too,
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That, when he waked, Of force she must be eyed.
– DEMETRIUS: Hermia! – Stand close. This is the same Athenian.
– Monster! – This is the woman, but not this the man.
O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,
For thou, I fear, Hast given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o'er shoes in blood, Plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me. Would he have stolen away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon
This whole earth may be bored, And the moon
May through the centre creep, and so displease
Her brother's noontide with the Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murdered him.
No way!
So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.
So should the murdered look, and so should I,
Pierced through the heart With your stern cruelty.
Yet you, the murderer, Look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
What's this to my Lysander? Where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou drivest me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience.
Hast thou slain him, then? Henceforth be never numbered among men!
You spend your passion on a misprised mood.
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood.
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
An if I could, what should I get therefore?
Oh, eh-up!
A privilege never to see me more.
And from thy hated presence part I so.
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
There is no following her In this fierce vein:
Here therefore for a while will I remain.
What hast thou done?
Thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love-juice On some true-love's sight.
– Oops. – Hm.
About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens look thou find.
No!
All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer
With sighs of love, That costs the fresh blood dear.
By some illusion see thou bring her here.
I'll charm his eyes against she do appear.
[GROANS]
I go.
Look how I go.
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
Flower of this purple dye,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye.
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.
Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand,
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Stand aside. The noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake.
Then will two at once woo one,
That must needs be sport alone;
And those things do best please me
That befal preposterously.
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Look, when I vow, I weep...
For God's sake!
..and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
You do advance your cunning more and more.
These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her o'er?
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Nor none in my mind now you give her o'er.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine...
Get in there!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy! O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, Tempting grow!
O spite! O hell!
I see you all are bent To set against me for your merriment
What?
If you were civil and knew courtesy You would not do me thus much injury.
– Can you not hate me, as I know you do... – Hate you?
But you must join in souls to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so,
To vow, and swear,
– And super-praise my parts... – I mean...
– When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. – No!
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena.
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes
– With your derision! – Ow!
None of noble sort Would so offend a virgin, and extort
A poor soul's patience, All to make you sport.
You, there!
You are unkind, Demetrius. Be not so,
For you love Hermia, this you know I know.
And here, with all good will, With all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part.
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love and will do till my death.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia. I will none:
If e'er I loved her all that love is gone.
My heart to her But as guest-wise sojourned...
Shut up, and kiss me!
[PUCK LAUGHING]
That's enough, boys.
And now to Helen is it home returned, There to remain.
Helen, it is not so.
HERMIA: Dark night, That from the eye his function takes...
– For God's sake. – The ear more quick of apprehension makes.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
Mine ear, I thank it, Brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Why should he stay Whom love doth press to go?
What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lysander's love, that would not let him bide:
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
– Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. – Lysander!
Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know,
The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?
You speak not as you think. It cannot be.
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoined all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspired, Have you with these contrived
– To bait me with this foul derision? – What? No!
Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
The sisters' vows, The hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time For parting us...
O, is it all forgot?
All school-days' friendship, Childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles Created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion...
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, sides, voices and minds
Had been incorporate.
[PUCK LAUGHING]
No!
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men In scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.
Our sex as well as I may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
I am amazed at your passionate words.
I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.
Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius,
Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
Precious, celestial?
Wherefore speaks he this To her he hates?
And wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection,
– But by your setting on, by your consent? – I understand not what you mean by this.
Come on, you need to stop this right now!
Ay, do! Persever, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up.
[TITANIA LAUGHING]
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument.
But fare ye well. 'Tis partly my own fault, Which death or absence soon shall remedy.
Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse:
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
O excellent!
Sweet, do not scorn her so.
If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
Thou canst compel no more than she entreat.
Thy threats have no more strength Than her weak prayers.
Helen... Helen?
– Helena? – Helena?
– Helen! – Helen.
– Helena! – Helen! Helen!
I'm here!
LYSANDER: I love thee. By my life, I do.
I swear by that which I will lose for thee To prove him false that says I love thee not.
I say I love thee more than he can do.
If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Quick, come!
Lysander, whereto tends all this?
Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!
Why are you grown so rude? What change is this? Sweet love...
Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out!
Loathèd medicine! Hated potion, hence!
Do you not jest?
Yes, sooth; and so do you.
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
I would I had your bond, for I perceive
A weak bond holds you. I'll trust not your word.
– Stay! – What, should I hurt her, strike her,
Kill her dead?
Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.
What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
Hate me? Wherefore? O me, what news, my love?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
Since night you loved me; Yet since night you left me:
Why, then... O, the gods forbid! In earnest, shall I say?
Ay, by my life; And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, doubt;
Be certain, nothing truer: 'tis no jest
That I do hate thee and love Helena.
O me, you juggler.
You canker-blossom!
You thief of love! What, have you come by night
And stol'n my love's heart from him?
Fine, i'faith!
Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness?
What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit,
– you puppet, you! – Ooh!
Puppet? Why so?
Ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare Between our statures.
She hath urged her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, you know, she hath prevailed with him.
And are you grown so high in his esteem
Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
Well, how low am I, thou painted maypole?
Speak!
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me.
I was never curst,
I have no gift at all in shrewishness.
I am a right maid for my cowardice!
Let her not strike me.
You perhaps may think,
Because she is something lower than myself,
That I can match her.
Lower? Hark, again!
You better pour your mind no further. I'll knock your fucking teeth out.
Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
I evermore did love you, Hermia;
Did ever keep your counsels, Never wronged you,
Save that, in love unto Demetrius
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He followed you. For love I followed him.
But he hath chid me hence and threatened me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too.
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back And follow you no further.
Let me go, you're pathetic.
(LAUGHTER, CHEERS)
You see how simple and how fond I am.
– Why, get you gone! Who is't that hinders you? – A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.
– What, with Lysander? – With Demetrius!
Aaagghhh!
She bit me!
Be not afraid; She shall not harm thee, Helena.
No, sir. She shall not, Though you take her part.
O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd.
She was a vixen when she went to school,
And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Little again? Nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.
Get you gone, you dwarf;
You minimus of hindering knot-grass made,
You bead, you acorn.
You are too officious
In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone.
Now she holds me not;
Now follow, if thou darest, To see whose right
Of thine or mine is most in Helena.
Follow! nay, I'll go with thee, Cheek by jowl.
Come on!
You, mistress – all this coil is 'long of you.
No, go not back.
I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though, to run away!
I am amazed, and know not what to say.
This is thy negligence.
Still thou mistakest,
– Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully. – No!
Believe me, Queen of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me I should know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprise,
That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes.
And so far I am glad it so did sort,
As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
Thou seest these lovers seek A place to fight.
Yeah.
Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night.
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog as black as Acheron,
And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another's way.
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
And stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong,
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
And from each other look thou lead them thus
Till o'er their brows Death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.
Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye,
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from hence all error with its might,
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision.
Whiles I in this affair do thee employ
I'll to my King and beg his Indian boy,
And then I will his charmèd eye release
From monster's view, And all things shall be peace.
My Fairy Queen, this must be done with haste,
For night's swift dragons Cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger,
At whose approach...
Ghosts.
Wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards.
Damnèd spirits all That in crossways and floods have burial
Already to their wormy beds are gone.
For fear lest day should look Their shames upon,
They wilfully exile themselves from light...
And must for aye consort With black-browed night.
No. No...
But we are spirits of another sort.
I with the morning's love Have oft made sport,
And like a forester the groves may tread
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessèd beams
Turns into yellow gold His salt green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay;
We may effect this business yet ere day.
But...
[POUNDING DRUMBEAT]
Right.
Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down.
I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
Here comes one.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.
[AS DISTANT DEMETRIUS] Here, villain, drawn and ready! Where art thou?
LYSANDER: I will be with thee straight.
[AS DISTANT DEMETRIUS] Follow me then To plainer ground.
DEMETRIUS: Lysander, speak again.
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
[AS DISTANT LYSANDER] Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes That thou look'st for wars,
And wilt not come?
Come, recreant. Come, thou child,
– I'll whip thee with a rod! – DEMETRIUS: Yea, art thou there?
[AS DISTANT LYSANDER] Follow my voice. We'll try no manhood here.
He goes before me and still he dares me on;
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter-heeled than I.
I followed fast, but faster he did fly,
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day,
For if but once thou show me thy grey light
I'll find Demetrius and revenge this spite.
[AS DISTANT DEMETRIUS] Coward! Why comest thou not?
– LYSANDER: Where art thou now? – Come hither: I am here.
Nay, then, thou mock'st me.
Thou shalt buy this dear
If ever I thy face by daylight see.
Now, go thy way.
Faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on this cold bed.
By day's approach look to be visited.
[GASPS]
O weary night! O long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours, Shine comforts from the East,
That I may back to Athens by daylight
From these that my poor company detest.
And sleep, That sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me awhile from mine own company.
PUCK: Yet but three? Come one more,
Two of both kinds make up four.
[LAUGHS] Aw.
Here she comes, curst and sad.
Cupid is a knavish lad
Thus to make poor females mad.
Never so weary, never so in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers,
I can no further crawl, no further go.
My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
Here will I rest me till the break of day.
Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!
Aw!
On the ground Sleep sound.
I'll apply To your eye
Gentle lover, remedy.
When thou wak'st Thou tak'st
True delight In the sight
Of thy former lady's eye:
And the country proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
In your waking shall be shown.
Jack shall have Jill;
[CHUCKLES] Nought shall go ill;
♪ The man shall have his mare again, And all shall be well ♪
[MUSIC STARTS]
♪ Oooh
♪ Ooh
Hi.
♪ Philomel, with melody (CHEERS, APPLAUSE)
♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby
♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby
♪ Never harm Nor spell, nor charm
♪ Come our lovely sovereign nigh
♪ So, good night, with lullaby
♪ Good night, with lullaby
♪ Philomel
♪ With melody
♪ And lullaby ♪
(CHEERS, APPLAUSE)
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed
Whilst I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek, Smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large...
(LAUGHTER)
– ..ears. – [LAUGHS]
O, my gentle joy.
[BRAYING]
Where's Peaseblossom?
Ready.
Scratch my head, Peaseblossom.
Where's Monsieur Cobweb?
Ready.
Monsieur Cobweb, good Monsieur,
get you your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped
humble-bee on the top of a thistle.
And... Oh, okay. I like that. That's good, keep going.
And, Monsieur, bring me the honey-bag.
Do not fret yourself too much in the action, Monsieur.
And, good Monsieur,
have a care the honey-bag break not,
I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signor.
[BRYAING]
Where's Monsieur Mustardseed?
Ready.
Give me your fist, Monsieur Mustardseed.
Pray you...
(LAUGHTER)
..leave your courtesy, good Monsieur.
What's your will?
Nothing, but to help Peaseblossom to scratch.
I must to the barber's, Monsieur,
for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.
And I am such a tender ass,
if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
I have a reasonable good ear in music.
Let's have the tongs and the bones.
Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Truly, a peck of provender.
I could munch your good dry oats.
Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay.
Good hay, sweet hay hath no fellow.
I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard,
and fetch thee new nuts.
[LAUGHS] I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas.
(LAUGHTER)
But, pray you, let none of your people stir me.
I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.
So does the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist.
The female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
O, how I love thee!
How I dote on thee!
Babe, babe, babe, not now. I've got a headache.
Welcome, good Robin.
Seest thou this sweet sight?
His dotage now I do begin to pity.
For, meeting him of late behind the wood
Seeking sweet favours from this hateful fool,
I did upbraid him and fall out with him,
For he his hairy temples then had rounded
With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers.
And that same dew which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell like round And orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes
Like tears That did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted him,
And he in mild terms begged my patience,
I then did ask of him his changeling child,
Which straight he gave me, and his fairy sent To bear him to my bower in Fairyland.
And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of his eyes.
And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp
From off the head of this Athenian swain,
That, he awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair
And think no more on this night's accidents
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the Fairy King.
Be as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see.
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower
Hath such force and blessèd power.
Now, my Oberon, wake you, my sweet King.
Titania!
What visions have I seen!
Methought I was...
..enamoured...
..of an ass.
There lies your love.
How came these things to pass?
[PUCK SINGING]
– [HE LAUGHS] – Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.
Oberon, music call; and strike more dead
Than common sleep Of all these five the sense.
Music, ho! Music, such as charmeth sleep!
When thou wak'st, With thine own fool's eyes peep.
TITANIA: Sound, music!
Come, my King, take hands with me,
And rock the ground Whereon these sleepers be.
[MUSIC BEGINS]
♪ I can see clearly now the rain is gone
♪ I can see all obstacles in my way
– [LAUGHING] – ♪ Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
♪ It's gonna be a bright, bright Bright sunshiny day... ♪
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will tomorrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity.
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
Fairy Queen, attend, and mark:
I do hear the morning lark.
Then, my King, in silence sad,
Trip we after night's shade.
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wandering moon.
Come, my Queen, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night
That I sleeping here was found
With this mortal on the ground.
♪ I think I can make it now the pain has gone
♪ All of the bad feelings have disappeared
♪ Here is my rainbow I've been praying for
♪ It's gonna be a bright, bright Bright sunshiny day
♪ Look all around There's nothing but blue skies
♪ Look straight ahead Nothing but blue skies
♪ I can see clearly now the rain has gone
♪ I can see all obstacles in my way
♪ Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
♪ It's gonna be a bright, bright Bright sunshiny day
[THUNDER RUMBLES]
♪ It's gonna be a bright, bright Bright sunshiny day... ♪
Go, one of you, find out the forester;
For now our observation is performed.
And since we have the vaward of the day,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley; let them go.
Uncouple in the western valley!
We will, sweet Queen, Up to the mountain's top,
To mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear
With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear
Such gallant chiding, for besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flewed, so sanded; and their heads hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew –
Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls,
Slow in pursuit, But matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never holloed to nor cheered with horn
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.
Judge when you hear.
But soft, what nymphs are these?
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is,
This Helena, old Nedar's Helena.
I wonder of their being here together.
No doubt they rose up early to... observe The rite of May.
(LAUGHTER)
and hearing of our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.
But come, Egeus; is this not the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
It is, my lord.
Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past!
Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?
– Pardon, my lord. – I know you two are rival enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy
To sleep by hate, yet fear no enmity?
My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear...
I cannot truly say how I came here.
But, as I think, for truly would I speak,
And now do I bethink me, so it is:
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens where we might
Without the peril of the Athenian law...
Enough, enough, my lord, you have enough!
I beg the law, the law upon his head.
They would have stolen away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me.
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
But by some power it is – my love for Hermia,
Melted as the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaud
Which in my childhood I did dote upon;
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia;
But, like in sickness, Did I loathe this food.
But, as in health come to my natural taste,
And now do wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.
[♪ SINISTER LOW TONE]
HIPPOLYTA: Theseus.
OBERON: What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
O, how I love thee!
How I dote on thee!
TITANIA: There lies your love.
OBERON: What visions have I seen!
TITANIA: So shall the pairs of lovers be wedded.
Wedded.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met.
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple by and by with us
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning is now something worn, Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
Away with us to Athens. Three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.
Come.
Come... Hippolyta.
These things seem small And undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains, turnèd into clouds.
Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When everything seems double.
So methinks;
And I have found Demetrius, like a jewel,
Mine own, and not mine own.
It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream.
Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?
Yea, and my father.
And Hippolyta.
And he did bid us follow to the temple.
Why, then, we are awake. Let's follow him
And by the way let us recount our dreams.
[ALL LAUGH]
[YAWNING]
When my cue comes...
(LAUGHTER)
..call me, and I will answer.
My next is 'Most fair Pyramus.'
Heigh-ho!
Mistress Quince! Flute the bellows-mender!
Snout the tinker!
Starveling!
God's my life stolen hence and left me asleep.
(LAUGHTER)
I have had a most rare vision.
I've had a dream
past the wit of man to say what dream it was.
Man is but an ass if he will go about to expound this dream.
Methought I was..
Oh, no. No, no, no, no! [LAUGHS]
There is no man can tell what. Methought I was...
And methought I had...
But man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what methought I had.
The eye of man hath not heard,
the ear of man hath not seen,
man's hand is not able to taste,
his tongue to conceive, nor his heart
to report what this dream was.
[CHUCKLES]
I will get Mistress Quince to write a ballad of this dream.
And it shall be called 'Bottom's Dream'... [LAUGHING]
because it hath no bottom,
and I will sing it at the latter end of the play,
before the Duke.
Peradventure, to make it the more gracious,
I shall sing it at her death.
Have you sent to Bottom's house? Is he come home yet?
He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
If he come not, then the play is marred.
It goes not forward, doth it?
It is not possible.
You have not a man in all Athens
able to discharge Pyramus but he.
No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens.
Yea and the best person too,
and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.
You must say 'paragon'.
A paramour is, God bless us, a thing of naught.
Neighbours, 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.
O sweet Bully Bottom!
Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life.
– He could not have 'scaped sixpence a day. – QUINCE: No.
If the Duke had not paid him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus,
– I'll be hanged. – Me, too. Me, too.
– He would have deserved it. – Ay.
Sixpence a day in playing Pyramus, or nothing.
Where are these lads? Where are these hearts?
Look at me! Look at me!
Bottom!
O most courageous day! O most happy hour!
Bottom! Bottom! Bottom!
Neighbours, neighbours, I am to discourse wonders,
but ask me not what, for if I tell you I am no true Athenian.
– Speak, Bottom. – I will tell you everything right as it fell out!
Let us hear, Bottom.
Not a word of me.
All that I will say is that the Duke hath dined.
Get your apparel together,
good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps.
Meet presently at the palace.
Every one look o'er his part.
For the short and the long is our play is preferred.
– What? – I know, I know, I know.
In any case, let Thisbe have clean linen,
and let not her that plays the lion pare her nails,
for they shall hang out for the lion's claws.
And, most dear actors,
eat no onions nor garlic
for we are to utter sweet breath,
and I do not doubt but to hear them say it is a sweet comedy.
– [ALL CLAMOUR] – No more words! Away, go, away!
[CHURCH BELLS PEAL]
'Tis strange my Theseus, That these lovers speak of.
More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
But 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.
Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love
Accompany your hearts!
More than to us
Wait in your royal walks, Your board, your bed.
Cheers.
But come, what masques, What dances shall we have,
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
Here, mighty Theseus.
Say, what abridgements Have you for this evening?
How shall we beguile The lazy time if not with some delight?
There is a brief how many sports are ripe:
Make choice of which Your highness will see first.
A-ha!
Ah. 'The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch...'
Hm! '..to the harp.'
[CRASH]
♪ Oo-oo-ooh! ♪
We'll none of that.
'The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.'
[CRASH]
GUESTS: Oh, fantastic...
That is an old device, and it was played When I to Thebes came last a conqueror.
'The thrice three Muses Mourning for the death
'Of Learning, late deceased in beggary.'
[CRASH]
HIPPOLYTA: Oooh!
That is some satire, It's keen, it's critical,
It's not sorting for a nuptial ceremony.
'A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.'
[CRASH]
(AUDIENCE CHEERS)
Merry and tragical?
Tedious and brief?
That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow.
How shall we find The concord of this discord?
A 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,
Made mine eyes water...
But more merry tears
– The passion of loud laughter never shed. – And what are they that do play it?
Hard-handed youth that work in Athens here,
Which never laboured in their minds till now,
And now have toiled their unbreathed memories With this same play, against your nuptial.
– And we will hear it. – No, my noble lord;
It is not for you. I have heard it over,
And it is nothing.
[DISCUSSING IN HUSHED VOICES]
I will hear that play.
Yes!
[♪ TALENT SHOW JINGLE]
For never anything can be amiss
But that simpleness and duty tender it.
But come, take your places, ladies.
I love not to see wretchedness o'er charged
And duty in his service perishing.
Why, gentle sweet, You shall see no such thing.
He says they can do nothing in this kind.
The kinder we then, To give thanks for nothing.
Our sport will be to take what they mistake.
So please your grace, The Prologue is addressed.
Let her approach.
If 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.
She hath played on that prologue like a child
on a recorder –
A sound, but not in government.
Yes, but, who is next?
Music.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
Then wonder on, Till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
This beauteous lady Thisbe is, certain.
This here with lime And roughcast 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 Thisbe, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright;
And, as she fled, her mantle did she fall,
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
And finds his trusty Thisbe's mantle slain.
Whereat, with blade, With bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broached His boiling bloody breast.
And Thisbe, 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.
(HUGE CHEER)
I wonder if the lion be to speak.
No wonder, my lord. One lion may, when many asses do.
– Ha-ha-ha... – Ssh!
In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall.
Such a wall, as I would have you think
That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
Oh!
That is brilliant.
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe,
Did whisper often very secretly.
– No, it's shit. No, I don't like it. – [MECHANICALS WHISPER]
Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
O grim-looked 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 Thisbe'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!
Thanks, courteous wall:
Jove shield thee well for this.
But what see...
We're in the round. We're in the round.
But... but... but what see I?
No Thisbe do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss:
Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
The wall, methinks, being sensible, Should curse again.
No! No, no, no, no, no.
In truth, sir, she should not.
'Deceiving me' is Thisbe's cue.
She is to enter now and I am to spy her through the wall.
You'll see. You'll see,
it shall fall pat as I told you.
Yonder she comes.
O wall,
full often hast thou heard my moans
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones,
Mwa!
Thy stones of lime and hair knit up in thee.
[GASPS] I see a voice. Now will I to the chink
To spy an I can hear my Thisbe's face.
– Thisbe! – My love!
Thou art my love, I think?
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace,
And like Limander am I trusty still.
And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
– I kiss the wall's hole... – Agh!
(LAUGHTER)
..not your lips at all.
Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb Meet me straightway?
Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And being done, thus Wall away doth go.
This is the silliest stuff I ever heard.
The best in this kind are but shadows;
and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
It must be in your imagination, then, and not theirs.
Well, if we imagine...
If we imagine no worse of them than they do of themselves,
they would pass for excellent actors.
But here come two noble beasts in: a man and a lion.
You, 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. – Meg!
Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am.
Oh, it's a hat.
THESEUS: Sorry, sorry.
Yeah.
And 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.
Sweet.
THESEU: A very gentle beast, and of a good courtesy.
DEMETRIUS: The very best at a beast, my lord, That e'er I saw.
It is well: let us listen to the moon.
[SHRIEKS]
It's immersive.
[LAUGHTER, APPLAUSE]
This lantern doth the horned moon present.
He should have worn the horns on his head. [LAUGHS]
This lantern doth the horned moon present;
– Myself... – Dude.
the man in the moon do seem to be.
This is the greatest error of all the rest:
the man should be put into the lantern.
– How else is it the man in the moon? – He dares not come there, for the light.
This lantern doth the horned moon pres...
I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!
Yet, but in courtesy, in all reason, We must stay the time.
Proceed, Moon. Sorry.
All 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.
Why, all these should be in the lantern;
for all these are in the moon.
Stop it.
But, silence: here comes Thisbe.
This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love?
Roar. Come 'ere.
Agh! What are you doing?
I'm improvising!
Mistress! Mistress!
No, no, no. No, no, no.
Let go!
Don't mess with the Lion!
– DEMETRIUS: Well roared, Lion. – THESEUS: And well run, Thisbe.
Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
Sweet Moon,
I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon,
For shining now so bright;
For, by thy gracious, golden, Glimmering gleams
I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.
Agh! No! 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, stained with blood!
(CHEERING)
[GROANS]
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum,
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
This passion, and the death of a dear friend,
would go near to make a man look sad.
Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
[MOANING]
O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame,
Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear?
Which is...
No, no...
[GRAVELLY VOICE] Which was...
the fairest dame
That lived, that loved, that liked,
That looked with cheer. [SOBS]
Come, tears, confound;
Out, sword, and wound...
Mistress!
Wound the pap of Pyramus.
Ay,
That left pap, Where heart...
What is that?
..heart doth hop:
Thus die I...
Thus...
[GROANS]
Thus...
[GROANS, SOBS]
Thus.
Aaarrgghh!
– [ELECTRONIC BLARING] – Nick, Nick, it's not working!
– Nick! Nick! – [BLARING CONTINUING]
Get the dog, get the dog!
Stay calm, stay calm. Switch off the dog. Switch off the dog.
Switch off the dog.
Switch off the dog! I'm supposed to be dead! Switch off the dog now!
[BLARING DIES]
Aagh!
Now!
Now am I dead,
Ow!
Now am I fled;
My soul is in the sky
Tongue, lose thy light;
Moon, take thy flight.
Ow!
Moon, take thy flight.
Aagh! Aaaagh!
Now die, die,
d-d-d-die,
Die!
No, wait, please, no.
This is really good.
Oh, no! No, no, no!
Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!
Aagh!
Blood and guts! Blood and guts! More blood and guts!
Oh, no. Oh, no.
Oh, no, please. Oh, no.
No, no, no! Not the rock! Not the rock!
How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
She will find him... by starlight.
And her passion ends the play.
I hope she will be brief.
Asleep, my love?
What?
Dead? No, my dove!
Pyramus, arise!
Speak.
Quite dumb?
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 as green as leeks.
O Sisters Three,
Come, come to me, come
Come.
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.
[ALL SHRIEK]
And farewell, friends.
Thus Thisbe ends
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Ay, and Wall too.
No, no, no, no, no.
I assure you, sir,
the wall is down that parted their fathers.
And will it please you to see an epilogue,
or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company?
Oh, no epilogue, I pray you,
no, for your play needs no excuse.
No, never excuse, for when the players are all dead,
there needs none left to be blamed.
And Marry, if she that writ it
had played Pyramus and hanged herself in Thisbe's garter,
it would have been a fine tragedy.
And so it was, truly, and... Oh!
Notably discharged.
– But come, your Bergomask? – Bergomask.
Leave your epilogue alone.
Neighbours.
Music.
[♪ 'Bonkers' by Dizzee Rascal and Armand Van Helden]
Hey! No, no.
I wake up everyday it's a daydream
Everythin' in my life ain't what it seems
I wake up just to go back to sleep I act real shallow but I'm in too deep
And all I care about is sex and violence A heavy bass line is my kind of silence
Everybody says that I gotta get a grip But I let sanity give me the slip
♪ Bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk bonkers
Some people think I'm bonkers
But I just think I'm free Man, I'm just livin' my life
There's nothin' crazy about me
Some people pay for thrills
But I get mine for free
Man, I'm just livin' my life There's nothin' crazy about me
Some people think I'm bonkers
But I just think I'm free
Man, I'm just livin' my life There's nothin' crazy about me
Some people pay for thrills But I get mine for free
Man, I'm just livin' my life There's nothin' crazy about me
♪ Bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk bonkers ♪
(CHEER, APPLAUSE)
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 overwatched.
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.
[CLEARS THROAT]
Yeah, I'll see you.
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,
And 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.
OBERON: Through the house give gathering 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.
First rehearse your song by rote,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand with fairy grace
Shall we sing and bless this place.
♪ And I had a dream
♪ About my old school
♪ And she was there all pink and gold and glittering
♪ I threw my arms around her legs
♪ Came to weeping
♪ Came to weeping... ♪
From 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.
And so shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be,
With this field-dew consecrate
Every fairy take their 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.
♪ And I heard your voice As clear as day
♪ And you told me I should concentrate
♪ It was all so strange And so surreal
♪ That a ghost should be so practical
♪ Only if for a night
♪ Only if for a night ♪
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumbered here
Whilst 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...
[LAUGHS]
..If we have unearnèd 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.
(CHEERING)
The Fairies!
The Rude Mechanicals!
All the lovers!
And us, lot.
Ooooh!
[♪ 'Love On Top' by Beyoncé]
Bring the beat in
♪ Honey, honey!
♪ I can see the stars all the way from here
♪ Can't you see the glow on the window pane?
♪ I can feel the sun whenever you're near
♪ Every time you touch me I just melt away
♪ Now everybody asks me why I'm smiling out from ear to ear
♪ They say love hurts But I know
♪ It's gonna take the real work
♪ Nothing's perfect but it's worth it
♪ After fighting through my tears
♪ And finally you put me first
♪ Baby it's you You're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Come on, baby, it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I can always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop
♪ Finally you put my love on top
♪ Ooh, baby
♪ You put my love on top
♪ Top, top, top
♪ My love on top
♪ Ooh, you're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only thing I see
♪ Come on baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop
♪ Finally you put my love on top
♪ Ooh, baby You're the one I love
♪ You're the one I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Come on, baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need the earth to stop
♪ Finally, you put my love on top
♪ Baby, cos you're the one that I love
♪ Baby, you're the one that I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Baby, baby it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all
♪ You're the one I always call
♪ When I need to make everything stop Finally, you put my love on top
♪ Baby, cos you're the one that I love
♪ Baby, you're the one that I need
♪ You're the only one I see
♪ Baby, it's you
♪ You're the one that gives your all... ♪
(CHEERS, APPLAUSE)