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3metrius, come; of Armour father's will; MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. Ad l. My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd, If not with vantage, as Demetrius' And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
The. I must confess, that I have heard so much,
have spoke thereof; My mind did lose it. But, And come, Egeus; you shall go with me For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself To fit your fancies Or else the
yields you up (Which by no means we may extenuate) To death, or to a vow of single Come, my Hippolyta ; what cheer, my love ? 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. Ege. With duty and desire we follow you.
[Exeunt Thes. Hip. Ege. Dem. and train, Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale! How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Her. Belike, for want of rain, which I could well
Lys. Ah me! for nught that ever I could read,
Her. O cross ! too high to be enthrall'd to low!
Lys. Or if there were a sympathy in choice,
Ms fortunes erery way as fairly rank'd,
The I must confess, that I have heard so much,
[Breunt Thes. Hip. Ege. Dem. and train, Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale! How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Her. Belike, for want of rain, which I could well
Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read,
Her. O cross! too high to be enthralled to low!
earth, And ere a man hath power to say, -Behold!
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
The jaws of darkness do devour it up :
Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia
My good Lysander ! I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ; By his best arrow with the golden head; By the simplicity of Venus' doves; By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves ; And by that fire which burn' the Carthage queen, When the false Trojan under sail was seen ; By all the vows that ever men have broke, In number more than ever women spoke ;In that same place thou hast appointed me, Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee. Lys. Keep promise, love : Look, here comes Helena.
Enter HELENA. Her. God speed, fair Helena! Whither away? Hel. Call you me fair! that fair again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair! Your eyes are load-stars; and sour tongue's sweet air More túneable 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 1 80; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eyes Were the world mine, Demetrius
being bated, The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. [skill!
Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
Her. And in the wood, where often you and I
Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be !
Then to tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
And therefore is love said to be a child,
to the wood will he, to-morrow night,
SCENE 11.- The same. A Room in a Cottage.
QUINCE, and STARVELING.
Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by
Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought it, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding-day at night.
Bol. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; anit so grow to a point.
Quin. Marry, our plny is – The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thishs.
Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.--Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.
Quin. Answer as call you: Nick Bottom, the veaver. Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceeil. quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus ? a lover, or a tyrant ! Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.
Bol. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: If I do it, let the nudience look to their eyes will more storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest Yet my chief humour is for a tyrant : I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all Split. Met
"The raging rocks,
“ of prison-gates :
" The foolish fates."
Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman ; I have 3 beard coming.
Quin. That's all one ; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.
Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too! I'll speak in a monstrous little voice,- Thisne, Thisne, -Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear : and lady dear!
Quin. No, no; you must play Pyramus, and, Flute, you Thisby.
Bot. Well, proceed.
Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.- Tom Snout, the tinker.
Snout. Here, Peter Quince.
Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's fa. ther; - Snug, the joiner, you the lion's part :-and, I hope, here is a play fitted.
Snug. Have you the lion's part written ? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.
Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that! will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, Let him roar again, Let him roar again.
Quin. 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.
All. That would hang us every mother's son.