_A glade in another part of the island with_ FERDINAND _and_
MIRANDA _observed seated at the upper end thereof. Nearer
at hand a group of Athenian citizens. Enter_ BOTTOM,
_wearing an ass’s head_.
BOTTOM. Masters, you will marvel to behold me here, but the
very truth of the matter is that I did fall asleep, and being asleep
I did dream, and as I did lie a-dreaming I was in a manner translated
to this place, which methinks is an island, for I did espy much water
anear as I was brought hither. But, masters, I do marvel much to look
upon you here also.
FRANCIS FLUTE. Methinks, friend Bottom, you are not the sole
wight in Athens esteemed worthy translation.
ROBIN STARVELING. How an’ we be not translated either?
PETER QUINCE. Robin Starveling speaks well and to the centre
of the matter. Know then, good bully Bottom, we are translated as
yourself, but methinks you have lost more in the translating than
have we; is’t not e’en so, masters all?
ALL. Right, good Peter Quince.
BOTTOM. I have lost nothing that should cause you envy, good
friends all, and so I assure you. [_Brays loudly_] What say you then
to my voice? Is my voice perished?
TOM SNOUT. No, Nick Bottom.
BOTTOM. I thank you, good Tom Snout, and to show you that I
am the same Nick Bottom, however my visage may appear altered, for
travel doth greatly age a man, as they say, you shall hear me wake
the echoes once again.
[_Brays a second time, more loudly._
QUINCE. Methinks your voice, good Bottom, has lost somewhat of
sweetness.
BOTTOM. That’s all one, good Peter Quince, for the simple
truth of the matter is that you have no such delicate ear for fine
harmonies as I am endow’d with.
[_Strokes his ears._
QUINCE. It doth seem so on more properer consideration, and I
had an ear that were the parallax of yours ’twere pity of my life.
ALL. Indeed, an’ ’twere but pity of your life, Peter Quince.
BOTTOM. How say you, masters, shall not we spread ourselves?
[_All sit down._
MIRANDA. O Ferdinand, be these all mortal like
Ourselves? More surely I did never spy
So hideously strange a being such
As he who hath the ass’s head.
FERDINAND. Nor I.
Belike he hath incurr’d some wizard’s spite
And, all unwitting, wears this semblance till
The wizard’s anger shall be spent. But see,
His fellows play upon his ignorance
And of his strange beguilement make their sport.
BOTTOM. Since it is conceded by all of you that I have lost
nothing by translation, doth it not follow, moreover, that I have
somewhat gained by that same adventure?
FLUTE. In good truth you have gained by somewhat, Nick Bottom.
BOTTOM. I were an ass, indeed, an’ I had not.
SNUG. And twice an ass, moreover, should he be that would go
about to steal it from you.
BOTTOM. Methinks that I could munch a savoury salad of thistles
with much stomach to’t.
QUINCE. Your thistles be a thought too biting for my stomach.
BOTTOM. ’Tis but likely. I was ever a choice feeder. But,
masters, was there not some matter toward, or have you assembled
yourselves but to greet me, and, as ’twere, fittingly?
QUINCE. You speak quite to the matter, good Bottom. That is
indeed the true end of our beginning. To behold your winsome visage
in this unwonted place is great joy to us simple mechanicals, yet we
be nevertheless bold to proclaim to you that to shave were not amiss
to one of your condition. For but bethink you, and you were to come
amongst ladies thus grievously beset with hair would shame us all.
SNUG. Mayhap in this strange part of the world ’twould be
thought matter for a hanging, and that were, indeed, a most serious
business, to my thinking.
QUINCE. But an’ we talk of ladies and hangings, moreover, hither
comes a monstrous little lady, as ’twere on the instant.
_Enter_ TITANIA, _with her train_.
TITANIA. Where stays the gentle mortal I adore,
Whose voice unto mine ear makes harmonies
Celestial, and whose amiable face
Enthralls my heart in loving servitude?
PEASEBLOSSOM. Yonder he bides.
MOTH. ’Mong others of his kind.
COBWEB. Alike, yet different.
MUSTARDSEED. Chief mortal seen.
TITANIA [_espying_ BOTTOM] What angel can compare unto my love?
Beauty itself, beholding thee, might swoon
For envy, and the eldest sage would yield
His place to thee on th’ instant. O my love!
[_Winds her arms about his neck._
Thou shalt dwell with me ever. Oberon
To thee is but a gaping pig, and thou
To him the nonpareil of beauteous youth.
BOTTOM. Good mistress atomy, though you show somewhat spare of
flesh you are yet of a right comely countenance (and mine eyes do
tell me aught without spectacles), and you can speak to the point
upon occasion, as the present moment doth signify most auspiciously.
TITANIA. O I could list unto thy silver tongue Till Time itself
wax’d eld and perished.
BOTTOM. How say you, masters? Hath not mistress atomy a shrewd
manner of observation an’ she singles me out from the company of my
fellows thus compellingly?
QUINCE. O bully Bottom, you are, as I take it, the simple wonder
of our age.
ALL. Right, master Quince. Nick Bottom is become a very marvel.
TITANIA. Fain would I hear thy heavenly note again.
Sing, wondrous mortal, while I link mine arms
About thy peerless form, or garlands twine
Of dewy flowers to hang about thy neck,
That neck, of all necks most incomparable.
BOTTOM [_sings_]
Upon the hay
Cophetua
Did waste the hours in sighing.
The beggar maid
Unto him said,
Good sir, are you a dying?
TITANIA. That voice would make the nightingale asham’d.
[_Kisses him_
Now must thou leave thy fellows in this place
And speed along with me unto my court,
Where we’ll abide in loving dalliance
Until thy mortal part’s with spirit mix’d.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
PEASEBLOSSOM. Ready.
COBWEB. And I.
MOTH. And I.
MUSTARDSEED. And I.
ALL. Your hest,
Our queen, is still our duty and delight.
TITANIA. Attend us to the court, and evermore
Give special heed unto this gentleman,
Anticipate his ev’ry wish and feed
Him with the choicest cates the isle doth yield.
[_Exeunt_ TITANIA _and_ BOTTOM, _attended by
train_.
QUINCE. Were this but told in Athens, now, ’twere not believed
by aught, but we accredited liars all of the first water, and so
esteemed.
ALL. ’Twere indeed but so, and truly, Peter Quince.
QUINCE. Therefore I hold that (an’ we once more come by our own
firesides in Athens), we were best make no words of the happenings we
have beheld but now, lest we be cried upon in the public streets as
those that be counted no true men.
ALL. That were to shame us, every mother’s son.
QUINCE. Why you speak the very gizzard of the matter, my masters
all, and we will be silent in such wise as I did perpetuate, and as
for Nick Bottom, let his goblin mistress do with him as she listeth,
for methinks we are well rid of his company, being, for ourselves,
nothing loose-minded but sober, virtuous citizens all.
ALL. That are we, Peter Quince, and we thank God for’t.
_Enter_ PUCK, _unperceived, who tweaks_ QUINCE
_violently by the nose and exits_.
QUINCE. O masters, which of you--
_Is suddenly twitched aside by_ PUCK. _Re-enters
with a lion’s head on his shoulders._
ALL. God defends us, Peter Quince.
QUINCE. Masters, it ill becomes you as sober citizens of Athens
to treat one of yourselves thus unseemly. Am not I a simple workman
like the rest of you? Is it not my very own voice that you hear but
now? [_Roars._
ALL. God for his mercy.
[_Exeunt all but_ QUINCE.
QUINCE. These be strange manners; an’ I were a very lion, though
being of a truth of a most lamblike perdition, they could not have
fled from me with greater speeding. I will e’en after them to taste
the reason of their knavery.
_Enter_ PUCK.
PUCK. Now will I set these patches by the ears,
Making such monsters of their simple selves
As severally shall fright them when they see
Each in the other’s fearful eyeball glass’d.
[_Exit_ PUCK.
_Re-enter_ QUINCE.
QUINCE. And I can spy but one of my neighbours in this
predestinated place I’ll be hanged.
_Re-enter_ STARVELING, _with an owl’s head_.
QUINCE. Bless us, Robin Starveling, what wizardry do I spy in
you?
STARVELING. Wizardry, an’ you call it, Peter Quince? Look to
your own head an’ you would find out wizardry. There’s naught strange
in me.
_Re-enter_ SNUG, _with a bear’s head_.
QUINCE _and_ STARVELING. Save us, good Snug, how art thou
transmogrified!
SNUG. Not so, neither, neighbours both. I am but Snug the
joiner, as you might behold him of any working day, but you twain,
methinks, are most marvellously encountered.
QUINCE _and_ STARVELING. Speak for yourself, Master Snug: we are
the same as you have known us ever.
QUINCE. That is, I am the same, but Master Starveling is quite
other than the simple man he was.
STARVELING. Thou liest, Peter Quince. I am but plain Robin
Starveling, but you are become a very monster.
_Re-enter_ SNOUT, _with a deer’s head and horns_.
QUINCE. Good masters three, you are enchanted, and pity o’ my
life it is. ’Tis I alone that doth remain as much mankind as I was
ever.
SNOUT. An’ you count yourself the proper likeness of a man you
are most horribly mistook, and so it is, Peter Quince.
_Re-enter_ FLUTE, _with the head of a crocodile_.
FLUTE. O neighbours all, what behold I here? What sorcerer has
thus exorcised upon you? O could you be spy upon yourselves to know
how unlike you are to plain citizens like me.
QUINCE. A plain man, say you. Forsooth, yours is a very fearful
manner of plainness, Francis Flute. But look at me, masters all, and
you would gaze upon a plain man.
STARVELING. Nay, look on me, in his stead.
SNOUT. Not so, but on me.
SNUG. These be liars, every mother’s son. Look upon me, I say,
Francis Flute.
FLUTE. Masters, hear but the simple truth. You are all of you
deceived and have suffered most horrible enchantment, every mother’s
son of you but me. Heaven help you, neighbours, and undo the spell
that each and every one may become as I am.
[_Gnashes his jaws fearfully._
ALL. That were most dire affliction of any that be in the varsal
world, Francis Flute.
FLUTE. And you were not something other than simple mankind I
could try conclusions with you that speak thus enviously. Indeed, I
am something that way toward, but now.
[_Exeunt Omnes, fighting._
_Enter_ PUCK.
PUCK. Thus have I put the simple senses all
Of these rude knaves sorely distraught, for each
Doth fear the other, deeming him the prey
Of dark enchantment, while himself believes
Himself none other than he was at first
Lord, how simple mortals be,
And it much doth pleasure me
To behold them all distraught;
Each in fairy toils is caught,
There to bide at my good will,
Roaring, growling, fighting still.
[_Exit_ PUCK.
FERDINAND. How like you this, Miranda? Hath not he,
The gamesome elf, made merry mischief so
’Mongst these dull wits that scarce may they once more
Regain their sometime selves and liberty.
MIRANDA. ’Twas merry, sooth, yet I could wish the spell
Dissolv’d that made them fearsome to themselves,
And enemies that once were friends. He that
Hath friends hath treasure, more than wealth of Ind,
And he that hath not still is poor indeed,
Though all the gold of Ophir ’long’d to him.
_Enter_ JAQUES, _laughing_.
JAQUES. Though I be sworn to sadness it doth make
Me gladsome ’gainst my disposition
To note the antics of these greasy fools
Of Athens, pent within the glade where I,
All unobserv’d, have play’d the spy upon
’Em this full hour. How like these fustian churls
Be to their fellows of the scepter’d throne,
The ermine robe, the ’broider’d chasuble.
’Tis habit makes the man, the wearer’s naught.
The fool, when he is naked, shows as sage
As the philosopher so furnished;
The lout’s bare hide’s no worser than the king’s,
And, when their pride is fondly touch’d, all men
Are brothers. Did not each Athenian wight
Beholding all his fellows in their guise
Most strange and horrible, yet deem himself
Perch’d high above the reach of wizardry,
And sole possessor of a countenance
Such as is worn ’mongst ordinary folk?
My sides do ache with mirth when I bethink
Me of these simple churls, and of their kin
By Adam, in high places set, how each,
No matter what his state, doth ne’er perceive
Himself glass’d in his fellow’s eye, but paints
Instead a portrait in fair colours mix’d,
Calls it his likeness, and would have the world,
That knows him what he is, declare its truth
Both in the general and particular.
This globe is peopl’d with philosophers
And fools, methinks, by which I mean the wise
Are the sole wearers of the motley coat
And all men else do owe the cap and bells.
The lover is a fool who doth proclaim
His mistress is perfection; the maid,
Who thinks her swain compact of truth; the king,
Who stakes his crown upon a battle’s point;
The soldier, who for glory gives his life
And dies, a forfeit to’t; the tonsur’d saint,
Who vows to heaven that which ’longs to men.
O, I could moralize upon this theme
An hour by the clock, with still grave matter left
For melancholy contemplation.
[_Exit_ JAQUES.
MIRANDA. Yon sober suited wight, meseems, doth make
A play of sadness.
FERDINAND. So, in sooth, he doth.
His wisdom rings but hollowly, and all
His speech declares a studied wilfulness
Such as we note in him who acts a part
That finds no smallest likeness in himself.
_Soft music heard, followed by a dance of elves._
[_Exeunt_ FERDINAND _and_ MIRANDA.