I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, let him roar again, let him roar again!
Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchess and the Ladies, that they would shriek, and that were enough to hang us all.
All. That would hang us every mother's son.
Bot. I grant you, friends, 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.
Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a sweet fac'd man, a proper man as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in?
Quin. Why what you will.
Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-colour'd beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour'd beard, your perfect yellow.
Quin. Some of your French-crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But, masters here are your parts, and I am to intreat you, request you, and desire you to con them by to-morrow night; 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 dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not.
Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearse more obscenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfect, adieu.
Quin. At the Duke's oak we meet.
Bot. But hold ye, hold ye, neighbours; are your voices in order, and your tunes ready? For if we miss our musical pitch, we shall be all 'sham'd and abandon'd.
Quin. Ay, ay! Nothing goes down so well as a little of your sol, fa, and long quaver; therefore let us be in our airs--and for better assurance I have got the pitch pipe.
Bot. Stand round, stand round! We'll rehearse our eplog--Clear up your pipes, and every man in his turn take up his stanza-verse--Are you all ready?
All. Ay, ay!--Sound the pitch-pipe, Peter Quince.
[Quince blows.
Bot. Now make your reverency and begin.
SONG--for Epilogue;
By Quince, Bottom, Snug, Flute, Starveling, Snout.
Quin. Most noble Duke, to us be kind;
Be you and all your courtiers blind,?That you may not our errors find,?But smile upon our sport.?For we are simple actors all,?Some fat, some lean, some short, some tall;?Our pride is great, our merit small;?Will that, pray, do at court?
II.
Starv. O would the Duke and Dutchess smile,
The court would do the same awhile,?But call us after, low and vile,?And that way make their sport:?Nay, would you still more pastime make,?And at poor we your purses shake,?Whate'er you give, we'll gladly take,?For that will do at court.
Bot. Well said, my boys, my hearts! Sing but like nightingales thus when you come to your misrepresentation, and we are made for ever, you rogues! so! steal a way now to your homes without inspection; meet me at the Duke's oak--by moon light--mum's the word.
All. Mum!
[Exeunt all stealing out.
SCENE, a Wood.
Enter a Fairy at one Door, and Puck, or Robin-good-fellow, at another.
Puck. How now, Spirit! whither wander you?
1st Fai. Over hill, over dale,?Through bush, through brier,?Over park, over pale,?Through flood, through fire,?I do wander every where,?Swifter than the moon's sphere;?And I serve the Fairy Queen,?To dew her orbs upon the green:?I must go seek some dew-drops here,?And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
AIR.
Kingcup, daffodil and rose,?Shall the fairy wreath compose;?Beauty, sweetness, and delight,?Crown our revels of the night:?Lightly trip it o'er the green?Where the Fairy ring is seen;?So no step of earthly tread,?Shall of end our Lady's head.
Virtue sometimes droops her wing,?Beauties bee, may lose her sting;?Fairy land can both combine,?Roses with the eglantine:?Lightly be your measures seen,?Deftly footed o'er the green;?Nor a spectre's baleful head?Peep at our nocturnal tread.
Farewel thou lob of spirits, I'll be gone;?Our Queen and all her Elves come here anon.
Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to-night,?Take heed the Queen come not within his sight;?For they do square, that all their Elves for fear?Creep into acorn-cups, and hide them there.
1st Fai. But why is Oberon so fell and wrath?
Puck. Because that she, as her attendant hath?A lovely boy stol'n from an Indian King;?And she perforce with-holds the changling,?Tho' jealous Oberon wou'd have the child?Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild.
1st Fai. Or I mistake your shape and making quite,?Or else you are that shrewd and knavish Sprite?Call'd Robin-good-fellow.
Puck. Thou speak'st aright;?I am that merry wand'rer of the night:?I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,?Oft lurk in gossip's
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