married; if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flute. O fweet bully Bottom! thus hath he loft fixpence a-day during his life, he could not have 'fcap'd fix-pence a-day; an the Duke had not given him fixpence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd: he would have deferv'd it. Six-pence a-day, in Pyramus, or nothing. Enter Bottom. Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? Quin. Bottom!-O moft courageous day! O most happy hour! Bot. Mafters, I am to difcourfe wonders, but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing as it fell out. Quin. Let us hear, fweet Bottom. Bot. Not a word of me; all I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet prefently at the palace, every man look o'er his part; for the fhort and the long is, (30) our play is preferred: in any cafe, let Thisby have clean linnen; and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for they fhall hang out for the lions claws; and, moft dear actors! eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt to hear them fay, it is a fweet comedy. No more words; away; go, away.` [Exeunt. (30) Our play is preferr'd:] This Word is not to be taken in its moft common Acceptation here, as if their Play was chofen in Prefe rence to the others; (for that appears afterwards not to be the Fact;) but means, that it was given in, among others, for the Duke's Option: And, in this Senfe, we fay, preferr a Petition; i. e. give it in, lodge it, for the Judge's Anfwer. So, in Julius Cæfar, Decius fays; Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go, And prefently prefer his Suit to Cæfar. ACT Enter Thefeus, Hippolita, Egeus, and bis Lords. T HIPPOLITA. KIS ftrange, my Thefeus, what thefe lovers speak of. Thef. More strange than true. I never may These antick fables, nor thefe Fairy toys; One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold; The madman. While the lover, all as frantick, The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rowling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n; The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Such tricks hath ftrong imagination, That if he would but apprehend fome joy, Hip. But all the ftory of the night told over, K 4 Enter Enter Lyfander, Demetrius, Hermia and Helena. Thef. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends; joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts. Lyf. More than to us, Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed. To wear away this long age of three hours, Enter Philoftrate. Philoft. Here, mighty Thefeus. Thef. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What mafque? what mufick? how shall we beguile The lazy time, if not with fome delight? Philoft. There is a brief, how many sports are ripe: (31) Make choice of which your Highness will fee_first. [Giving a Paper. Thef. reads] The battel with the Centaurs, to be fung (32) By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. (31) how many Sports are rife:] I have chofen to restore from one of the old Quarto's printed in 1600, ripe, as the most proper Word here: ripe, fignifying any thing ready for Use; rife, only the great Increase of any thing. (32) Lyf. The battel with the Centaurs-] Here the fixteen Lines, that follow, from the Time of the firft Folio Edition put out by the Players, have impertinently been divided, by two Verfes alternately, betwixt Thefeus and Lyfander. But what has Lyfander to do in the Affair? He is no Courtier of Thefeus's, but only an occafional Guest; and just come out of the Woods, fo not likely to know what Sports were in Preparation. I have taken the old Quarto's for my Guides, in regulating this Paffage. Thefeus asks after Entertainment. Philoftrate, who is his Mafter of the Revels, gives him in a Lift of what Sports are ready: upon which, Thefeus reads the Titles of them out of the Lift, and then alternately makes his Remarks upon them. And this, I dare fay, was the Poet's own Defign and Distribution. We'll We'll none of that. That I have told my love, Tearing the Thracian finger in their rage. long; Which is as brief, as I have known a play; Philoft. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Philoft. No, my noble lord, It is not for you. I have heard it over, Thef. I will hear that play: For never any thing can be amifs, When When fimpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in, and take your places, ladies. [Exit. Phil. Hip. I love not to fee wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his fervice perithing. Thef. Why, gentle fweet, you shall fee no fuch thing. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Enter Philoftrate. Phil. So please your Grace, the prologue is addrest. Thef. Let him approach. Enter Quince, for the prologue. [Flor. Trum. Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To fhew our fimple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. (33) And what poor duty cannot do, noble Respect Takes it in Might, not Merit.] What Ears have thefe poetical Editors, to palm this firft Line upon us as a Verfe of Shakespeare? 'Tis certain, an Epithet had flipt out, and I have ventur'd to restore such a one as the Senfe may difpenfe with; and which makes the two Verses flowing and perfect. Confider |