Original subtitles

- Now, fair Hippolyta,

our nuptial hour draws on apace.

Four happy days bring in another moon.

But O, methinks, how slow this old moon wanes!

(woman chuckles)

She lingers my desires,

like to a stepdame 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.

Hippolyta I wooed thee with my sword

and won thy love doing thee injuries.

But I will wed the in another key.

With pomp, with triumph and with reveling.

- Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke.

- Thanks, good Egeus.

What's 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 bewitched the bosom of my child.

Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes

and interchanged love tokens with my child.

With cunning hast thou filched my daughter's heart.

Turned her obedience, which is due to me,

to stubborn harshness.

And, my gracious duke,

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.

- What say you, Hermia?

Be advised, fair maid.

To you, your father should be as a god.

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 judgements look.

Hermia, take time to pause.

And by the next new moon,

the ceiling day betwixt my love and me,

upon that day either prepare to die

for disobedience to your father's will

or else to wed Demetrius as he would.

- Relent, sweet Hermia, and, Lysander, yield

thy crazed 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.

Why should not I then prosecute my right?

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.

- I must confess I have heard so much.

But Demetrius, come.

And come, Egeus.

You shall go with me.

For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself

to fit your fancies to your father's will.

Come, my Hippolyta.

(slap cracks)

What cheer my love?

Demetrius and Egeus go along.

I must implore you in some business against our nuptial

and confer with you

of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

(thoughtful music)

- Aye me!

For aught that I could ever read,

the course of true love never did run smooth.

Therefore hear me, Hermia.

I have a widow aunt, a dowager

and she respects me as her only son.

From Athens is her house remote seven leagues.

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 tomorrow night

and in the wood a league without the town,

there will I stay for thee.

- [Hermia] My good Lysander, I swear to thee

by Cupid's strongest bow,

in that same place thou hast appointed me tomorrow

truly will I meet with thee.

- [Lysander] Can you promise, love?

- God speed, fair Helena.

And whither away?

- Call you me fair?

That fair again unsay.

Demetrius loves your fair.

O happy fair!

O, teach me how you look,

and with what art you sway the motion

of Demetrius' heart.

- I frown upon him yet he loves me still.

- Oh but your frowns would teach my smile such skill.

- The more I hate the more he follows me.

- The more I love the more he hateth me.

- Take comfort.

He no more shall see my face.

Lysander and myself will fly this place.

- Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold

her silver visage in the watery glass,

through Athens gates have we devised to steal.

- And in the wood where often you and I

upon faint primrose beds will won't delie

emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet.

There my Lysander and myself shall meet.

Oh farewell.

Sweet play fellow, pray thou for us

and good luck grant thee thy Demetrius.

Keep word, Lysander.

We must starve our sight from lovers' food

'til morrow deep midnight.

- I will, my Hermia.

Helena, adieu.

As you on him, Demetrius dote on you.

- How happy some or othersome 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.

I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight.

Then to the wood will he tomorrow night will he pursue her.

And for this intelligence if I have thanks.

It is a dear expense.

But herein me nigh to enrich my pain.

To have a sight tither and back again.

(frenzied music)

- Mommy!

Mommy!

(screaming)

(crashing)

(happy music)

(thunder rumbling)

(determined, yet playful music)

(man exclaims)

- Good evening.

- It's okay.

(rapping at window)

- Is all our company here?

- You best to call them generally,

man by man, according to the scrip.

- Here is the scroll of every man's name

which is thought fit through all Athens

to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess

on his wedding day at night.

- No, first, good Peter Quince,

say what the play treats on,

then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.

- Marry, our play is The Most Lamentable Comedy

and Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisbe.

(group groans)

- 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.

- Answer as I call you.

Nick Bottom the weaver.

- Ready.

Name what part I am for, and proceed.

- You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

- What is Pyramus?

A lover or a tyrant?

- A lover that kills himself, most gallant, for love.

(group exclaims)

That will ask some tears

in the true performing of it.

If I do it, let the audience

look to their eyes.

But my chief humor is for a tyrant.

I could play Ercles 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 the foolish fates.

(group exclaims and applauds)

This was lofty.

Now name the rest of the players.

- Francis Flute-- - This is Ercles' vein.

Tyrants vein.

A lover is more condoling.

- Francis Flute the bellows-mender.

- Here, Peter Quince.

- Flute, you must take Thisbe on you.

- What is Thisbe?

A wandering knight?

- It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

- Oh, that's good.

- Nay, faith, let not me play a woman.

I have a beard, coming.

- Ah so one.

You shall play it in a mask

and you may speak as small as you will.

- And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe, too.

I'll speak in a monstrous little voice:

Fisne, Fisne!

Ah, Pyramus,

my lover dear,

thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear!

(feigns sobbing)

- No, no, you must play Pyramus.

And Flute, you Thisbe.

- Oh well proceed.

- Robin Starveling the tailor.

- Here, Peter Quince.

- Robin Starveling you must play Thisbe's mother.

Hmm.

(snickering)

Tom Snout the tinker.

- Here Peter Quince.

- You Pyramus' father.

Myself, Thisbe's father.

Snug the joiner, you the lion's part.

- Oh yes!

- And I hope here is a play fitted.

- Have you the lion's part written?

Pray you, if it be, give it me,

for I am slow of study.

- You may do it extempore,

for it is nothing but roaring.

- Oh let me play the lion, too.

I will roar that it will make 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!

And you should do it too terribly,

you would fright the duchess and the ladies,

and they would shriek.

And that were enough to hang us all.

(all exclaiming at once)

- I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you

as gently as any sucking dove;

I will roar you as 'twere any nightingale.

(purrs)

- You can play no part but Pyramus.

Pyramus is a sweet-faced 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.

Well...

I will undertake it.

(all exclaiming)

- Then masters, here are your parts,

and I am to entreat you, request you

and desire you to con them by tomorrow night

and meet me in the palace wood,

a mile without the town by moonlight.

There will we rehearse.

I pray you fail me not.

- We will meet and there we may rehearse

most obscenely and courageously.

Take pains.

Be perfect.

Adieu. - Right.

(determined, yet playful music)

- At the duke's oft we meet.

- Enough!

Hold your (mumbles)

(thunder crashes)

(peaceful music) (thunder crashes)

- How now, spirit?

Whither wander you?

- Over hill, over dale, through a bush,

through a briar, over park, over pale,

through flood, through a fire,

I do wander everywhere.

Swifter than the moon's sphere.

And I serve the fairy queen,

to dew her orbs upon the green.

Farewell thou lob of spirits, I'll be gone.

Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

- The king doth keep his revels here tonight.

Take heed the queen come not within his sight.

For Oberon is passing fell and wrath

because that she as her attendant hath

a lovely boy stolen from an Indian king.

(playful music)

She never had so sweet a changeling.

And jealous Oberon

would have the child knight of his train

to trace the forests wild.

But she, perforce, withholds the loved boy

crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy.

- Either I mistake your shape and making quite

or else you are that shrewd and navish sprite

called Robin Goodfellow.

And aren't you he?

- Thou speakest aright.

I am that merry wanderer of the night.

- Oh! - But room fairy,

here comes Oberon!

- And here my mistress.

Would that he were gone.

(playful music)

(popping)

(popping)

- Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.

- What, jealous Oberon!

Fairies, skip hence.

I have forsworn his bed and company.

- Tarry wash wanton, am not I thy lord?

- Then I must be thy lady.

Why art thou here,

come from the farthest step of India,

but that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,

your buskin'd 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?

- These are the forgeries of jealousy.

And never, since the middle summer's spring,

met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,

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,

hath every pelting river made so proud

that they have overborne their continents.

The fold stands empty in the drowned field,

And crows are fatted with the murrion flock.

The human mortals want their winter cheer,

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: the spring, the summer,

the childing autumn, angry winter,

change their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,

by their increase, now knows not which is which:

and this same progeny of evil comes

from our debate, from our dissension;

We are their parents and original.

- Do you amend it then?

It lies in you.

Why should Titania cross her Oberon?

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.

- Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

- Not for thy fairy kingdom!

Fairies, away!

We shall chide downright if I longer stay.

(frenzied music)

- Well, go thy ways.

Thou shalt not from this grove 'til I torment thee

for this injury.

My gentle Puck, come hither.

Thou rememberest, since once I sat

upon a promontory and heard 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.

- I remember.

- That very time, I saw, but thou couldst not,

flying between the cold moon and the Earth,

Cupid all armed.

A certain aim he took tt a fair vestal throned by the west,

and loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,

as it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts.

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.

Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once:

The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid,

will make all man, all woman madly dote

upon the next live creature that it sees.

Fetch me this herb and be thou here again

ere the leviathan can swim a league.

- I'll put a girdle round about the Earth in 40 minutes.

(mystical music)

- Having once this juice,

I'll watch Titania when she is asleep

and drop the liquor of it in her eyes.

The next thing then she waking looks upon

be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,

on meddling monkey, or on busy ape,

she shall pursue it with the soul of love.

And ere I take this charm from off her sight,

as I can take it with another herb,

I'll make her render up her page to me.

(gasps)

But who comes here?

I am invisible; and I will overhear their conference.

- I love thee not, therefore pursue me not!

Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?

Thou toldst me they were stolen unto this wood,

and here am I, and wode within this wood,

because I cannot meet my Hermia!

Get thee gone and follow me no more!

- You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant.

- 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.

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 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.

- 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.

(growling) (yelling)

Fie, Demetrius!

Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex!

We cannot fight for love as men may do.

We should be wooed and were not made to woo.

(twinkling)

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.

Hast thou the flower there?

Welcome, wanderer.

- Ay, there it is.

- I pray thee give it to me.

I know a bank where the wild thy me blows,

where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

quite over canopied with the luscious woodbine,

with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

There sleeps Titania some time of the night.

Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight.

And there the snake throws her enameled skin,

weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes

and make her full of hateful fantasies.

Take thou some of it and seek through this grove.

A sweet Athenian lady is in love with a disdainful youth.

Anoint his eyes, but do it when the next thing he espies

may be the lady.

Effect it with some care, that he may prove

more fond on her than she upon her love:

And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

- Fear not, my lord.

Your servant shall do so.

(mystical music)

- Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;

then, for the third part of a minute, hence;

some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,

some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,

to make my small elves coats.

Sing me now asleep; then to your offices and let me rest.

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm ♪

♪ Nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, good night, with lullaby ♪

- Hence, away.

Now all is well.

One aloof stands sentinel.

(giggling)

(dramatic music)

(thoughtful music)

- What thou seest when thou dost wake,

do it for thy true love take.

Love and languish for his sake.

Be it ounce or cat or bear, pard, or boar

with bristled hair.

When thou wakest, it is thy dear.

Wake when some vile thing is near.

(bright music)

(horn honks)

(tires peeling) (men exclaiming)

(tires peeling)

- Are we all met?

- Pat, pat; oh and here's a marvelous convenient place

for our rehearsal.

- We will do it in action as we will do it before the duke.

(men exclaiming)

(pensive music)

- Fair love.

You faint with wandering in the wood,

and to speak truth, I have forgot our way.

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, gentle friend.

For love and courtesy, lie further off in human modesty.

So far be distant.

And good night, sweet friend.

Thy love ne'er alter 'til thy sweet life end.

- Amen.

Amen to that fair prayer, say I.

And then end life when I end loyalty.

Here is my bed.

Sleep give thee all his rest.

- With half that wish, the wisher's eyes be pressed.

(ominous tones)

- 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?

This is he, my master said, despised the Athenian maid.

And here the maiden, sleeping sound

on the dank and dirty ground.

Pretty soul.

She durst not lie near this lack-love,

this kill-courtesy.

Churl, upon thy eyes I throw all the power

this charm doth owe.

When thou wakest, let love forbid

sleep his seat on thy eyelid.

(laughing)

Awake when I am gone,

for I must now to Oberon!

(thoughtful music)

- Peter 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?

- By'r lakin, a parlous fear.

- 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,

and let the prologue seem to say

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.

- If this may be, then all is well.

Come, sit down,

every mother's son, and rehearse your parts.

- What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here

so near the cradle of the fairy queen?

What!

A play toward!

I'll be an auditor;

An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.

- [Helena] Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

- I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

- O, wilt thou darkling leave me?

Do not so.

- Stay, on thy peril: I alone will go.

- O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!

The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

But who is here?

Lysander!

On the ground?

Dead or asleep?

I see no blood, no wound.

Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.

(twinkling)

- And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.

Transparent Helena!

Nature shows 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 minutes I with her have spent.

Not Hermia but Helena I love:

Who will not change a raven for a dove?

- Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?

When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?

O, that a lady, of one man refused.

Should of another therefore be abused!

- She sees not Hermia.

Hermia, sleep thou there:

And never mayst thou come Lysander near!

And, all my powers, address your love and might

to honor Helen and to be her knight!

(unsettling music)

- Help me, Lysander, help me!

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 sat smiling at his cruel pray.

Lysander!

What, removed?

Lysander! Lord!

What, out of hearing?

Gone? No sound, no word?

Lysander!

Lysander!

No?

Then I well perceive you are not nigh.

Either death or you I'll find immediately.

- Speak, Pyramus.

Thisbe, stand forth.

- Oh Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet,--

- Odorous.

- O-dor-ous.

- Odorous savors 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.

- Thisbe, Thisbe.

- 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.

- Uh huh, uh huh.

- Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier,

ss 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.

Enter Pyramus, your cue is past; it is, never tire.

- O, as true as truest horse,

that yet would never tire.

- If I were fair, fair Thisbe, I were only thine.

(eerie music)

(screams)

- O monstrous!

O strange!

We are haunted.

Pray, masters!

Fly, masters!

(Bottom exclaims)

- [All] Help!

- I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,

Through bog, through bush, through brake, through 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.

(yelling)

= 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 asshead of your own, do you?

- Bless thee, Bottom!

Bless thee!

Thou art translated.

(bell dings)

(gasps)

(yelling)

- 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.

♪ The ousel cock so black of hue ♪

♪ With orange-tawny bill ♪

♪ The throstle with his note so true ♪

♪ The wren with little quill ♪

- [Titania] What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

♪ The finch, the sparrow and the lark ♪

♪ The plain-song cuckoo gray ♪

♪ With notes full many a man doth mark ♪

♪ And dares not answer nay ♪

(brays)

- I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:

Mine ear is much enamored of thy note;

So is mine eye enthralled 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, mistress,

you should have little reason for that.

And yet, to say the truth,

reason and love keep little company together now-a-days.

(brays)

- Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

- Oh.

(laughs)

Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough

to get me out of this wood,

I have enough to serve mine own turn.

- Out of this wood do not desire to go:

(grunting)

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, go with me.

(engine revs)

And I will purge thy mortal grossness so

that thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

(brays)

Peaseblossom!

Cobweb, Moth and Mustardseed!

- Ready.

- And I.

- And I.

- And I.

- [All] Where shall we go?

- Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;

(happy music)

- Hail, mortal!

- Hail!

- Hail!

- Hail!

(roars playfully)

- I cry your worship's mercy, heartily,

I beseech your worship's name.

- Cobweb.

- I shall desire you of more acquaintance,

good Master Cobweb.

If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.

Your name, honest gentleman?

- Peaseblossom.

(laughing)

- And yours?

- Mustardseed.

- O good Master Mustardseed.

- 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 enforced chastity.

(squeaking) (braying)

Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently.

(regal music)

- This falls out better than I could devise.

(braying) (grunting)

But hast thou yet latch'd 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.

- Stand close: this is the same Athenian.

- This is the woman, but not this the man.

- Where is Lysander?

Oh, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

- I'd 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?

- I'm not guilty of Lysander's blood;

Nor is he dead, for all that I can tell.

- I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

- And if I could, what should I get therefore?

- A privilege never to see me more.

- There is no following her in this fierce vein:

Here therefore for a while I will remain.

(wind howling)

(thunder crashing)

- What hast thou done?

Thou hast mistaken quite

and laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight:

About the wood go swifter than the wind

and Helena of Athens look thou find.

By some illusion see thou bring her here.

I'll charm his eyes against she do appear.

- I go, 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 wakest, 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.

- These vows are Hermia's.

- I had no judgment when to her I swore.

- Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.

- [Lysander] Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.

- O Helena, goddess,

nymph, perfect, divine!

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:

Can you not hate me, as I know you do,

but you must join in souls to mock me too?

You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;

for you love Hermia; this you know I know:

- Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:

if e'er I loved her, all that love is gone.

- 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.

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 conjoin'd all three

to fashion this false sport, in spite of me.

- 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:

♪ I love you. ♪

- Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do:

(knocking at door)

- [Demetrius] 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?

- Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

- You're a tame man, go!

- 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?

Why, then you left me, 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, of doubt;

be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest

that I do hate thee and love Helena.

- O me, you juggler!

You canker-blossom!

(yells)

- Let her not strike me.

(Hermia exclaims)

You perhaps may think

because she is something lower than myself,

That I can match her.

- Lower!

Hark, again.

(men yelling) (Helena screams)

- 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.

Let her alone: speak not of Helena;

Take not her part.

- Now she holds me not.

Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right,

of thine or mine, is most in Helena.

- Follow?

Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jole.

- You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you:

Nay, 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.

(thunder crashes)

This is thy negligence: still thou mistakest,

or else committ'st thy knaveries willfully.

- Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.

Did not you tell me I should know the man

by the Athenian garments he had on?

And so far blameless proves my enterprise,

that I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes;

(groans)

- Thou see'st these lovers seek a place to fight:

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.

'Til 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 thence all error with his might,

and make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.

When they next wake, all this derision

shall seem a dream and fruitless vision,

and back to Athens shall the lovers wend,

with league whose dates 'til death shall never end.

Whilst I in this affair do thee employ,

I'll to my queen

and beg her Indian boy;

And then I will her charmed eye release

from monster's view, and all things shall be peace.

- My fairy lord, 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: damned spirits all,

that in crossways and floods have burial,

already to their wormy beds are gone.

- But we are spirits of another sort:

I with the morning's love have oft made sport

like a forester, the groves may tread,

even 'til the eastern gate, all fiery-red,

opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,

turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.

(unsettling music)

(thunder crashes)

But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:

We may effect this business yet ere day.

- Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down:

I am fear'd in field and town:

Goblin, lead them up and down.

Here comes one.

- Where art thou, proud Demetrius?

Speak thou now.

- Here, villain; drawn and ready.

Where art thou?

- I'll be with thee straight.

- Follow me, then, to plainer ground.

- Lysander, speak again.

Runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?

Speak!

In some bush?

Where dost thou hide thy head?

- Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,

telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,

And wilt not come?

Come, thou recreant; come, child;

- Yea, art thou there?

(yelling)

(exclaims)

- Follow my voice: we'll try no manhood here.

- He goes before me and still dares me on.

When I come where he calls, then he is gone.

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.

- [Puck] Ho, ho, ho, coward, why comest thou not?

- Abide me, if thou darest; for well I know

thou runn'st before me, shifting every place,

- [Puck] Come hither: I am here.

- Nay, go thy way.

Faintness constraineth me

to measure out my length on this cold bed.

By day's approach look to be visited.

- O weary night, O long and tedious night,

abate thy hours!

Shine comforts from the east

and sleep,

that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,

Steal me awhile from mine own company.

- Yet but three?

Come one more, two of both kinds makes up four.

Here she comes, curst and sad:

Cupid is a knavish lad,

thus to make poor females mad.

- Never so weary, never so in woe,

I can no further crawl, no further go.

Here will I rest me 'til the break of day.

Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!

- On the ground sleep sound:

I'll apply to your eye, gentle lover, remedy.

When thou wakest, thou takest

true delight tn 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; naught shall go ill.

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.

(mystical music)

(braying) (crowd all talking at once)

- 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 ears, my gentle joy.

- Ph, where's Peaseblossom?

- Ready.

- Scratch my head good monsieur Peaseblossom.

Where's monsieur Cobweb?

- Ready.

- Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur,

get you your weapons in your hand,

(giggling)

and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee

from the top of a thistle;

and, good monsieur, bring me the honeybag.

Where's monsieur Mustardseed?

- Ready.

What's your will?

- Nothing, oh but to help Cavalery Peaseblossom to scratch.

I must to the barber's,

for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.

- Sayest sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek

the squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

(laughing)

- I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas.

But, I 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.

(fairies exclaiming)

And be all ways away.

(fairies twittering)

So doth 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!

(gentle music)

- Welcome, good Robin.

See'st thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do begin to pity.

For, meeting her of late behind the wood,

seeking sweet favors from this hateful fool,

I did upbraid her and fall out with her

when I had at my pleasure taunted her

and she in mild terms had begged my patience,

I then did ask of her her changeling child

which straight she gave me.

And her fairy sent to bear him to my bower in fairy land.

And now I have the boy.

I will undo this hateful imperfection of her eyes.

And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp

from off the head of this Athenian swain

that, he awaking when the others do,

may all to Athens back again repair

and think no more of this night's accidents.

But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

But first I will release the fairy queen.

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 blessed power.

Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

- My Oberon!

What visions have I seen!

Me thought I was enamored of an ass.

- There lies your love.

(snoring)

- How came these things to pass?

O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

- Silence awhile.

Robin, take off this head.

Titania, music call and strike more dead

than common sleep of all these five the sense.

- Music, ho!

Music, such as charmeth sleep!

- Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fool's eyes peep.

(exotic music)

- 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.

- Fairy king, attend, and mark:

I do hear the morning lark.

- Then, my queen, in silence sad,

trip we after the night's shade.

We the globe can compass soon,

swifter than the wandering moon.

(dramatic music)

- Peter Quince!

Flute, the bellows-mender!

God's my life, stolen hence, and left me asleep!

I have had a most rare vision.

I have had a dream, past the wit of man

to say what dream it was: man is but an ass,

if he go about to expound this dream.

Me thought I was, well no man can tell what.

Me thought I was,

and me thought I had,

no.

Man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say

what me thought I had.

I will get Peter Quince to write me a ballad of this dream.

And it'll be called Bottom's Dream,

because it hath no bottom;

and I will sing it in the latter end of a play

before the duke.

(playful music)

Where are these lads?

Where are these hearts?

(laughing

- Bottom! - Bottom!

- O most courageous day!

O most happy hour!

- Masters, I am to discourse wonders.

(men exclaiming)

(crowd murmuring)

(gentle music)

- 'Tis strange my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.

- More strange than true.

I never may believe these antique fables,

nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,

such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more

than cool reason ever comprehends.

The lunatic, the lover and the poet

are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,

that is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,

sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:

The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling

doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven.

And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown,

the poet's pen turns them to shapes

and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.

Such tricks hath strong imagination,

That if it would but apprehend some joy,

it comprehends some bringer of that joy;

or in the night, imagining some fear,

how easy is a bush supposed a bear!

Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.

Come now; what masks, what dances shall we have,

to wear away this long age of three hours

between our after-supper and bed-time?

Call Philostrate.

- Here, mighty Theseus.

Here is a brief how many sports are ripe:

Make choice of which your highness will see first.

- The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung

by an Athenian eunuch to the harp.

None of that. (guests chuckling)

A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus

and his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.

Merry and tragical!

Tedious and brief!

How shall we find the concord of this discord?

- A play there is, my lord, some 10 words long,

which is as brief as I have known a play.

But by 10 words, my lord, it is too long,

which makes it tedious.

And tragical, my noble lord, it is;

for Pyramus therein doth kill himself.

Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess,

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 men that work in Athens here,

that never labored in their minds 'til now.

- And we will hear it.

- Come, take your places.

(thoughtful music)

(audience applauds)

- Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show.

But wonder on, 'til truth make all things plain.

This man is Pyramus, if you would know.

This beauteous lady Thisbe is certain.

This man, with lime and rough-cast, 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, by moonshine

if you will know, did these lovers think no scorn

to meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo.

This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,

(growls)

the trusty Thisbe, coming first by night,

did scare away, or rather did affright;

And, as she fled, her mantle she did 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 broach'd 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.

(audience applauds)

- I wonder if the lion be to speak.

- [Demetrius] No wonder, my lord:

one lion may, when many asses do.

- In this same interlude it doth befall

that I, one Snout by name, present a Wall.

And such a Wall, as I would have you think,

that had in it a crannied hole or chink,

It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard

discourse, my lord.

(audience laughs)

- O grim-look'd 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,

show me thy chink, to blink

through with mine eyne!

Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!

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.

- Oh no, no, in truth, sir, he should not.

Deceiving me is Thisbe's cue:

she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall.

You shall see, it will 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,

thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

- I see a voice: now will I to the chink,

and spy and I can hear my Thisbe's face.

Thisbe!

- My love thou art, my love I think.

- O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!

- I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.

- Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?

- Ninus' tomb!

O thou at Ninus' tomb meet me straightway?

- Tide life, 'tide death, I come without delay.

(audience laughs and applauds)

- Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so.

And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

(audience applauds)

- This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

- The best in this kind are but shadows;

and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

- [Hippolyta] It must be your imagination then,

and not theirs.

- 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,

(roars)

then know that I,

(imitates trumpet fanfare)

as Snug the joiner, am a lion-fell, nor else no lion's dam.

For, if I should as lion come in strife

tnto this place, 'twere pity on my life.

- A very gentle beast, of a good conscience.

- This lantern doth the horned moon present--

- [Demetrius] He should have worn the horns on his head.

(audience laughs)

- This lantern doth the horned moon present:

Myself the man in the moon do seem to be--

- [Hippolyta] I am aweary of this moon:

would he would change!

- [Lysander] Proceed, Moon.

- 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.

- This is old Ninny's tomb.

- Ninus', Ninus'. - Shh!

- This is old Ninus' tomb.

Where is my love?

(roaring)

- Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams,

I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright,

for by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams

I trust to take of truest Thisbe's sight.

But stay, O spite!

But mark, poor knight, what dreadful dole is here!

O dainty duck, O dear!

Thy mantle good, what, stain'd with blood!

Approach, ye furies fell!

O Fates, come, come,

cut thread and thrum;

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

(thoughtful music)

- 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.

- Wherefore, nature, Hadst thou lions frame?

Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear:

Which is, no, no, which was the fairest dame

that lived, that loved, that liked,

that looked with cheer.

Come, tears, confound!

Out, sword, and wound the pap of Pyramus;

Ay, that left pap,

Where heart doth hop.

Thus die I.

(yells)

Thus.

(yells)

Thus.

(pants)

Thus.

Now am I dead, now am I fled,

my soul is in the sky,

tongue, lose thy light,

moon take thy flight:

Now die, die, die, die.

Die.

- With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover

and still prove an ass.

- Her Thisbe comes and her passion ends the play.

- [Lysander] She hath spied him already

with those sweet eyes.

- Asleep, my love?

What, dead, my dove?

O Pyramus, arise!

Speak, speak.

Quite dumb?

Dead, 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 green as leeks.

O sisters three, come, come to me

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.

(exclaims)

And, farewell, friends.

Thus Thisbe ends.

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

- Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

- Ay, and Wall too.

- No sir, I assure you; the Wall is down

that parted their fathers.

(audience applauds)

Will it please you to see the epilogue,

or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of the company?

- No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse.

(instruments tuning)

(murmuring)

But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone.

(shoes clicking)

("Shave and a Haircut, Two Bits")

(exclaiming)

(bell tolls)

- Mommy!

(growling)

- The iron tongue of midnight hath told 12.

'Tis almost fairy time.

Sweet friends, to bed.

A fortnight hold we this solemnity,

in nightly revels and new jollity.

(thudding)

(unsettling music)

- 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

whilst 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 hallow'd house:

I am sent with broom before

to sweep the dust behind the door.

(singing in foreign language in the distance)

- 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.

So shall all the couples three ever true in loving be;

and the blots of nature's hand

shall not in their issue stand.

Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,

nor mark prodigious, such as are despised in nativity,

shall upon their children be.

With this field-dew consecrate,

every fairy take his gait;

And each several chamber bless,

through this palace, with sweet peace;

and the owner of it blest ever shall in safety rest.

(happy music)

Trip away; make no stay;

meet me all by break of day.

- If we shadows have offended,

think but this, and all is mended,

that you have but slumbered here

while 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, if we have unearned 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.

(bright music)

(happy music)

(exotic music)

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, 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 offense ♪

♪ Philomel, with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ Philomel with melody ♪

♪ Sing in our sweet lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Lulla, lulla, lullaby ♪

♪ Never harm, nor spell nor charm ♪

♪ Come our lovely lady nigh ♪

♪ So, good night, with lullaby ♪