Quince and then you will play barefaced. – But 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, for if we meet in the city we shall be dogged with company and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not. Bottom We will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect. Adieu. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4056
Bottom Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quince Why, what you will. Bottom I will discharge it in either your straw-color beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color beard, your perfect yellow. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "French-crown"
Bottom Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quince Why, what you will. Bottom I will discharge it in either your straw-color beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color beard, your perfect yellow. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4054
Bottom Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in? Quince Why, what you will. Bottom I will discharge it in either your straw-color beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color beard, your perfect yellow. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "purple-in-grain"
Bottom Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I 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.” Quince 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. Bottom 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. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4052
Bottom Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I 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.” Quince 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. Bottom 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. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4051
Quince Snug the joiner, you the lion's part. And I hope here is a play fitted. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4050
Flute What is Thisbe? A wandering knight? Quince It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flute Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a beard coming. Quince That's all one. You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. Bottom An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too. I'll speak in a monstrous little voice: “Thisne, Thisne!” — “Ah Pyramus, my lover dear!" – "Thy Thisbe dear and lady dear!” Read more about popup_note_index_item 4049
Quince Flute, you must take Thisbe on you. Flute What is Thisbe? A wandering knight? Quince It is the lady that Pyramus must love. Flute Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a beard coming. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4048
Bottom That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes. I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest — yet 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. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4047