Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Video Link Paragraphs Index Item: Character Interview: Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate
Robin 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 churchway paths to glide. And we fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team From the presence of the sun, Following a darkness like a dream, Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent with broom before To sweep the dust behind the door. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Hecate
Bottom their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a bergamask dance between two of our company? [Bottom and Flute stand up] Theseus No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse, for when the players are all dead there needs none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy; and so it is, truly and very notably discharged. But come, your bergamask. Let your epilogue alone. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Epilogue
Flute (as Thisbe) 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. [She stabs herself] And farewell friends, Thus Thisbe ends. Adieu, adieu, adieu. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: “sisters three”