Midsummer Night's Dream

Bottom

First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on,
then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a
point.

Quince

Mary, our play is The Most Lamentable Comedy and
Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisbe.
[Enter a group of six people who, judging from their dress and speech, are poorly educated laborers. They have decided to contribute to Theseus’ wedding festivities by staging a play which one of them, Quince, has written for the occasion.]

Quince

Is all our company here?

Bottom

You were best to call them generally, man by
man, according to the scrip.

Helena

Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.

Helena

Sickness is catching. O, were favor so!
Your words I catch, fair Hermia. Ere I go,
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Hermia

I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus' doves,
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen
When the false Trojan under sail was seen,
By all the vows that ever men have broke –
(In number more than ever women spoke) –
In that same place thou hast appointed me
Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.

Hermia

I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus' doves,
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen
When the false Trojan under sail was seen,
By all the vows that ever men have broke –
(In number more than ever women spoke) –
In that same place thou hast appointed me
Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.

Theseus

Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood;
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun,
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
But earthlier happy is the rose distilled
Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

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