SCENE I. Athens. The palace of THESEUS
Enter THESEUS， HIPPOLYTA， PHILOSTRATE， LORDS， and ATTENDANTS
HIPPOLYTA. Tis strange， my Theseus， that these lovers speak of. THESEUS. 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 a 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 suppos"d a bear？ HIPPOLYTA. But all the story of the night told over， And all their minds transfigur'd so together， More witnesseth than fancy's images， And grows to something of great constancy， But howsoever strange and admirable.
Enter LYSANDER， DEMETRIUS， HERMIA， and HELENA
THESEUS. Here come the lovers， full of joy and mirth. Joy， gentle friends， joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts！ LYSANDER. More than to us Wait in your royal walks， your board， your bed！ THESEUS. Come now； what masques， what dances shall we have， To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime？ Where is our usual manager of mirth？ What revels are in hand？ Is there no play To ease the anguish of a torturing hour？ Call Philostrate. PHILOSTRATE. Here， mighty Theseus. THESEUS. Say， what abridgment have you for this evening？ What masque？ what music？ How shall we beguile The lazy time， if not with some delight？ PHILOSTRATE. There is a brief how many sports are ripe； Make choice of which your Highness will see first. [Giving a paper] THESEUS. 'The battle with the Centaurs， to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.' We'll none of that： that have I told my love， In glory of my kinsman Hercules. 'The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals， Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.' That is an old device， and it was play'd When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. 'The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of Learning， late deceas'd in beggary.' That is some satire， keen and critical， Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. 'A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisby； very tragical mirth.' Merry and tragical！ tedious and brief！ That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord？ PHILOSTRATE. A play there is， my lord， some ten words long， Which is as brief as I have known a play； But by ten words， my lord， it is too long， Which makes it tedious； for in all the play There is not one word apt， one player fitted. And tragical， my noble lord， it is； For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which when I saw rehears'd， I must confess， Made mine eyes water； but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed. THESEUS. What are they that do play it？ PHILOSTRATE. Hard-handed men that work in Athens here， Which never labour'd in their minds till now； And now have toil'd their unbreathed memories With this same play against your nuptial. THESEUS. And we will hear it. PHILOSTRATE. No， my noble lord， It is not for you. I have heard it over， And it is nothing， nothing in the world； Unless you can find sport in their intents， Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain， To do you service. THESEUS. I will hear that play； For never anything can be amiss When simpleness and duty tender it. Go， bring them in； and take your places， ladies. Exit PHILOSTRATE HIPPOLYTA. I love not to see wretchedness o'er-charged， And duty in his service perishing. THESEUS. Why， gentle sweet， you shall see no such thing. HIPPOLYTA. He says they can do nothing in this kind. THESEUS. The kinder we， to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake； And what poor duty cannot do， noble respect Takes it in might， not merit. Where I have come， great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes； Where I have seen them shiver and look pale， Make periods in the midst of sentences， Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears， And， in conclusion， dumbly have broke off， Not paying me a welcome. Trust me， sweet， Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome； And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love， therefore， and tongue-tied simplicity In least speak most to my capacity.
Re-enter PHILOSTRATE
PHILOSTRATE. SO please your Grace， the Prologue is address'd. THESEUS. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets]
Enter QUINCE as the PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE. If we offend， it is with our good will. That you should think， we come not to offend， But with good will. To show our simple skill， That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then， we come but in despite. We do not come， as minding to content you， Our true intent is. All for your delight We are not here. That you should here repent you， The actors are at band； and， by their show， You shall know all， that you are like to know， THESEUS. This fellow doth not stand upon points. LYSANDER. He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt； he knows not the stop. A good moral， my lord： it is not enough to speak， but to speak true. HIPPOLYTA. Indeed he hath play'd on this prologue like a child on a recorder- a sound， but not in government. THESEUS. His speech was like a tangled chain； nothing im paired， but all disordered. Who is next？
Enter， with a trumpet before them， as in dumb show， PYRAMUS and THISBY， WALL， MOONSHINE， and LION
