| ACT I SCENE II | Athens. QUINCE'S house. | |
| | Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, andSTARVELING | |
| QUINCE | Is all our company here? | |
| BOTTOM | You were best to call them generally, man by man, | |
| | according to the scrip. | |
| QUINCE | Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is | 5 |
| | thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our | |
| | interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his | |
| | wedding-day at night. | |
| BOTTOM | First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats | |
| | on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow | 10 |
| | to a point. | |
| QUINCE | Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and | |
| | most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. | |
| BOTTOM | A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a | |
| | merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your | 15 |
| | actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves. | |
| QUINCE | Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. | |
| BOTTOM | Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. | |
| QUINCE | You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. | |
| BOTTOM | What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? | 20 |
| QUINCE | A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love. | |
| 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 humour is for a | 25 |
| | 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 | 30 |
| | Of prison gates; | |
| | And Phibbus' car | |
| | Shall shine from far | |
| | And make and mar | |
| | The foolish Fates. | 35 |
| | This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players. | |
| | This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is | |
| | more condoling. | |
| QUINCE | Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. | |
| FLUTE | Here, Peter Quince. | 40 |
| QUINCE | Flute, you must take Thisby on you. | |
| FLUTE | What is Thisby? a wandering knight? | |
| QUINCE | It is the lady that Pyramus must love. | |
| FLUTE | Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming. | |
| QUINCE | That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and | 45 |
| | you may speak as small as you will. | |
| BOTTOM | An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too, I'll | |
| | speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne, | |
| | Thisne;' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear, | |
| | and lady dear!' | 50 |
| QUINCE | No, no; you must play Pyramus: and, Flute, you Thisby. | |
| BOTTOM | Well, proceed. | |
| QUINCE | Robin Starveling, the tailor. | |
| STARVELING | Here, Peter Quince. | |
| QUINCE | Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. | 55 |
| | Tom Snout, the tinker. | |
| SNOUT | Here, Peter Quince. | |
| QUINCE | You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father: | |
| | Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I | |
| | hope, here is a play fitted. | 60 |
| SNUG | Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it | |
| | be, give it me, for I am slow of study. | |
| QUINCE | You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. | |
| 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, | 65 |
| | 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. | 70 |
| ALL | That would hang us, every mother's son. | |
| BOTTOM | I grant you, friends, if that 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 | 75 |
| | sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any | |
| | nightingale. | |
| QUINCE | You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a | |
| | sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a | |
| | summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: | 80 |
| | therefore you must needs play Pyramus. | |
| 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-colour | 85 |
| | beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain | |
| | beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your | |
| | perfect yellow. | |
| QUINCE | Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and | |
| | then you will play bare-faced. But, masters, here | 90 |
| | are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request | |
| | you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow 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 | 95 |
| | 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. | 100 |
| QUINCE | At the duke's oak we meet. | |
| BOTTOM | Enough; hold or cut bow-strings. | |
| | Exeunt | |