The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  DEMETRIUS Why, all these should be in the lantern, for all these are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisbe.

  Enter Flute as Thisbe

  FLUTE (as Thisbe)

  This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?

  SNUG (as Lion) O.

  Lion roars. Thisbe drops her mantle and runs off

  DEMETRIUS Well roared, Lion.

  THESEUS Well run, Thisbe.

  HIPPOLYTA Well shone, Moon.—Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.

  Lion worries Thisbe’s mantle

  THESEUS Well moused, Lion.

  DEMETRIUS And then came Pyramus.

  ⌈Enter Bottom as Pyramus⌉

  LYSANDER And so the lion vanished. ⌈Exit Lion⌉

  BOTTOM (as Pyramus)

  Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams.

  I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright;

  For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams

  I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.

  But stay, O spite!

  But mark, poor knight,

  What dreadful dole is here?

  Eyes, do you see?

  How can it be?

  O dainty duck, O dear!

  Thy mantle good,

  What, stained with blood?

  Approach, ye furies fell.

  O fates, come, come,

  Cut thread and thrum,

  Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.

  THESEUS This passion—and the death of a dear friend—would go near to make a man look sad.

  HIPPOLYTA Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

  BOTTOM (as Pyramus)

  O wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame,

  Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear?—

  Which is—no, no, which was—the fairest dame

  That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked, with

  cheer.

  Come tears, confound;

  Out sword, and wound

  The pap of Pyramus.

  Ay, that left pap,

  Where heart doth hop.

  Thus die I: thus, thus, thus.

  He stabs himself

  Now am I dead,

  Now am I fled,

  My soul is in the sky.

  Tongue, lose thy light;

  Moon, take thy flight. ⌈Exit Moonshine⌉

  Now die, die, die, die, die. He dies

  DEMETRIUS No die but an ace for him; for he is but one.

  LYSANDER Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

  THESEUS With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover and prove an ass.

  HIPPOLYTA How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?

  THESEUS She will find him by starlight.

  ⌈Enter Flute as Thisbe⌉

  Here she comes, and her passion ends the play.

  HIPPOLYTA Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus. I hope she will be brief.

  DEMETRIUS A mote will turn the balance which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better—he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.

  LYSANDER She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

  DEMETRIUS And thus she means, videlicet:

  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. She dies

  THESEUS Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

  DEMETRIUS Ay, and Wall too.

  ⌈BOTTOM⌉ No, I assure you, the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue or to hear a bergamask dance between two of our company?

  THESEUS No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead there need 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.⌈Bottom and Flute⌉ dance a bergamask, then exeunt

  The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn As much as we this night have overwatched. This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity In nightly revels and new jollity. Exeunt

  5.2 Enter Robin Goodfellow with a broom

  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 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.

  Enter Oberon and Titania, King and Queen of Fairies, with all their train

  OBERON

  Through the house give glimmering light.

  By the dead and drowsy fire

  Every elf and fairy sprite

  Hop as light as bird from brier,

  And this ditty after me

  Sing, and dance it trippingly.

  TITANIA

  First rehearse your song by rote,

  To each word a warbling note.

  Hand in hand with fairy grace

  Will we sing and bless this place.

  ⌈The song. The fairies dance⌉

  OBERON

  Now until the break of day

  Through this house each fairy stray.

  To the best bride bed will we,

  Which by us shall blessèd be,

  And the issue there create

  Ever shall be fortunate.

  So shall all the couples three

  Ever true in loving be,

  And the blots of nature’s hand

  Shall not in their issue stand.

  Never mole, harelip, nor scar,

  Nor mark prodigious such as are

  Despised in nativity

  Shall upon their children be.

  With this field-dew consecrate

  Every fairy take his gait

  And each several chamber bless

  Through this palace with sweet peace;

  And the owner of it blessed

  Ever shall in safety rest.

  Trip away, make no stay,

  Meet me all by break of day. Exeunt all but Robin

  Epilogue

  ROBIN

  If we shadows have offended,

  Think but this, and all is mended:

  That you have but slumbered here,

  While these visions did appear;

  And
this weak and idle theme,

  No more yielding but a dream,

  Gentles, do not reprehend.

  If you pardon, we will mend.

  And as I am an honest puck,

  If we have unearned luck

  Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,

  We will make amends ere long,

  Else the puck a liar call.

  So, good night unto you all.

  Give me your hands, if we be friends,

  And Robin shall restore amends.

  ADDITIONAL PASSAGES

  An unusual quantity and kind of mislineation in the first edition has persuaded most scholars that the text at the beginning of 5.1 was revised, with new material written in the margins. We here offer a reconstruction of the passage as originally drafted, which can be compared with 5.1.1―86 of the edited text.

  5.1 Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate

  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 mad men have such seething brains.

  One sees more devils than vast hell can hold: 5

  That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic,

  Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt.

  Such tricks hath strong imagination

  That if it would but apprehend some joy

  It comprehends some bringer of that joy; 10

  Or in the night, imagining some fear,

  How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

  HIPPOLYTA

  But all the story of the night told over,

  And all their minds transfigured so together,

  More witnesseth than fancy’s images, 15

  And grows to something of great constancy;

  But howsoever, strange and admirable.

  Enter the lovers: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena

  THESEUS

  Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.

  Come now, what masques, what dances shall we

  have

  To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? 20

  Call Philostrate.

  PHILOSTRATE Here mighty Theseus.

  THESEUS

  Say, what abridgement 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. 25

  Make choice of which your highness will see first.

  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. 30

  ‘The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals

  Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.’

  That is an old device, and it was played

  When I from Thebes came last a conquerer.

  ‘The thrice-three Muses mourning for the death 35

  Of learning, late deceased 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.’ ’Tedious’ and ‘brief’? 40

  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. 45

  THESEUS What are they that do play it?

  PHILOSTRATE

  Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,

  Which never laboured in their minds till now,

  And now have toiled their unbreathed memories

  With this same play against your nuptial. 50

  THESEUS

  Go, bring them in; and take your places, ladies.

  Exit Philostrate

  HIPPOLYTA

  I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged

  And duty in his service perishing.

  KING JOHN

  A PLAY called The Troublesome Reign of John, King of England, published anonymously in 1591, has sometimes been thought to be a derivative version of Shakespeare’s King John, first published in the 1623 Folio; more probably Shakespeare wrote his play in 1595 or 1596, using The Troublesome Reign—itself based on Holinshed’s Chronicles and John Foxe’s Book of Martyrs (1563)—as his principal source. Like Richard II, King John is written entirely in verse.

  King John (c.1167―1216) was famous as the opponent of papal tyranny, and The Troublesome Reign is a violently anti-Catholic play; but Shakespeare is more moderate. He portrays selected events from John’s reign—like The Troublesome Reign, making no mention of Magna Carta—and ends with John’s death, but John is not so dominant a figure in his play as Richard II or Richard III in theirs. Indeed, the longest—and liveliest—role is that of Richard Coeur-de-lion’s illegitimate son, Philip Falconbridge, the Bastard.

  King John’s reign was troublesome initially because of his weak claim to his brother Richard Coeur-de-lion’s throne. Prince Arthur, son of John’s elder brother Geoffrey, had no less strong a claim, which is upheld by his mother, Constance, and by King Philip of France. The waste and futility of the consequent war between power-hungry leaders is satirically demonstrated in the dispute over the French town of Angers, which is resolved by a marriage between John’s niece, Lady Blanche of Spain, and Louis, the French Dauphin. The moral is strikingly drawn by the Bastard—the man best fitted to be king, but debarred by accident of birth—in his speech (2.1.562-99) on ’commodity’ (self-interest). King Philip breaks his treaty with England, and in the ensuing battle Prince Arthur is captured. He becomes the play’s touchstone of humanity as he persuades John’s agent, Hubert, to disobey John’s orders to blind him, only to kill himself while trying to escape. John’s noblemen, thinking the King responsible for the boy’s death, defect to the French, but return to their allegiance on learning that the Dauphin intends to kill them after conquering England. John dies, poisoned by a monk; the play ends with the reunited noblemen swearing allegiance to John’s son, the young Henry III, and with the Bastard’s boast thatThis England never did, nor never shall,

  Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror

  But when it first did help to wound itself.

  Twentieth-century revivals of King John were infrequent, but it was popular in the nineteenth century, when the roles of the King, the Bastard, and Constance all appealed to successful actors; a production of 1823 at Covent Garden inaugurated a trend for historically accurate settings and costumes which led to a number of spectacular revivals.

  THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

  KING JOHN of England

  QUEEN ELEANOR, his mother

  LADY FALCONBRIDGE

  Philip the BASTARD, later knighted as Sir Richard Plantagenet,

  her illegitimate son by King Richard I (Coeur-de-lion)

  Robert FALCONBRIDGE, her legitimate son

  James GURNEY, her attendant

  Lady BLANCHE of Spain, niece of King John

  PRINCE HENRY, son of King John

  HUBERT, a follower of King John

  Earl of SALISBURY

  Earl of PEMBROKE

  Earl of ESSEX

  Lord BIGOT

  KING PHILIP of France

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, his son

  ARTHUR, Duke of Brittaine, nephew of King John

  Lady coNSTANCE, his mother

  Duke of AUSTRIA (Limoges)

  CHTILLON, ambassador from France to England

  Count MELUN

  A CITIZEN of Angers

  Cardinal PANDOLF, a legate from the Pope

  PETER OF POMFRET, a prophet

  H
ERALDS

  EXECUTIONERS

  MESSENGERS

  SHERIFF

  Lords, soldiers, attendants

  The Life and Death of King John

  1.1 [Flourish.] Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, and the Earls of Pembroke, Essex, and Salisbury; with them Châtillon of France

  KING JOHN

  Now say, Châtillon, what would France with us?

  CHTILLON

  Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France,

  In my behaviour, to the majesty—

  The borrowed majesty—of England here.

  QUEEN ELEANOR

  A strange beginning: ‘borrowed majesty’?

  KING JOHN

  Silence, good mother, hear the embassy.

  CHTILLON

  Philip of France, in right and true behalf

  Of thy deceased brother Geoffrey’s son,

  Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim

  To this fair island and the territories,

  To Ireland, Poitou, Anjou, Touraine, Maine;

  Desiring thee to lay aside the sword

  Which sways usurpingly these several titles,

  And put the same into young Arthur’s hand,

  Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.

  KING JOHN

  What follows if we disallow of this?

  CHTILLON

  The proud control of fierce and bloody war,

  To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld—

  KING JOHN

  Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,

  Controlment for controlment: so answer France.

  CHTILLON

  Then take my king’s defiance from my mouth,

  The farthest limit of my embassy.

  KING JOHN

  Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace.

  Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France,

  For ere thou canst report, I will be there; 25

  The thunder of my cannon shall be heard.

  So hence. Be thou the trumpet of our wrath,

  And sullen presage of your own decay.—