1 With duty and desire we follow you.
2 Flute, you must take Thisbe on you.
3 Therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
4 I have some private schooling for you both.
5 Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe's mother.
6 A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.
7 No, no, you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisbe.
8 You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.
9 Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced.
10 Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
11 You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisbe's father; Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part.
12 I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us.
13 But I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.'
14 If 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.
15 To you your father should be as a god; One that compos'd your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
16 And in the wood where often you and I Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet, There my Lysander and myself shall meet, And thence from Athens turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies.
17 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 mew'd, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
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