Philoft. There is a brief, how many fports are ripe: (31) Make choice of which your Highness will fee firft. [Giving a paper. Thef.reads.] The battel with the Centaurs, to be fung (33) By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. We'll none of that. That I have told my love, Tearing the Thracian finger in their rage. (32) bow many sports are rife:] I have chofen to reftore from one of the old quarto's printed in 1600, ripe, as the most proper word here: ipe, fignifying any thing ready for ufe; rife, only the great increase of any thing. (33) Lyf. The battel with the Centaurs] Here the fixteen lines, that follow, from the time of the firft folio edition put out by the players, have impertinently been divided, by two verfes alternately, betwixt Thefeus and Lyfander. But what has Lyfander to do in the affair? He is no courtier of Thefeus's, but only an occafional gueft; and just come out of the woods, so not likely to know what sports were in preparation. I have taken the old quarto's for my guides, in regulating this paffage. Thefeus asks after entertainment. Phi leftrate, who is his mafter of the revels, gives him in a lift of what fports are ready: upon which, Thefeus reads the titles of them out of the lift, and then alternately makes his remarks upon them. And this, I dare fay, was the Poet's own defign and diftribution. For For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I faw rehears'd, I must confefs, Philoft. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Philoft. No, my noble Lord, It is not for you. I have heard it over, Thef. I will hear that play: For never any thing can be amifs, When fimplenefs and duty tender it. Go,bring them in,and take your places Ladies. [Exit Phil Thef. Why, gentle sweet, you shall fee no fuch thing. Το greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have feen them fhiver and look pale, Make periods in the midft of fentences, Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears, And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off, (34) And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect Takes it in might, not merit.] What cars have thefe poetical editors, to palm this line upon us is a ve fe of Shakespeare? 'Tis certain, an epithet had flip out, and I have ventur'd to reftore fuch a one as the fenfe ray dif, enfe with; and which makes the two verfes flowing and perfect. Not Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, fweet, I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Love therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity, Enter Philoftrate. Phil. So please your Grace, the prologue is addreff. Thef. Let him approach. Enter Quince, for the prologue. [Flour. Trum Prol. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you fhould think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To fhew our fimple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Confider then, we come but in defpight.. We do not come, as minding to content you, (35) Our true intept is.-all for your delight, We are not here.-that you should here repent you, The actors are at hand; and by their fhow, You shall know all, that you are like to know. Thef. This fellow doth not ftand upon points. Ly. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; he knows not the ftop. A good moral, my Lord. It is not enough to fpeak, but to speak true. Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on his prologue, like a child on the recorder; a found, but not in government. (35) We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is all for your delight, We are not here that you should bere repent you, The Actors are at band; &c] Thus the late accurate editor, deviating from all the old copies, has, by a certain peculiar fatality, pointed this paffage. The whole glee and humour of the prologue is in the actor's making falfe refts, and fo turning every member of the fentences into flagrant nonfenfe. And Mr. Pope feems very cruel to our Author, (confidering how many paffages, which should have been pointed right, he has pointed wrong;) that here, when he should point wrong, with a strange perverfenefs, and unufual appetite for fenfe, he will point right. Thef The. His fpeech was like a tangled chain; nothing impair'd, but all diforder'd. Who is the next? Enter Pyramus, and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Prol. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show, This beauteous Lady, Thisby is, certain. } This man with lime and rough-caft, doth prefent [Exeunt all but Wall. Thef. I wonder, if the Lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my Lord; one Lion may, when many affes do. (36) which Lion bight by name.] As all the other parts of this fpeech are in alternate rhyme, excepting that it clofes with a couples; and as no rhyme is left to, name; we must conclude, either a, verfe is flipt out, which cannot now be retriev'd; or, by a tranfpofition of the words, as I have placed them, the Poet intended a trip let. Wall Wall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befal, That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: (37) And fuch a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink; Through which the lovers, Pyr'mus and This by, Did whisper often very fecretly. This loam, this rough-caft, and this ftone doth fhew, And this the cranny is, right and finifter, The Pyramus draws near the wall: filence! Enter Pyramus. Pyr. Ogrim-look'd night! O night with hue fo black I fear, my Thibe's promife is forgot. That ftands between her father's ground and mine Thou wall, O wall, O fweet and lovely wall, Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne. Thanks, courteous wall; Jove fhield thee well for this But what fee I? no Thisby do I fee, O wicked wall, through whom I fee no bliss; Thef. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould curfe again. Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he fhould not. Deceiving me, is Thiby's cue; he is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You fhall fee, it will fall pat as I Yonder fhe comes. told you. (37) That I, one Flute by name,] Thus Mr. Pope gives it us, either from the old quarto's, or by accident. But accident, or authority, happens to be wrong in it and we must restore, Snout, with the ad folio'; for it appears in the first act, that Flute was to perform Tbifbe. Enter |