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I wonder of their being here together.
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I wonder why theyre all here together.
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No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May, and hearing our intent Came here in grace our solemnity.
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Most likely they woke up early to celebrate May Day and, knowing we would be here, they came to attend and honor our ceremony.
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But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
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But tell me, Egeus, isnt today the day when Hermia has to tell us whether she's chosen Demetrius, death, or to become a virgin priestess?
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It is, my lord.
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It is, my lord.
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Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past. Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?
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Good morning, my friends. Valentines Day is over. Have you lovebirds only begun to couple up now?
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Pardon, my lord.
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Forgive us, my lord.
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I pray you all, stand up.
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Please, all of you, stand up.
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I know you two are rival enemies.
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I know you two are bitter rivals.
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How comes this gentle concord in the world, That hatred is so far from jealousy To sleep by hate and fear no enmity?
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What has happened to make the world such a gentle place that two people who hate each other somehow don't distrust each other, and in fact are willing to sleep next to an enemy without fear of being harmed?
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My lord, I shall reply amazdly, Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here.
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My lord, I can only respond that I am also baffled, and feel as if I am half asleep, half awake. I can't honestly say how I wound up here.
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But as I think for truly would I speak, And now do I bethink me, so it is I came with Hermia hither.
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But I think and I want to speak honestly, and now that I think about it, I'm sure it's true. I came here with Hermia.
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Our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, Without the peril of the Athenian law
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Our plan was to escape from Athens so that we could, without the threat of Athenian law
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Enough, enough, my lord. You have enough! I beg the law, the law, upon his head.
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Enough, enough, my lord. Youve heard enough: I ask that the law, the law, be brought down upon his head.
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They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me, You of your wife and me of my consent, Of my consent that she should be your wife.
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Demetrius, these two were going to run away in order to trick us, stealing your wife from you and stealing from me of my ability to order that she should be your wife.
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My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither to this wood. And I in fury hither followed them, Fair Helena in fancy following me.
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My lord, the beautiful Helena told me they were going to sneak away to escape into this forest. In a fury, I followed them here, and the lovely Helena followed me because of her love for me.
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But, my good lord, I wot not by what power But by some power it is my love to Hermia, Melted as the snow,
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Now, my good lord, I don't know what made this happen but by some power it did happen my love for Hermia melted away like snow.
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seems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gaud Which in my childhood I did dote upon.
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That love seems to me now like a memory of some worthless trinket I used to love when I was a child.
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And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object and the pleasure of mine eye, Is only Helena. To her, my lord, Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia.
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Now the only person to whom I want to be faithful, who owns my entire heart, who is the greatest pleasure to my eye, is Helena. I was engaged to her before I ever met Hermia.
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But like in sickness did I loathe this food. But as in health, come to my natural taste,
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But then, like a sick man who can't stand the food that sustains him, I hated her for a time. But now, healthy once again, my normal taste has returned.
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Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will for evermore be true to it.
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Now I want Helena. I love her, and long for her, and will always be true to her.
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Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse we more will hear anon. Egeus, I will overbear your will.
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Beautiful lovers, it's lucky that you've met me here. You'll tell me more about all of this later. Egeus, Im overruling your commands.
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For in the temple by and by with us These couples shall eternally be knit.
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Later on in the temple these couples will be married alongside Hippolyta and me.
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And, for the morning now is something worn, Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
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And now, because the morning is nearly over, we'll set aside our planned hunting.
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Away with us to Athens. Three and three, Well hold a feast in great solemnity. Come, Hippolyta.
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Come with us to Athens. Three men and three women, we'll throw a feast and celebration. Come along, Hippolyta.
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These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turnd into clouds.
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Everything that happened seems distant and difficult to figure out, like mountains that look like clouds from far away.
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Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When everything seems double.
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It seems to me that my eyes are out of focus, and everything looks double.
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So methinks. And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.
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Me too. It's like I came upon Demetrius like a jewel I found by accident, so that while he is in my possession, he might really belong to someone else.
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Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream.
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Are you sure that were awake? It seems to me like we are sleeping, and dreaming.
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Do not you think The duke was here, and bid us follow him?
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Do you think the duke was really just here, and told us to follow him?
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Yea, and my father.
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Yes I do, and my father was here too.
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And Hippolyta.
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And Hippolyta.
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And he did bid us follow to the temple.
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And he told us to follow him to the temple.
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Why then, we are awake. Lets follow him And by the way let us recount our dreams.
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Well, then, were awake. Lets follow him. And as we go, why don't we tell each other our dreams?
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When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is "Most fair Pyramus."
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When it's my cue, call me and I'll say my line. My next cue is "Most handsome Pyramus."
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Heigh-ho! Peter Quince? Flute the bellows-mender? Snout the tinker? Starveling? God's my life, stol'n hence, and left me asleep?
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Hey there! Peter Quince? Flute the bellows-repairman? Snout the repairman? Starveling? My God, they went away from here, and left me asleep?
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I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream.
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I have had the strangest dream. I have had a dream so strange that it's beyond explanation. A man would be a fool if he tried to explain this dream.
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Methought I was there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had but man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what methought I had.
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I thought I was well, nobody could describe what I was. I thought I was, and I thought I had but a man would have to be a true fool to try and say what I thought I had.
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The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was.
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My dream was so odd that no man's eyes have heard, or his ears have seen, or his hands have tasted, or his tongue felt, or his heart described what it was like.
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I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream. It shall be called "Bottom's Dream" because it hath no bottom.
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I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad about this dream. It will be called "Bottom's Dream" because it's so complex that it has no bottom.
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And I will sing it in the latter end of a play before the duke. Peradventure, to make it more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.
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And I'll sing it for the duke at the end of the play. Or, better yet, to make it more pleasing, I'll sing it when Thisbe dies.
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He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
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No ones heard from him. There's no question he's been kidnapped by fairies.
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If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes not forward. Doth it?
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If he doesnt come, then the play will be ruined. We won't be able to perform it. Will we?
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It is not possible. You have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.
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It wouldn't be possible. There's not another man in all of Athens who can play Pyramus besides Bottom.
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No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens.
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It's true. To be blunt, hes the smartest craftsman in Athens.
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Yea, and the best person too. And he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.
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Yes, and the best looking too. And his voice is the paramour of sweetness.
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Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.
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Gentlemen, the duke is leaving the temple, along with two or three additional lords and ladies who were also married. If we could only have performed our play, we would all have gotten rewards and been set for life.
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O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life.
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Oh that sweet, good guy, Bottom! By not being here he's missed out on a pension of six pence a day for the rest of his life.
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He could not have scaped sixpence a day. An the duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, Ill be hanged.
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He wouldn't have been able to avoid getting six pence a day, even if he'd wanted to. If the duke wouldnt have given him six pence a day for playing Pyramus, I'd go jump off a bridge.
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He would have deserved it. Sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.
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And he would have deserved it. Pyramus is worth six pence a day, or nothing at all.
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Where are these lads? Where are these hearts?
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Where are my boys? Where are my good fellows?
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Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour!
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Bottom! Oh, what a great day! Oh, what a happy moment!
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Masters, I am to discourse wonders but ask me not what, for if I tell you I am no true Athenian. I will tell you everything, right as it fell out.
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Gentlemen, I have incredible stories to tell you but dont ask me what, because if I told you, then I would not be a true Athenian citizen. Ill tell you everything, exactly how it happened.
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Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
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Tell us, good Bottom.
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Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is that the duke hath dined.
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You won't get a word out of me! All that I'll tell you is that the duke has had his dinner.
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Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps. Meet presently at the palace. Every man look o'er his part.
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Gather your costumes, some new strings for your false beards, and some new ribbons to decorate your shoes. Then meet me at the palace as soon as you can. We should each look over our lines again.
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For the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisbe have clean linen. And let not him that plays the lion pair his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion's claws.
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In sum, our play is going to be performed! So make sure that Thisbe has clean underpants. And make sure whoever is playing the lion doesn't cut down his nails, because they are going to need to stand in for the lion's claws.
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And most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath. And I do not doubt but to hear them say, "It is a sweet comedy." No more words. Away, go away!
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And, my most dear fellow actors, please don't eat onions or garlic. We must have sweet-smelling breath so the audience will say, "it's a sweet play." Enough talk. Come on, let's go!
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Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
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My dear Theseus, what these lovers are describing is strange.
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More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables nor these fairy toys.
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I think the story is more strange than it is true. I don't believe any of these ancient stories or fairy tales.
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Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.
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Lovers and madmen have so much going on in their heads, such active imaginations, that they see and hear things that cool, calm, rational people can't understand.
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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.
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Madmen, lovers, and poets all are all controlled by their imaginations: The ones who see devils and monsters all over the place those are the madmen.
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The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helens beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poets eye, in fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven.
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Lovers, who are just as wild, see a gypsy's face and think it is as beautiful as Helen of Troy's. Poets, who are always glancing around as if they are overcome by passion, make constant connections between things that are earthly and things that are heavenly.
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And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poets pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
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And they take the unreal things that tumble out of their imagination and write about them as if they were actual places or things.
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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 supposed a bear!
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When people who have such strong imaginations feel some kind of joy, they imagine that it must be some entity or power that brings or creates that joy. Or if, in the night, they feel some fear, they see a bush and imagine its a bear!
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But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together, More witnesseth than fancys images And grows to something of great constancy,
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But the full story that the lovers are telling about last night along with the fact that they all described it the same way suggests that it's something that they really experienced rather than some imagined fantasy.
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But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
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It has a consistency to it that suggests truth, even if it is strange and unbelievable.
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Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!
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Here come the lovers, full of joy and laughter. Joy to you, kind friends! May joy and sweet days of love be with you always.
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More than to us Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
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May even more joy than you wish for us await you on your royal journeys, at your table, and in your bed!
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Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
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Now, what performances and dances will we see to pass these three hours between dinner and bedtime?
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Where is our usual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand?
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Where is our Master of the Revels ? What entertainments do we have ready?
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Is there no play, To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philostrate.
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Isnt there a play for us to watch to ease the torture of free time? Call Philostrate.
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Here, mighty Theseus.
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Im here, Theseus.
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Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What masque, what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time if not with some delight?
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Tell us, what entertainment do you have that will shorten the evening? What plays, what music? How will we enjoy this boring time without some entertainment?
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There is a brief, how many sports are ripe. Make choice of which your highness will see first.
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That is a list of all of the performances that are ready to go. Choose which one your highness would like to see first.
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œThe battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.
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œThe battle between Hercules and the Centaurs at the wedding feast of Pirothous, sung by an Athenian eunuch accompanied by a harp.
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Well none of that. That have I told my love, In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
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No, we dont want that. Ive already told that story to Hippolyta, telling her of the glory of my cousin Hercules. What else?
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œThe riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.
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œThe riot of the drunk Bacchanals who in the grip of their drunken frenzy rip the singer Orpheus to shreds.
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That is an old device, and it was played When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
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Thats a story often told in plays, and I saw it when I returned from conquering Thebes.
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œThe thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceased in beggary.
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œThe nine Muses mourning the death of learning and the arts, which lately have become so reduced.
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That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
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Thats a satire a sharp and critical satire and wouldnt be right to perform at a wedding.
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œA tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe. Very tragical mirth.
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œA boring short drama about young Pyramus and his love Thisbe. Very sad and funny.
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œMerry and œtragical? œTedious and œbrief? That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord?
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Funny and sad? Short but still boring? Thats like hot ice and very strange snow. What will we think of this play which claims to be such contradictory things?
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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.
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My lord, it is a play that's about ten words long, which is the shortest play Ive ever encountered. But, my lord, its ten words too long, which is what makes it tedious.
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For in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
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In the entire play, there is not one well-placed word, and not one actor is a good fit for his part.
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And tragical, my noble lord, it is. For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
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It is tragic, my noble lord, because Pyramus does kill himself.
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Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess, Made mine eyes water but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed.
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When I saw the suicide during rehearsal, I must admit that it brought tears to my eyes but I've never cried tears of such loud and merry laughter.
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What are they that do play it?
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Who are the people performing it?
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Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, Which never labored in their minds till now,
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Manual workers from here in Athens who have never until now spent much doing anything that required thinking.
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And now have toiled their unbreathed memories With this same play against your nuptial.
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Now theyve overburdened their under-exercised brains to create this play for your wedding.
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And we will hear it.
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And we will watch it.
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No, my noble lord. It is not for you.
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No, my noble lord. Its not something youll like.
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I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world
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Ive seen it, and its worthless, as worthless as anything ever created
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Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretched and conned with cru 'l pain To do you service.
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unless you find their sad attempt funny, with their bad acting and incorrectly remembered lines.
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I will hear that play.
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Ill watch this play.
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For never anything can be amiss When simpleness and duty tender it.
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Because nothing can be bad when its motivated by a simple desire to bring pleasure to a person's betters.
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Go, bring them in. And take your places, ladies.
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Go and bring them in. And find your seats, ladies.
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I love not to see wretchedness o'er charged And duty in his service perishing.
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I dont enjoy seeing incompetent people overwhelmed and made to look bad when they are only trying to serve.
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Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
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Why, my noble love, you wont see any such thing.
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He says they can do nothing in this kind.
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Philostrate says theyre not good at acting.
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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.
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Then were even more kind, for giving them thanks for something theyre not good at. Our entertainment will be to watch their mistakes, and what their own poor talent can't accomplish. Our noble generosity will see the effort they are giving rather than the quality of their performance.
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