It's on a summer night. A dream in a summer night. Aegeus, father of Hermia

CHARACTERS

Theseus, Duke of Athens.
Aegeus, father of Hermia.
Lysander |
) in love with Hermia.
Demetri |
Philostratus, manager of the festivities at the court of Theseus.
Wedge, carpenter.
Saw, carpenter.
Hank, weaver.
Duda, the bellows repairer.
Snout, coppersmith.
Frozen, tailor.
Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, fiancee of Theseus.
Hermia, daughter of Aegeus, in love with Lysander.
Helena in love with Demetrius.
Oberon, king of the elves.
Titania, queen of the elves.
Puck, or Rogue Robin.
Bob |
Gossamer) elves.
Moth |
Mustard |
Elves and fairies from the retinue of Oberon and Titania.
Suite of Theseus and Hippolyta.

Location: Athens and the nearby forest.

STEP ONE

EVENT 1

Athens. Theseus Palace.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostratus, and Retinue.

Theseus
The hour of our wedding is at hand, Hippolyta:
Only four days until the new moon.
But the old moon melts for so long
And won't let my wishes come true
Like a stepmother with a lifetime income
Healed stepson to the detriment.

Hippolyta
Four days will easily drown in the night,
Four nights sleep will rush away easily,
And the new month, bending in the sky
His silvery bow, cast a glance
The night of our wedding.

Theseus
Philostratus, go
Call the youth of Athens to fun,
Ignite the lively and ardent spirit of fun.
Disheartened place at a funeral;
We don't need this pale-faced guest.
Exit Philostratus.
I wooed you with a sword, Hippolyta,
I won your love with cruelty;
But I will play the wedding in a different way,
Among celebrations, and spectacles, and feasts.
Enter Aegeus, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.
Aegeus
May our Duke Theseus be happy!
Theseus
Thanks Egey. What did you come with?
Aegeus
Full of indignation, I came with a complaint
To Hermia, to my own daughter.
Here, Demetrius! This person
I, sovereign, promised her as a husband.
Over here, Lysander! And this man
Bewitched her soul, my duke.
You, you, Lysander! You wore poetry to her
Changed love pledges;
You are under her window, in the moonlight,
She languidly sang about languid love;
You captured her imagination
Giving either a lock of your hair, or a ring,
Flowers, gifts, memos, knick-knacks, -
Such ambassadors are willingly trusted by youth;
You stole my daughter's heart
You turned child obedience
In obstinacy. Sovereign,
When she is here in front of you,
Demetrius will reject, I will resort
To the ancient custom of Athens:
She is mine and I have power over her.
Therefore, I will give my daughter
I will doom Demetrius to death,
As provided by law.
Theseus
What do you say, Hermia? Child, think
Your father is like God to you;
He is the one who created your beauty;
You are just a wax form for him,
Which he fashioned and dominated
Either leave it as it is, or destroy it.
Demetrius is a very worthy man.
Hermia
So is Lysander.
Theseus
On my own;
But here, since your father does not want him,
We recognize the other as the most worthy.
Hermia
Oh, if my father looked like me!
Theseus
No, you have to look through his eyes.
Hermia
May Your Grace excuse me.
I don't know what gives me courage
And how my modesty allows me
Raise your voice in such a presence;
But I ask: let me know
The worst that can threaten me
When I refuse my hand to Demetrius.
Theseus
Will you accept death or forever be
Excommunicated from the society of men.

Comedy "Dream in midsummer night”Was written by W. Shakespeare in 1590. The play consists of five acts. He wrote this work in honor of the wedding of a famous aristocrat.

The play takes place in Athens. Duke Theseus is preparing for his own wedding. His bride is the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta.

The beautiful Hermia is madly in love with Lysander, who reciprocates her love. However, not only he shows interest in the girl, there is another one of her admirers, Demetrius. Aegeus, father of Hermia, supports Demetrius.

Since Hermia refuses to marry Demetrius, Aegeus turns to Theseus. If Hermia refuses, then she is waiting for the death penalty, because according to the laws of those times, the father has the right to dispose of the body and fate. The Duke of Athens gives Hermia the right to choose: marriage, execution or a vow of celibacy.

Lysander tries to persuade Theseus to reverse this decision. He tries to prove to the duke that he is no worse than Demetrius. Lysander has as much wealth as Demetrius, the feelings of Lysander and Hermia are mutual, unlike his rival.

Lysander invites the girl to secretly marry his aunt, not far from Athens. They tell Elena about their plan, who is not indifferent to Demetrius. Elena, taking advantage of the moment, told her lover everything in order to get at least a modicum of gratitude.

Preparations for the wedding of Theseus continue. The masters decided to make a gift for the newlyweds, to stage a comedy about Thisbe and Pyramus. The play is directed by Peter Pigwa.

Not far from Athens, the elf Pack meets a fairy. They were thwarted by Oberon and Titania. She proves to Oberon that the disruptions in the change of seasons are due to their quarrel, and this adversely affects people. In order not to quarrel further, the spouses disperse in different directions.

Pack, on Oberon's orders, must bring the magic flower "Love in Idleness", which Cupid accidentally hit with an arrow. The fact is that the juice of the plant is unusual, it is endowed with magical qualities: if the substance touches the eyelids of a sleeping person, then he will fall in love with the first person he sees when he wakes up. Oberon wanted to use it miraculous plant for his wife to take away from her the child she had stolen from the Sultan. Seeing Demetrius and Helen, he turns invisible.

Titania slumbers quietly on the lawn. Rehearsals take place in the same place. Baek is present at the rehearsal of the actors. The base plays the role of Pyramus, he goes into the bushes, and returns to the site already with a donkey's head. All the actors are shocked by what is happening, they run away. Because of the noise, Titania wakes up and sees the Foundation first. She confesses her love to him.

Lysander compliments Helen, but she thinks he is mocking her. Hermia demands an explanation from her beloved, but he humiliates her, she understands that he just hated her. Hermia and Elena quarrel and start a fight.

Now two heroes are fighting for Elena's heart. Peck is happy with what is happening. On Oberon's orders, Peck smears Lizard's eyelids with an ointment that removes the magic.

Two rivals and two ladies of their hearts fell asleep side by side in the forest.

Having received what he desired from his wife, Oberon removes magic from her. He reconciles with his wife and they fly away.

Early in the morning, Theseus, along with Hippolyta and Aegeus, set off for the forest. There they discover the sleeping Lizard, Demetrius, Helen and Hermia. They explain everything to the Duke. Demetrius says that he always loved Elena and only wants to be with her, and Hermia was just a fleeting hobby.

The Duke invites everyone to the temple to marry three couples in love.

Theseus, together with the guests, watches the production of artisans. After watching the play, everyone gets ready for bed.

Peck appears at this place, he cleans up, prepares a place for the elves. Titania and Oberon with their retinue sing and have fun.

A picture or drawing of a Midsummer Night's Dream

"A Midsummer Night's Dream (A Midsummer Night's Dream)"

Dream on Midsummer Night.

ACTING PERSONS.

Theseus, Duke of Athens.

Aegeus, father of Hermia.

Lysander and Demetrius in love with Hermia.

Philostratus, master of Theseus' festivities.

Pigwa, the carpenter.

Drill, carpenter.

Hank, weaver.

Dudka, a trader in inflated furs.

Snout, coppersmith.

Otter, tailor.

Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, fiancee of Theseus.

Hermia, daughter of Aegeus, in love with Lysander.

Helena in love with Demetrius.

Oberon, king of the elves.

Poke or good-natured Robin, elf.

Titania, queen of the zlphs.

Sweet pea, Gossamer, Moth, Mustard seed - elves.

Pyramus, Thisbee, Wall, Moonlight, Lion - persons participating in the sideshow.

Elves accompanying Oberon and Titania. Courtiers of Theseus and Hippolyta.

Location: Athens and the adjacent forest.

STEP ONE

Enter: Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostratus, and retinue.

Theseus. Beauty Hippolyta, the hour of our marriage is fast approaching. After four blessed days, a new month will come. But old, I think you kill extraordinarily slowly; he delays the fulfillment of my desires, like a stepmother or a widow who hesitates for a long time to hand over her property to a young heir.

Hippolyta. The four nights will quickly consume the remaining four days, and dreaming those four nights will help shorten the time. And when they pass, the new moon, bent in the sky with a silver arc, will see the night of our triumph.

Theseus. Go, Philostratus, inspire the Athenian youth and tell them to rejoice. Yes, awaken in her a lively, frisky spirit of fun. Sorrow is appropriate only for funeral processions, and she, pale, is not a companion to our rejoicing (Philostratus to leave). You, Hippolyta, I snatched with my sword; insulting you, got your love. Now I want a different order for our marriage, that is, feasts, festivities and celebrations.

Enter Aegeus, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.

Hey. I wish all happiness to Theseus, our glorious duke.

Theseus. Thank you, dear Aegeus. What will you tell us new?

Hey. With a soul filled with sorrow, I came to you with a complaint about my daughter Hermia. Demetrius, come closer. Sovereign, this man has received my consent to marry her. Come, too, Lysander. But this, my kindest duke, completely bewitched my child. You, Lysander, gave her poems, exchanged pledges of love with her, sang songs under her window in the moonlight and promised her false love in a false voice. You won her favor with wrists made from your hair, rings, trinkets, various frivolous trinkets, flowers, delicacies. Thanks to these messengers, before whom tender youth is unable to resist, you treacherously stole the heart of my daughter and turned into stubborn defiance the obedience with which she is obliged to fulfill the will of her father. Therefore, good duke, I beg you, if she refuses to marry Demetrius even here in your presence, let me use the old Athenian law. Since she is mine, I can dispose of her, and I dispose of her in this way: I doom her either to marry this man, or, according to the ancient law that foresaw this event, to death.

Theseus. What do you say, Hermia? Sweet girl, make up your mind. Your father should be your god: he is the creator of your beauty. For him, you are the same as a wax or fashioned doll, which he is free to either keep intact or destroy. Demetrius is a decent young man.

Hermia. And Lysander is also worthy.

Theseus. Let's put it that way. But, bearing in mind your father's desire, preference should be given to the first.

Hermia. Why doesn't my father want to look through my eyes?

Theseus. Not he, but you must look through the eyes of his prudence.

Hermia. Forgive me Duke. What strength gives me courage and how much, expressing my thoughts in such a presence, I can damage my modesty, I do not know. I beg your ladyship to tell me: - if I refuse to marry Demetrius, what can be expected of me the worst?

Theseus. Or death, or excommunication forever from the society of men. So, pretty Hermia, think about it. Take into account your youth and ask your blood carefully whether it is capable, if you do not yield to the desire of your father, to wear the clothes of a hermit forever. Think: you will be imprisoned forever in a gloomy monastery, where you will lead the life of a pitiful priestess, singing languid hymns to the cold, barren moon. Thrice blessed are those who are so able to curb their blood that they are able to go through their entire life path as virgins. But, speaking in earthly terms, a plucked rose is happier than the one that, withering on a virgin stem, grows, lives and dies in lonely bliss.

Hermia. I, my lord, would rather grow, live and die in this way, than put my neck under a heavy yoke, which I hate.

Theseus. I give you time to change your mind. On the next new moon, that is, on the day of my union with my beloved for eternal cohabitation - yes, on the same day, if you do not agree to marry Demetrius, be ready either to die for your disobedience to your father, or to bring Diana to the altar a vow of eternal purity and solitude.

Demetrius. Listen to your father and the duke, beautiful Hermia. And you too, Lysander, renounce your absurd intention to interfere with my indisputable right.

Lysander. You, Demetrius, have acquired the love of your father; marry him, if you like, but leave Hermia to me.

Hey. Yes, stubborn Lysander, he has acquired my love and everything that is mine, this love transfers to him. The daughter is mine, and I transfer all my rights to her to Demetrius.

Lysander. I, my lord, am by no means inferior to him. I'm as rich as he is, but I love more than he does. I am in every respect, if not superior, then equal to Demetrius; but more importantly, I am loved by the beautiful Hermia. Why shouldn't I take my advantage? In his presence, I affirm that Demetrius courted Elena, the daughter of Nadar, took possession of her heart, and she, poor woman, loves to adoration, simply idolizes this criminally fickle person.

Theseus. I confess that I heard about this and even wanted to talk to Demetrius about this matter, but, burdened with my own affairs, I still forgot to do this. Let's go, Demetrius! Go and you, Egey. Follow me both. For both of you, I have some secret instructions. And you, beautiful Hermia, if you do not want the law of Athens, which we cannot soften, to condemn you to death or eternal loneliness, try to yield to the will of your father. Let's go, Hippolyta. How do you see it, my dear? Demetrius and you, Aegeus, follow me too. I need to talk to you about something about our wedding and then about something about you.

Hey. We are going after you out of duty and at will (Leaves with Theseus, Hippolyta and Demetrius; their retinue follows them).

Lysander. Well, my love? How pale you are! Why did the roses on your cheeks wither so quickly?

Hermia. Probably from the lack of rain that the storm that burst before my eyes could always shower them.

Lysander. Alas, I never knew from books or oral tradition that the flow of true love was ever serene. Happiness resents the difference in birth...

Hermia. Yes, woe when those who are set too high are captivated by those who stand too low.

Lysander. That difference in years ...

Hermia. Woe when the too old wants to associate itself with the too young.

Lysander. That the need to obey someone else's choice ...

Hermia. Oh, if in love you have to submit to the choice of other people's eyes, this is absolute hell.

Lysander. If the choice turns out to be even happy, then war, then death, then illness threatens happiness, making it instantaneous, like a sound, fleeting like a shadow, brief like a dream, and elusive, like lightning that opens the sky on a black night and, before you have time say: "look," again swallowing the earth with a merciless maw of darkness. Yes, everything bright fades too quickly.

Hermia. If sincerely loving people have always encountered obstacles, then this is a predestination of fate. Let us learn to be patient with the obstacles we meet, since these obstacles are a common thing, just as inevitable in love as its constant companions are dreams and sighs, desires and tears.

Lysander. It's quite convincing, so listen, Hermia. I have an aunt, a childless widow with a large fortune - her house is seven miles from Athens - and she loves me as she loves the mother of her only son. There, dear Hermia, I can marry you, there the strict law of Athens is powerless. If you love me, leave quietly tomorrow your father's house, and I will wait for you in a grove only a mile away from the city, in the same grove where I already met you once when you and Elena celebrated May morning.

Hermia. Oh, my dear Lysander, I swear to you the most merciless bow of Cupid, his best arrow with a golden tip, the ingenuous doves of Venus, everything that binds souls and makes love happy, the fire that burned the queen of Carthage when she saw the sails of the deceitful Trojan fleeing from her; I swear by all the oaths ever broken by men, still more numerous than ever spoken by women, that tomorrow I will certainly be with you at the appointed place.

Lysander. Keep your promise, my dear. And here, look, and Elena.

Elena enters.

Hermia. Hello beautiful Elena. Where are you going?

Elena. Are you saying beauty? Take back that word. Demetri loves your beauty. Oh happy beauty! Your eyes are guiding stars, and the sweet sounds of your voice are more pleasant to him than the song of the lark to the shepherd, when the fields turn green and the hawthorn blossoms. Illness is clingy—oh, if only beauty were the same! I would have been infected by yours, beautiful Hermia, I would not have left you a single step until my ears were infected by your voice, my eyes by your look, my tongue by the charming harmony of your speech. If the whole world belonged to me, I, with the exception of Demetrius, would give it all, just to be transformed into you. Oh, teach me to look like you, teach me the sorcery with which you captured the heart of Demetrius!

Hermia. I turn away from him, but he still loves me.

Elena. Oh, if only your intractability conveyed this strength to my smiles!

Hermia. I curse him, and he answers me with love.

Elena. Oh, that my entreaties would arouse such disposition in him!

Hermia. The more I hate him, the more he haunts me with his pleas.

Elena. The more I love him, the more he hates me

Hyermia. It's his fault, Elena, not mine.

Elena. Not yours, but the fault of your beauty. Oh, why is it not my fault!

Hermia. Take comfort, he will no longer see my face: Lysander and I are fleeing from here. Until I saw Lysander, Athens seemed like paradise to me. How great is the power of my beloved, when he turned heaven itself into hell!

Lysander. Elena, and we will reveal everything to you. Tomorrow night, when Phoebe sees her silvery face in a mirror of water and cleans the meadow with liquid diamonds, that is, at the hour that always covers the flight of lovers, we will leave Athens.

Hermia. And in that same grove in which you and I so often, resting on a bed of flowers, passed on our sweet dreams to each other, we will meet with Lysander in order to turn our eyes away from Athens and seek new friends in a society alien to us. Farewell, dear friend of my childhood! Pray for us the gods, and may they send you the happiness of your Demetrius. Keep your word, Lysander. Let us only make our eyes starve until midnight tomorrow and impose on them abstinence from the sweet food of love (Exit).

Lysander. I will, my Hermia. Farewell, Elena! Let Demetrius also sigh for you, as you sigh for him (leaves).

Elena. Oh, how happy some are happier than others! In Athens they find that I'm as good as she is, but so what? Demetrius does not find it. He doesn't want to know what everyone knows but him. And as he errs when he raves about Hermia's eyes, so I raving about his perfections. Love even to the most insignificant, the most worthless person can give both beauty and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the heart. That is why the winged Cupid is portrayed as blind: love does not know how to reason; possessing wings, but devoid of eyes, it serves as an emblem of irreparable frivolity. Therefore, he so often makes mistakes in choosing, and for this he is called a child. Just as playful children often change a given word in games, so a child-love constantly changes his oaths. So Demetrius, until he saw Hermia, showered me with a hail of assurances that he exclusively belonged to me. But as soon as the warm ray of Hermia's beauty touched this ice, it melted and crumbled into a whole stream of rain. I will go and tell him about the escape that Hermia is plotting; tomorrow night he will chase her into the forest. It will also be a great reward for me if he thanks me for this notice. I, at least, will relieve my suffering by being there with him and with him I will return from there (leaves).

There. A room in Pigwa's house.

Enter: Drill, Hank, Pipe, Snout, Pigwa and Otter.

Pigwa. Are all of us in the collection?

Hank. It would be better for you to make us a roll call, first to everyone in general, and then one by one.

Pigwa. Here full list the names of those persons who are recognized in all Athens as capable of playing our sideshow in the presence of the duke and duchess on the night after their marriage.

Hank. First of all, good Peter Pigwa, what is the play about? Then read the names of the actors, and then proceed to the distribution of roles.

Pigwa. You see, the play is our most deplorable comedy; the death of Pyramus and Thisbe is depicted in it.

Hank. It must be a great thing and hilarious! Now, good Peter Pigwa, call your actors according to the list. Get in line, gentlemen.

Pigwa. Answer the call. Nick Motoc, weaver!

Hank. Here! Tell me what role is assigned to me and continue.

Pigwl. You, Nick Motoc, are assigned the role of Pyramus.

Hank. What is Pyramus? lover or tyrant?

Pigwa. A lover who kills himself for love in the purest way.

Hank. Well, for the performance of this role will require tears? If I play, take care, listeners, eyes. I will make the stones move and in some way evoke universal condolences. Now further. I'm mostly good at playing tyrant roles. I would have played Hercules marvelously or any such tearing and crushing role.

"Wild rocks, their shaking

The doors of the dungeon in me will crush.

From the chariot-zh shining Phoebe

The deeds of foolish fate will perish."

This is what is called beautiful and more beautiful than anything in the world! Now call out the names of the other actors. This is Yeraklov's technique, a purely tyrannical technique. The lover speaks more plaintively.

Pigwa. Francis Dudka, salesman of inflatable furs.

Dudka. Peter Pigwa, I'm here.

Pigwa. You have to take on the role of Thisby.

Dudka. What is Fisby? errant knight?

Pigwa. This is the girl Pyramus is in love with.

Dudka. No, do me a favor, don't make me play a woman: I already have a beard.

Pigwa. It's okay, you can play her in a mask. You will have to speak as loudly as possible.

Hank. And if you can hide the beard under the mask, let me play Thisbe too. I will speak in an amazingly thin voice. - Fispa, Fispa! - "Ah, Pyramus, my lover!

Pigwa. No, no, you have to play Pyramus, and you're Dudka, play Thisbee.

Hank. OK then. Continue.

Pigwa. Robin Otter, tailor!

Otter. Here, Peter Pigwa.

Pigwa. You, Robin Otter, will have to play Thisby's mother. Now Tom Snout, coppersmith.

Snout. Here, Peter Pigwa.

Pigwa. You will be the father of Pyramus, and I myself will be the father of Thisby. Drill, carpenter! Take on the role of a lion. Here, it seems, and all the roles in the play are distributed.

Burav. And what, the role of a lion is already written for you? If it has been written, give it to me now, because I am terribly difficult to memorize.

Pigwa. You can play it without memorizing it, because all you have to do is roar.

Hank. Let me play the lion, I'll roar so that everyone will make me listen. Yes, I will roar so that the duke himself will say: "Let him roar some more, let him roar."

Pigwa. And if you roar too terribly, you will frighten both the duchess and her entourage so much that they themselves will squeal. And that will be enough to hang us all.

All. How to hang us all? us sons of our mothers?

Hank. I agree, friends: if we frighten the ladies so much that they lose their heads, they, of course, will not be ashamed to hang us. But I will raise my voice to such an extent, I will glow so pleasantly, that they will take me for a cooing dove. I will roar like a nightingale.

Pigwa. You cannot play any other role than Pyramus, because Pyramus is a man of pleasant appearance, a man so beautiful that you will not find him better on the clearest summer day. He is a very kind person; therefore, willy-nilly, you must play Pyramus.

Hank. Okay, I'll try. And what kind of beard will I have to wear for this role?

Pigwa. Which one do you want.

Hank. I can grab her with a straw-colored beard, and with dark orange, and with crimson red, and with a beard of the color of a French head, that is, completely yellow.

Pigwa. Why, many French heads are completely hairless; therefore, you would probably have to play without a beard at all. Well, gentlemen, here are your roles. And I beg, I urge, and I implore you to learn them by heart by tomorrow night, and then, by moonlight, meet with me in the palace forest, which is one mile outside the city. We will rehearse there. Because if we met in the city, we would not get rid of the crowd of curious people and our intention would be revealed. In the meantime, I will make a list of everything that we lack for presentation. Please don't deceive me.

Hank. To make a rehearsal there will be both more convenient and freer for us.

Pigwa. Try to stand out. Farewell. The meeting is scheduled at the ducal oak.

Hank. Okay, it wasn't! (They leave).

ACT TWO.

Forest near Athens.

Fairy enters from one side, Pok enters from the other.

Pok. What's new, fairy? Where are you going?

Fairy. Over the mountains and over the valleys,

But thorny bushes

I flutter carelessly

Running ahead of the moon.

To me, the queen of the fairies, the maid,

Are not an obstacle

Not a thousand shady parks,

Neither fire nor water rivers.

And I serve her diligently

Meadow green irrigating

Refreshing dew.

And I sprinkle it with flowers

What is fragrance all around

They spill relentlessly.

I need to collect here a few drops of dew and, like pearls, hang them to the ear of each initial letter. Farewell, most ignorant of all spirits, I have no time. Our queen, and with her all the elves, will now come here.

Pok. And our king celebrates this night here. Take care, queen, do not show yourself in his eyes, because he is terribly annoyed and angry that the beautiful boy, stolen from the Indian king, is still in her retinue. She had never had such a cute baby. The envious Oberon would like him to be his page and wander with him through the dense forests. She does not want to give in for anything, she crowns him with flowers and cannot stop looking at him. Because of this, wherever they now meet - in a grove, in a meadow, at a clear source, with the shining of bright stars - they always have such a quarrel that all the elves crawl into acorn cups in fear and hide there.

Fairy. If your appearance and your whole appearance do not deceive me, you are a cunning, rogue spirit, called the prankster Robin. It's you who scare village girls You skim the cream off the milk, sometimes you make the hand mill work, you prevent the sweating hostess from churning the butter, sometimes you don’t let the drink ferment, you lead the night wanderers astray and amuse their annoyance. For the one who calls you the Gobgoblin or the dearest Pok, you work for glory and bring him all the luck. Are you Pok?

Pok. You are not mistaken, fairy: I am this cheerful night tramp. I amuse Oberon by making him smile when, imitating the neighing of a young mare, I swindle a fat stallion gorged on peas. Sometimes, in the form of a baked apple, I climb into a gossip mug, and if she decides to drink, I hit her on the lips and pour beer over her withered chest. Even the wisest of aunts, telling the most deplorable of all stories, sometimes takes me for a tripod bench, but I slip out from under what she is sitting on, and she, flying upside down on the floor, shouts: - "Ai! Ai!", meanwhile, the cough is choking her. Looking at this, the whole company dies with laughter, sneezes and swears that they have never seen anything funnier. Get out, though, here comes Oberon.

Fairy. My queen is coming too. Oh, if only he'd get out of here soon!

On one side enters Oberon with his retinue, on the other, Titania with hers.

Oberon. A moonlight meeting with you, adamant Titania, is far from a pleasant meeting.

Titania. Oh, jealous Oberon is here. Fairies, get out of here! I renounce his company, just as I renounce his lodge.

Oberon. Stop, you crazy, willful wife! Am I not your husband?

Titania. If so, then I must be your wife. But I know that you secretly flew away from the land of fairies, spent whole days in the form of Korin near the enamored Felida, playing on a straw pipe and singing to her about your love. Why have you come here from the far reaches of India? To be present at the marriage with Theseus of your full-bodied, flaunting Amazon, your militant beloved! You came here to bestow joy and happiness on their bed.

Oberon. Aren't you ashamed, Titania, to reproach me for my affection for Hippolyta, when I know perfectly well your passion for Theseus? Didn't you, on a starry night, take him away from the Perigenia he had kidnapped, didn't you make him break the oath given by the beauties Aigle, Ariadne and Antiope?

Titania. All this is nothing but inventions inspired by jealousy. Not once, from the very beginning of summer, neither on the hills, nor in the valleys, nor in the meadows, nor in the forests, nor near the streams running along the rocky bed, nor near the rivers bordered by reeds, nor on the edge of the sea washed by waves, have we ever succeeded to the rustle of the wind to lead our round dances without you upsetting our fun with your absurd interference. As if in retaliation for the fact that they whistled to us in vain, the winds caused contagious fogs from the sea, which, falling to the ground, so overwhelmed every river that they all protruded from their banks. That is why the bull pulled his yoke in vain, and the farmer sweated in vain, the corn rotted, being still completely green and not having lived up to the harvest. Hay rots in waterlogged meadows, and crows grow fat from dead cattle. The furrows, idle for village games, were covered with silt. The paths winding through the luxurious greenery are also not visible, because no one tramples them. Mortals are deprived even of earthly amusements, not a single night is marked by either songs or games. Therefore, the ruler of the waters, the moon, pale with anger, soaked the whole air with dampness, so that there would be no shortage of colds. From this turmoil, the very seasons change. Frost whitened with hoarfrost falls on the heads of blooming scarlet roses, and the chin and icy crown of the old winter, as if in mockery, are decorated with a fragrant wreath of summer blooms. Spring, summer, fruitful autumn, harsh winter seem to have exchanged their usual attire. And the astonished world, although it gives birth to each of them, will not even know now which one is which. And all this string of evils is generated by our strife, we are their parents, their ancestors.

Oberon. All this comes from you and it is up to you to fix everything. Why would Titania argue with her Oberon? And what do I ask of you? Only a tiny, changed boy for me to take as my page.

Titania. You'll have to come to terms with this. If you offered me all your magical land I wouldn't have given it to you even then. His mother was my priestess. As often happened, blown by the fragrant air of India, she served as my companion, sat with me on the yellow sand of Neptune and followed with her eyes the merchants floating on the waves and laughed, seeing how the sails seemed to swell from the voluptuous touch of the air and became completely pot-bellied. And she, imitating them - she at that time had long been pregnant with my young page - crawled along the ground, swaying beautifully and quietly to get me various trinkets, and returned, as it were, from a distant voyage with rich goods. But she, having given birth to this child, being mortal, died. Out of love for her, I will raise her son and I will not part with him out of love with her.

Oberon. How long do you intend to stay in this forest?

Titania. Perhaps before the end of Theseus' marriage festivities. Do you want to dance peacefully with us in the moonlight, to have fun with our amusements - or with us. If you don't want to, avoid me, and I will avoid the places you visit.

Oberon. Give me the boy and I will follow you.

Titania. Not for all your magical kingdom. Let's get out of here, fairies. If I stay longer, we will completely quarrel (He leaves with his retinue).

Oberon. Okay, go ahead. But you will not get out of this forest until I torture you well for this insult. To me, dear Pok! Do you remember how I once, sitting on a cape, listened to the singing of a siren borne on the back of a dolphin? She sang so harmoniously, so sweetly, that even the raging sea subsided at the sound of her voice. And more than one little star flew headlong out of its sphere just to listen to this singing.

Pok. I remember.

Oberon. At that very time I saw—but you could not see—how Cupid flew fully armed between the new moon and the earth. He aimed at the beautiful vestal woman who reigned in the west, and shot his arrow with such force that it seemed to be able to pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I saw that the fiery arrow of young Cupid was extinguished in the chaste rays of the wet month, and the royal priestess, not at all injured, floated by in virginal meditation. I noticed, however, where Cupid's arrow fell. She hit a small western flower, formerly milky white, but now turned purple from a love wound. The girls call him "Inactive Love". Get me this flower, I once showed you its grass. Thanks to its juice, if it is anointed with eyelids closed with sleep, a man or woman falls madly in love with the first living creature that catches his eye. Find me this flower and return with it hither before the leviathan can swim one mile.

Pok. I am able to encircle the entire globe in some forty minutes (Exits).

Oberon. If I get the juice of this herb, I will seize the moment when Titania falls asleep and smear it on her eyelids. The first thing that catches her eye after waking up - be it a lion, a bear, a wolf or an ox, a curious monkey or a fussy monkey - she will begin to pursue with her passionate love, and I, before I remove this spell from her eyes - what can I do other grass, I will force her to yield her page to me. But who's coming here? I am invisible. I'll eavesdrop on their conversation.

Demetrius enters, followed by Helena.

Demetrius. I don't love you, so stop following me. Where are Lysander and the beautiful Hermia? Because... she's killing me, I'll kill him. You said they took refuge in this forest? And I'm in it too. So I ended up in this forest and I'm angry that I can't find my Hermia. Leave me, go away, stop following me

Elena. Oh, hard-hearted magnet, you yourself draw me to you! And you do not attract iron, because my heart is as true as steel. Lose your power of attraction, and I will lose the opportunity to follow you.

Demetrius. Do I seduce you, say that you are beautiful? On the contrary, I am telling the absolute truth that I do not love you, I cannot love you.

Elena. That is why I love you even more. I am your dog. You see, Demetrius, the more you beat me, the more tenderly I will flirt with you. Treat me like your own dog, push me away with your feet, beat me, neglect me, destroy me, but only let me, unworthy, follow you. What worse place in your love can I ask of you? Your treatment of me as with a dog will be the greatest happiness for me.

Demetrius. Don't test my hatred too much. I get sick when I see you.

Elena. And I'm sick when I don't see you.

Demetrius. You terribly harm your good reputation by going out of town, giving yourself into the hands of a person who does not love you at all and trusting the night, which is favorable for love affairs, dirty suggestions, suggestive solitude and desert terrain.

Elena. Your virtues will serve me as the guardian of this treasure. It's not night for me when I can see your face, so I can't believe that it's night now. Moreover, this forest is not at all deserted, because my whole world is located in it. Who dares to say that I am alone when the whole world is looking at me here?

Demetrius. I will run away from you, hide in the bushes and leave you to be prey to wild beasts.

Elena. Even the most ferocious of beasts does not have a heart as ruthless as yours. Run away if you want, then only the legend will be perverted: Apollo runs, and Daphne drives him away; a dove chases a hawk, a humble doe tries to catch a tiger. Effort is completely superfluous when courage takes flight and cowardice runs after it.

Demetrius. I do not want to listen to your reasoning anymore, let me go. Or, if you still persistently pursue me, know in advance that I am right here in the forest and will inflict a cruel insult on you.

Elena. Alas, in temples, and in the city, and in the fields - you insult me everywhere. Be ashamed, Demetrius, your insults dishonor my sex. We are not men and cannot, like them, seek love with weapons in our hands. We need to be looked after, we are not made to be looked after. I'm going after you, at all costs, I, if I have to see death from a passionately loved hand, hell itself will become paradise for me (Leaves with him.)

Oberon. Take comfort, nymph. Before he leaves this forest, you will run from him, and he will begin to pursue you with his love.

Pok is back.

Well, wanderer, did you get a flower?

Pok. Here he is.

Oberon. Let's. I know a corner of the shore, overgrown with wild cumin, initial letter and oscillating violet. It is almost, like a tent, overshadowed by fragrant honeysuckle, fragrant roses and beautiful wild roses. There, lulled by games and dance songs, Titania usually sleeps part of the night. There the snake sheds its motley skin, and this garment is spacious enough for an elf. I will sprinkle the juice of this flower into her eyes and she will overflow with the most ridiculous fantasies. Take a particle of a flower, find in the forest a young man who neglects the love of a beautiful Athenian girl, and anoint his eyes with juice, but only if the first thing he should see is she. Look, try to arrange so that he falls in love with her even more than she with him, and return to me before the first cocks.

Pok. Be calm, your servant will do everything right.

Another part of the forest.

Titania enters with her retinue.

Titania. Well, now dance to the magic song, then retire for a third of a minute. Let some kill worms in roses; others fight bats to get the skin from their membranous wings, and from this material to sew shirts for my little elves; the third let them drive away the restless owl, screaming all night, looking at our beautiful elves. Put me to sleep with singing, and then go to your duties. Let me rest.

1st fairy (sings).

Evil motley echidnas,

With forked tongues;

Reptiles harmful, creeping,

Peaceful sleep of our queen.

With our lullaby song

Sing along with us:

"Hush, Little Baby, Do not Say a Word!"

So that neither evil nor cunning spell

They did not touch the queen,

And until the morning dream-wizard

She was undead and caressed.

Spiders - and thin-legged,

What do you depict?

And shaggy-poisonous

Worms that crawl

On the ground with an inaudible step,

The dream of the beautiful Titania,

1st fairy. Well, get out of here now! Here everything is as it should be. One of us, however, let him stay and guard on the sidelines (The Fairy leaves. Titania is sleeping. Oberon appears).

Oberon (squeezing the juice of a flower on Titania's eyelids). Fall passionately in love with what you see immediately after waking up. Love then and languish. Be it a beaver, or a cat, or a bear, or a leopard, or a bristly boar, when you wake up, he will present himself to you as your beloved.

Lysander. My beloved, you are tired of this wandering through the forest. I confess I lost my way. If you wish, Hermia, we will rest. Let's wait here for a joyful dawn.

Hermia. Be as you please, Lysander. Find yourself a bed, and I will bow my head to this hillock.

Lysander. The same bump will serve as a pillow for both of us. One heart, one bed, two breasts and one fidelity.

Hermia. No, good Lysander, I beg you, lie down, my dear, bye, far away, do not lie so close.

Lysander. Oh, my beloved, understand this in the most innocent sense. Love must understand the words of love and treat them trustingly: I wanted to say that my heart is so closely connected with yours that they can be mistaken for one; that both our breasts are so bound by an oath that, although there are two of them, loyalty is still one. Therefore, do not refuse me a bed near you. Believe, Hermia, this bed will not be defiled by lies.

Hermia. You, Lysander, play with words very well.

Lysander. I would have heaped terrible curses on my temper and my pride, if Hermia had taken it into her head to say that Lysander was lying.

Hermia. But, my dear, out of love and courtesy, lie still far away. Such a temporary disjunction, required by modesty, may be very suitable for the virtuous youth and for the maiden. Lie down there, my good friend, and good night. May your love not change until the end of your dear life!

Lysander. "Amen, amen!" I answer this beautiful prayer. When my loyalty is gone, let life be gone too... I'll lie down here. May sleep help you find complete peace!

Hermia. Half of this desire is to close the eyelids of the one who expressed it (Both fall asleep).

Pok enters.

Pok. I went around the whole forest and did not find the Athenian, in whose eyes I should experience the love power of this flower. What darkness, what silence! Who is this? He wears the clothes of an Athenian. It is, as my master said, that he neglects the Athenian girl. So she sleeps like a dead woman on the damp and dirty ground. She did not even dare to lie down next to this insensitive, heartless man. Wait, you ignoramus, I'll squeeze out all these charms on your eyes. Oh love, when he wakes up, don't let sleep close his eyelids, wake up when I'm gone. And I have to hurry to Oberon (leaves).

Demetrius gets up, followed by Helena.

Elena. Stop, dear Demetrius! Better kill me.

Demetrius. Leave me alone! Don't come to me like that.

Elena. And you will leave me in such darkness? Oh don't do it!

Demetrius. Stay here at your own risk. I want to go alone and leave (runs away).

Elena. I'm completely exhausted from this crazy chase. The more I beg, the less I see sympathy from him. Wherever you rest, Hermia, you are happy. She has wonderful, charming eyes. Why are they so light? Not from their own moisture of tears? If it were for this, mine would shine even brighter, since they were incomparably more often irrigated with this moisture. No, no, I must be as nasty as a bear; not without reason, the animals that came across me rushed to the side out of fear. Therefore, it is not surprising that Demetrius also runs away from me when I am so terrible. How deceitful and deceitful is my mirror when it assures me that I can compete with Hermia in beauty. Who is this? Lysander on the ground! Is he dead or just sleeping? I don't see any blood or wounds. Lysander, are you alive? Wake up!

LYSANDER (waking up). For you, I will even go into the fire, Elena, you are just like transparent. Nature shows its power, giving me the opportunity to see your heart through your chest. Where is Demetrius? And how worthy is the one who bears this abominable name to die by my sword!

Elena. Without saying it, Lysander, don't say it! What do you care if they love your Hermia? What do you want from this? After all, Hermia still loves you. Be pleased with this.

Lysander. Satisfied with Hermia? No, the miserable moments spent with her are boring to me. I don't love Hermia now, but Helen. Who wouldn't trade a crow for a dove? The will of a person is controlled by his mind, and the mind tells me that you are incomparably more worthy of love. Everything that grows for the time being has not matured. So I was still too young, so I had not yet matured to the mind. But now I have reached the full development of man, reason has become the guide of my will and leads me to your eyes, in which I see wonderful stories of love, read in the most luxurious book of love!

Elena. Why was I born? Why did she live up to such an evil mockery? What have I done to deserve your contempt? Isn't it too much that I never could and still can't get a kind look from Demetri? And you still make fun of my misfortune. With such contemptuous courtship you offend me, offend me cruelly. Goodbye. I confess I thought you were much nobler. Is it really because a woman is rejected by one, she should be insulted by another (Leaves).

Lysander. She didn't see Hermia. Sleep, Hernia, sleep here, and never come near Lysander again. As satiety with sweets gives rise to a terrible aversion to them in the stomach, or as heresies become hateful in the eyes of a person who has renounced them, especially when they deceived him, so you, the culprit of my satiety, my heresy, be hated by everyone, but more so for me, than for anyone else. May all my strength be directed to love and devotion to Elena; I will be her slave (leaves).

HERMIA (waking up). Help, help me, Lysander! Drive away the snake crawling up to my chest. Oh, have pity! Ah, what a terrible dream! Look, Lysander, I'm trembling all over with fear. It seems to me that the snake is sucking out my heart, and you, looking at its cruel gluttony, sit quietly and only laugh. Lysander! How is he not? Lysander, my lord! Does not hear, gone, not a word, not a sound! Oh, where are you? Respond if you hear! I beg you love, respond! I nearly fainted from fear. No! I see now that you are not around. Either I'll find you right now, or I'll die (leaves).

ACT THREE.

Titania is sleeping. Enter: Pigwa, Drill, Base, Dudka, Snout and Otter.

The basis. Are we all in the face?

Pigwa. Everything, everything! And this is a nice place for our rehearsal. This green lawn will be our stage, the hawthorn bushes our dressing room, we will depict everything exactly as we will depict it later before the duke.

The basis. Peter Pigwa!

Pigwa. What do you want, restless weaver?

The basis. There is something in our comedy "Pyramus and Thisbe" that others will not like. Firstly, Pyramus is forced to draw his sword in order to kill himself, the ladies cannot stand such spectacles. What do you say to that?

Snout. This, I swear by the Blessed Virgin, is really fear, how terrible.

Otter. I think suicide something, when it's over, we'll have to release.

The basis. No way! I figured out how to fix it. Finish the prologue, and let this prologue hint that we will not cause any harm with our swords, that Pyramus is not really killed; and for even greater comfort, tell them that I, who plays Pyramus, is not Pyramus at all, but the weaver Osnova. This will save the audience from any fear.

Pigwa. Okay, let's write a prologue. But how do we write it: in six or eight-foot verses?

The basis. No, it is better to add two feet, let them be eight, and he is eight-foot.

Snout. Aren't the ladies afraid of the lion?

Otter. I'm afraid of that too. However, we'll see.

The basis. We, gentlemen, need to discuss all this thoroughly. God forbid to bring the lion into the company of ladies! This is a terrible thing, because there is not a single bird of prey more terrible than a lion, especially a living one. Therefore, we must take this consideration into account.

Snout. So let the other prologue say that he is not a real lion.

The basis. No, it is necessary that the audience know his name so that half of his face peeks out from behind the lion's neck. And if you really need to say something in order to correct this shortcoming, then this is precisely this: “Madame, or beautiful madam, I would wish, or demand, or ask you not to be frightened, not to tremble, for I I am responsible for yours. If you think that I have come here as a real lion, woe to me, great woe! No, I am the same creature, the same person as everyone else!" Then let him call himself by name and say directly that I am the carpenter Burav.

Pigwa. Great, that's what we'll do. But there are two more difficult things. First: how to bring moonlight into the room? - you know that Pyramus and Phpsby meet in the light of the moon.

Burav. And the night during the presentation of our comedy will be lunar.

The basis. Submit a calendar here, a calendar, and find out whether it will be a moonlit night or not!

Pigwa. Lunar.

The basis. If so, leave only the window open in the large room where our performance will take place, and the moon will be allowed to shine through the window.

Pigwa. Perhaps so. Otherwise, let someone come in with a bundle of thorns and a lantern, let him say that he came to represent the role or to represent the moonlight. But then there is another difficulty. We need a wall in the big room, because, as legend has it, Pyramus and Thisbe talked through a crack in the wall.

Burav. Well, you can't drag a wall into a room, what do you say to that, Base?

The basis. Well, someone can draw a wall. Just smear him a little to mark the wall with lime, clay, or plaster, and have him hold his fingers like this. Through this gap Pyramus and Thisby will whisper among themselves.

Pigwa. If it's settled, then everything is settled. Well, all mother born, let's sit down and start rehearsing. Pyramus, you start. When you have spoken your part, go into these bushes. Let everyone do the same if his role requires it.

Pok enters and stops at the back of the stage.

Pok. What kind of ignoramuses are these, bawling so close to the bed of the beautiful queen? That's the thing, the show is getting ready! I will be a spectator and, if necessary, even an actor.

Pigwa. Speak, Pyramus! Thisby, come!

Pyramus. The breath of suffocating flowers, you are weak...

Pigwa. Not suffocating, but fragrant.

Pyramus. The breath of fragrant flowers is unpleasant,

When it is compared with the breath of the wonderful Thisbee.

Take a little time

And I will return to you from there at the appointed hour! (Leaves).

Pok. Of all the Pyramids in the world, has anyone seen such a thing? (Walks after him.)

Thisby. Now it's my turn?

Pigwa. Of course yours. You must understand that he is leaving in order to find out what kind of voice he heard there, and will immediately return back.

Thisby. Shining Pyramus, with its whiteness

Argue with a lily and a blushing rose!

A brave young man, the sweetest of people

And faithful, like the surest mine that I have not known,

What does it mean in the bottom or get tired, or stumble,

I will meet with you at the grave of Nina.

Pigwa. At Nina's grave. Complete, my dear! It's too early for you to say it; you answer Pyramus with these words. You say your whole role in a row - and replicas, and everything else. Come in, Pyramus. Your line has already been said; She's in the words: - "fatigue does not know."

(Enter Pok and Base, with a donkey's head on their shoulders.)

Thisby. Oh, faithful as well as the most faithful of horses,

Who never gets tired.

Pyramus. Only for you Pyramus wants to be like that.

Pigwa. Oh, it's terrible! monstrous! The impure forces are joking and here they are joking with us. Pray gentlemen! Run, gentlemen! Help!

Everyone runs away in fear.

Pok. I'm behind you. I will chase you through swamps, through thickets, through thickets of thorny bushes. I will alternately take the form of a horse, then a dog, then a boar, then a headless bear, then fire, I will begin to neigh, bark, grunt, roar and burn, like a horse, dog, hog, bear and fire (Leaves).

The basis. Why did they rush out of here with all their might? Is this a joke to scare me?

Rilo returns.

Snout. Oh, Foundation, what a transformation with you! What do I see on your shoulders (leaves)?

The basis. What do you see? You must see a donkey's head on your own, can't you?

Pigwa is back.

Pigwa. Oh, Foundation, help, help you Lord! You are completely spoiled (leaves).

The basis. I understand their cunning: they want to fool me and, if possible, scare me. But whatever they do, I won't move from here. I'll walk around here, I'll sing a song so that everyone can hear that I'm not at all afraid (Sings).

And the blackbird, with its beak pierced through,

And a cockerel with a short feather...

Titania (waking up). What kind of cherub is disturbing my sleep on a bed of flowers?

Sparrow or goldfinch,

Even the colorful cuckoo

To whose impudent cry

A rare husband will not respond

Objection: "You're lying."

Because, in fact, someone will contact such a stupid bird, who will accuse the bird of lies, no matter how much it shouts "cuckoo!"

Titania. Please, handsome, sing something else. Your voice completely captivated my ears, and your image captivated my vision. At the first glance at you, the mighty charm of your charms makes me, against my will, say and even swear that I love you.

The basis. It seems, madam, that you have no good reason for this. However, to tell the truth, reason and love rarely get along with each other at the present time. And it is very regrettable if some obliging neighbor does not take the trouble to reconcile them among themselves. You see, I am also a master of jokes on occasion.

Titania. You are as smart as you are beautiful.

The basis. Well no, not like that! I am neither. If I had enough intelligence to get out of this forest, it would be quite enough for my personal use.

Titania. Oh, don't want to get out of here! Willy-nilly, you will stay here. I am a spirit, and not unimportant: in my domain is eternal summer. And I love you, stay with me! I will give you the elves to serve you. They will look for diamonds for you, in the deep bowels of the earth, they will sing during your sleep on fresh flowers. I will make the mortal shell so thin and light that you too will begin to flutter like an air spirit. Sweet Pea, Gossamer, Moth, Mustard Seed!

Enter Four Elves: Sweet Pea, Gossamer, Moth, and Mustard Seed.

1st elf. I'm here!

2nd elf. And I!

3rd elf. N me!

4th elf. And I!

All. Where would you like us to fly?

Titania. Be kind to this gentleman and kind to him; flutter around him during his walks, feed him apricots, purple grapes, green figs and mulberries, steal their pouches for him, take the wax from their legs from wild bees for candles and light these candles with the fiery eyes of fireflies and illuminate with them the way of my nice when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. Open the painted wings of butterflies and use them to reflect the rays of the moon from its sleepy eyelids. Hail, elves!

1st elf. Hail, mortal!

2nd elf. And mine!

3rd elf. And mine!

4th elf. And mine!

The basis. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, dear elf. What is your name, most respected?

1st elf. Gossamer.

The basis. I am very glad, dear Mr. Pautinka, to get to know you better. If I cut my finger, I dare to run straight to you. And yours, most respected?

2nd elf. Sweet pea.

The basis. I ask you, the kindest Mr. Sweet Pea, to put in a good word for me with Mrs. Skin, your mother, and Mr. Pod, your father. I am very glad to get to know you for a little while. May I also ask you to tell me your name?

3rd elf. Mustard Seed.

The basis. I know your indulgence, my dear Mr. Mustard Seed, I know it very well. That infamous gigantic roast beef has devoured quite a few gentlemen like you. Believe me, acquaintance with you more than once squeezed tears from my eyes. I am very glad, kind Mustard Semyachko, to get to know you even more briefly.

Titania. Serve him as your master. Take him to my gazebo. The moon looks somehow tearfully, and if she cries, then everyone cries small flower mourning for someone's lost chastity. Put chains on my beloved's tongue and lead him in complete silence.

Another part of the forest.

Enter Oberon

Oberon. I'm curious to know if Titania woke up and who was the creature that was the first to catch her eye and with whom she was supposed to fall in love to madness.

Pok enters.

Here is my messenger. Well, prankster, what pranks have you done in this magical forest?

Pok. My queen fell in love with a monster. While not far from here she was sound asleep in a pavilion dedicated to her, several ragamuffins, unwashed artisans, who worked in Athenian shops for their daily bread, gathered and began to rehearse the comedy, which they planned to present on the day of the marriage of the great Theseus. Having spoken his monologue, the most brainless of these blockheads, the most worthless of all this bastard, who represented Pyramus in their play, went into the bushes, and I, taking advantage of this opportunity, turned his head into an ass. Immediately afterwards he had to answer Thisbe, and he again stepped on the stage. Here, like wild geese that see a crawling hunter, or like red-headed jackdaws that suddenly fly up with a cry, split into separate detachments and, like crazy, cut through the air, all the comrades, seeing Pyramus playing the role, rushed from him and, knocking each other down, shouted: - "robbery!" and began to call for help from one of the Athenians. Their head is already weak, and now, having lost it completely from strong fear, they armed even soulless objects against themselves; thorns and wild roses tear their clothes, tear off the sleeve of one, and tear off the hat from the other, constantly depriving the cowards, who did not even think of resisting, from something. So, casting on them an insane fear, I drove them out of here, keeping here only one loafer, on whose shoulders I put the head of an ass. And then it happened that Titania woke up and immediately fell in love with a donkey.

Oberon. Everything turned out better than I expected. Did you moisten the eyelids of the Athenian with love juice, as I ordered you?

Pok. Done this too. I found him sleeping; not far from him lay an Athenian; he will certainly see her when he wakes up.

Enter: Demetrius and Hermia.

Oberon. Let's step aside. Is this the same Athenian?

Pok. The woman is the same, but the man is not the same.

Demetrius. Oh, why do you push away someone who loves you so much? So you can only speak evil with your worst enemy.

Hermia. I only scold you, while perhaps you deserve even worse, because I'm afraid you haven't given me a reason to curse. If, while Lysander was sleeping, you killed him and thus plunged into blood up to your knees, plunge deeper into it, kill me too. The sun itself was not as faithful to the day as it is to me. Would he leave the sleeping Hermia? I would rather believe that it is possible to drill through the entire globe and that the moon, in order to annoy its brother at noon, will slip through this hole to the antipodes. You certainly killed Lysander: only a murderer can look so deadly, so fiercely.

Demetrius. As the dead man looks, so I look, pierced through and through by your merciless cruelty. You, murderer, look as bright and clear as that brilliant Venus in the sky.

Hermia. That won't help my Lysander. Where is he? O good Demetrius, return him to me!

Demetrius. I would rather give his corpse to my dogs.

Hermia. Get away from me, dog! away, dog! You took me beyond virgin patience. So you killed him? Be forever crossed off the list of people! Oh, tell the truth for once, tell it at least for me. Not daring to look at him while he was awake, you killed his sonnago. Oh what a feat! Serpents and vipers are capable of such a valiant feat. And the viper did it, because with her forked tongue she had never yet stung anyone.

Demetrius. You vent your anger at the mistake. I am not drenched in Lysander's blood, and as far as I know, he is not dead at all.

Hermia. Repeat to me, I beg you, that he is healthy and unharmed.

Demetrius. And what would be the benefit to me if I could even say it?

Hermia. The advantage is that you would never see me again; I hate your presence! Whether Lysander is alive or dead, don't expect anything from me (Exit).

Demetrius. Chasing after her when she is in such a frenzied mood is useless; so I'll rest here for a while. The burden of grief is increased by the debt that the insolvent debtor-sleep did not pay him. Therefore, if I settle down to wait for him here, he may perhaps pay me at least a fraction of this debt (Lies down and falls asleep).

Oberon. What have you done! You made a mistake in the most impermissible way, squeezing love juice on your eyes, in fact loving person. Your mistake will inevitably turn true love into false, and will not make false love true.

Pok. Fate was stronger than me. She is to blame: after all, for one lover there is invariably a million traitors who break one oath after another.

Oberon. Run around the forest faster than the wind and find Helen of Athens. She, poor and pale, is completely sick with love, sighs of love drove the blood from her face. Lure her here by some trick, and in the meantime I will enchant the eyes of the young man for her coming.

Pok. Run Run! Look, I'm flying faster than an arrow shot by a Tatar (Running away).

Oberon. The juice of the crimson flower of Cupid's arrow wounded, penetrate his eyes. Let, when he sees a girl in love with him, she will shine for him as brightly as Venus in the sky. When you wake up and she is near you, ask her for healing.

Pok is back.

Pok. The ruler of our magical country, Elena is close, and with her is the young man who led me into error. He begs her to love him. Let's enjoy their crazy comedy. Oh, how foolish mortals are!

Oberon. Let's step aside. Their conversation will wake up Demetrius.

Pok. And then two of them will take care of her at once. Here's some fun! This kind of confusion is my passion!

Enter: Lysander and Helena.

Lysander. Why do you think that I'm only mocking you for your love? Was mockery or contempt ever expressed in tears? Look: I cry when I swear to you in love. And oaths born in this way already testify in their own way to their sincerity. With such a pledge of sincerity, how can my love for you seem like contempt?

Elena. You show more and more your cunning. When the truth kills the truth, what could be worse than such a hellishly holy fight? Your assurances must refer to Hermia. Do you want to leave her? Try to find out the weight of an oath with the help of an oath, and you will not know anything. If you put your oaths to her in one cup, and your oaths to me in another, they will all be of the same weight, all as light as fairy tales.

Lysander. I was crazy when I swore to her.

Elena. In my opinion, you are leaving her and now insane.

Lysander. Demetri loves her, but you don't.

Demetrius (waking up). Oh Elena! goddess! nymph! perfection! deity! With what, oh, my love, can I compare your wonderful eyes? The very crystals next to them appear cloudy. Oh, how charmingly ripe are those two cherries that make up your mouth! Even pure frozen white, even blown by east winds, the snow on the high Taurus becomes blacker than a raven when you raise your hand. Oh, let me kiss this queen of the purest whiteness, this seal of bliss!

Elena. What an abomination! Oh hell! I see that you conspired to insult me for fun; I know that you both hate me, but that's not enough for you, you still have to mock me. You look like people, but if you were really people, you would not treat a decent girl like that, you would not assure, you would not swear your love to her, you would not exaggerate my virtues when I am quite sure that you hate me. . You competed to challenge Hermia's love: and now you compete to mock Elena. What, in fact, a wonderful feat, what a valiant deed to bring tears to the eyes with ridicule poor girl! Not a single decent person wants to insult a girl like that, will not bring her, poor, out of patience - and all this for the sake of fun alone.

Lysander. You are cruel, Demetrius. Stop being like that. Because you love Hermia. You yourself know this, I know it too, and with all my heart, with all my heart, I cede to you my share in Hermia's love. Give me your love for Helen, whom I love now, whom I will love to death.

Elena. Never did scoffers waste so many unnecessary words!

Demetrius. Keep your Hermia to yourself, Lysander, I don't need her anymore. If I ever loved her, all that love is gone. My heart only temporarily stayed with her, but now it has returned to its true home, to Elena, to stay there forever.

Lysander. It's not true, Elena.

Demetrius. Do not slander a conscience that you yourself do not know, or you will pay dearly for this. Look, your beloved is coming here. She is dear to you, not Elena.

Enter Hermia.

Hermia. The dark night, which robs the eyes of the ability to see, increases the susceptibility of the ear; weakening vision, it in turn strengthens the power of hearing. I did not look for you with my eyes, Lysander. Rumor - great gratitude to him for this - led me here to the sound of your voice. But why did you leave me so ruthlessly?

Lysander. Why stay the one whom love urges to leave?

Hermia. What kind of love could make Lysander leave me?

Lysander. The love of Lysander, which did not allow him to stay, is the love for the beautiful Helen, who absorbs the night stronger than all these fiery points, all these eyes of the sky. Why are you looking for me? Didn't you guess when you saw that I was gone that it was the hatred that I have for you that made me leave you?

Hermia. It can't be! You don't say what you think.

Elena. And she! And she, too, is in a conspiracy with them. I see now that all three of you have conspired to play this feigned comedy in order to mock me. Treacherous Hermia, shameless of all Athenian girls! And you are in a conspiracy, and you agreed to mock me so vilely, along with them! Is it possible that all the dreams that we confided to each other, all the vows of a sister to her sister, all the hours that we spent together, the hours that made us scold fleeting time for tearing us apart, is it really all forgotten - both school friendship and childhood innocence ? Like two skillful goddesses, Hermia, with our needles we created the same flower but in the same pattern, sitting on the same pillow, both singing the same song in the same tone, as if our hands , hearts, voices and thoughts did not belong to two beings, but to one. So we grew, like a double cherry, seemingly divided, but, despite this separation, still constituting one whole. Like two loving each other berries on one stem, we were two bodies, but one heart. We were like two heraldic shields, crowned with one helmet and belonging to one person only. And you, having entered into an alliance with men, want to break our old love in order to mock your poor friend. No, a woman and friendship don't do that! For this, just like me, our entire sex will be indignant at you, although only I am offended.

Hermia. I am surprised by your angry speech. I'm not over you - you're mocking me, it seems.

Elena. Have you not persuaded Lysander in mockery to persecute me, to exalt my eyes, my beauty? Didn't you also force another, who was in love with you, just like a dog, pushing me away with his foot, to call me a goddess, a nymph, divine, incomparable, priceless, heavenly? Why does he say this to someone he hates? Why does Lysander also renounce his love for you, which is still so strong, and force it on me? Because you taught him, and he does it with your consent. Or am I not as beautiful as you, not as charming, not as happy, but, on the contrary, terribly unhappy, because I myself love, but are not mutually loved; it is such suffering that it should not cause ridicule.

Hermia. I don't understand what you mean by that.

Elena. Oh, keep pretending to be distressed and serious, keep making faces at me behind my back and exchanging signs with each other! Continue this lovely task! This buffoonery, played out so successfully, will pass into the tablets of the annals. If you had even a spark of compassion, nobility or knowledge of decency, you would not have made me the subject of such amusement! Farewell! I am partly to blame for this; but death or separation will soon fix everything.

Lysander. Wait, dear Elena, listen to my excuse. Oh, lovely Elena, my love, my life, my soul!

Elena. Wonderful!

Hermia. My dear, stop making fun of her like that.

Demetrius. If she does not beg, I will force them to obey.

Lysander. Your power will affect me as little as her requests. Your threats are as powerless as her pleas are weak. Elena, I love you! I swear on my life that I love you! I swear by what I am ready to lose in order to prove that the one who dares to say that I do not love you is lying.

Demetrius. And I say that I love you more than he can love.

Lysander. If you say so, draw your sword and prove the truth of your words.

Demetrius. This minute; let's go.

Hermia. What does all of this mean?

Lazander. Get out, Ethiopian!

Demetrius. Full, full! You break out just for show, only pretend that you want to follow me. In fact, you won't go because you're a coward.

Lysander. Get off me, cat, burdock! Let go, you bastard, or I'll toss you like a snake.

Hermia. Why did you treat me so harshly? Why, my dear, have you changed so cruelly?

Lysander. Am I your darling? Away, black Tatar, away, away, disgusting drug! away, deadly poison!

Hermia. Are you kidding!

Elena. Jokes just like you.

Lysander. Demetrius, I will keep my word to you.

Demetrius. I would like to have a stronger proof, because I see how even weak bonds can hold you. I don't believe your word.

Lysander. What do you want: for me to hit her, inflict a wound on her, kill her? Although I hate her, I will not do her such harm.

Hermia. What evil can be stronger for me than your hatred?! You hate me? For what? Oh gods, what's the news, my dear? Am I not Hermia? aren't you Lysander? I'm still as good as I used to be. As recently as tonight you still loved me. In the meantime, he quit that same night. Why did you leave me? Oh, don't let that happen, gods! Isn't this all a joke?

Lysander. Not at all, I swear on my life. I say this so that I will never see you again. Therefore, leave all hopes, all questions; nothing can be more certain. I hate you and love Elena, not joking at all.

Hermia. Oh, grief! Insidious snake! A worm that eats flowers! Thief of my love, why did you sneak up at night and steal the heart of my beloved from me, Elena?

Elena. Better and better! You have no modesty, no girlish shyness, no spark of modesty. Is it really so pleasant for you to snatch such reproaches from my humble lips? Be ashamed, be ashamed, pretender, doll on springs!

Hermia. Am I a doll on springs? Why? So that's what it all means! Now understand. She made him pay attention to her height and to mine, and captivated him with her tall stature. You grew up so in his favor because I am so small, that I am completely a dwarf. But luxurious maypole no matter how small I am, yes, no matter how small I am, nevertheless I am not so small that your eyes cannot be reached with my nails.

Elena. Although you, gentlemen, are mocking me, I beg you, do not let her get into a fight. I am not at all angry, not quarrelsome, in timidity I am quite a girl. Don't let her hit me. You may think that I will get along with her, since she is somewhat shorter than me.

Hermia. Lower! Again! Do you hear?

Elena. Dear Hermia, don't be so cruel. I have always loved you, Hermia, I have always kept your secrets, I have never cheated on you. Only this time, out of love for Demetrius, she told him about your flight into this forest. He rushed after you, and out of love I followed him. But he drove me out of here, threatened to beat me up, trample me underfoot, even kill me. And now, if you let me go, I will go back to Athens with my madness and will no longer follow you. Let me go! You see how simple, how stupid I am.

Hermia. Go! Who is holding you back?

Elena. My foolish heart that I leave here.

Hermia. With Lysander?

Elena. With Demetrius.

Lysander. Don't be afraid, Elena, she won't touch you.

Demetrius. Of course, my dear, she won’t touch her, even though you were one with her.

Elena. Probably, when she gets angry, she becomes terribly perky and quarrelsome; She fought all the time at school. Although she is small, she is terribly quick-tempered.

Hermia. Small again! Everything is small, but small! Why do you let her tease me like that? Let me go to her!

Lysander. Get out of here, dwarf! There is a spitting one, created from grass that interferes with children's growth! Away, glass bead, undergrown acorn!

Demetrius. You are already too helpful to a woman who neglects your services. Leave her alone; don’t you dare talk about Elena, don’t you dare defend her, because you will pay dearly if you show even a shadow of love for her!

Lysander. Now that she's not holding me back, follow me if you dare. Let's see who has more rights to Elena, you or me!

Demetrius. For you? No, I'll go next to you (They leave).

Hermia. All this, ma'am, is your business. Stay here, don't go!

Elena. I don't trust you and don't want to stay longer in your nasty company. To fight, your arms are faster than mine, but to run, my legs are longer (Running away).

Hermia. I don’t know what to say from surprise (runs away after Elena).

Oberon. That's what your mistakes led to. This, perhaps, is one of your eternal blunders, and perhaps a conscious disgrace.

Pok. Believe me, king of disembodied spirits, I was wrong. You said that I recognize him by the clothes of the Athenians, and I am not to blame for the mistake. If I have sprinkled the juice of a flower on the eyelids of an Athenian, I am even glad of this, because their quarrel is very amusing.

Oberon. You see, lovers are looking for places to fight. Hurry up. Thicken still the shadow of the night; now cover the starry sky with a black, like Acheron, mist and separate the enraged rivals so that they cannot converge. Taunting Demetrius with the voice of Lysander, then Lysander with the voice of Demetrius, teasing with evil mockery, distract them from each other until the leaden legs and heavy wings of the bat fill their eyelids with sleep, this master of mimicking death. Then squeeze this plant over Lysander's eyes; the juice from it has the power to destroy all visual illusion and restore the eyes to their normal ability to see. When they wake up, all the confusion will seem to them a dream, a ghostly vision, and the lovers will return back to Athens, concluding an alliance between them, inviolable until death. And I, while you are busy with this, will go to the queen, I will ask her for her Indian boy; I will then destroy the spell that binds her love for the monster, and then peace will reign among all.

Pok. We, my magical lord, need to end all this soon, because the fast dragons of the night are already cutting through the clouds and the harbinger of Aurora has already appeared, with the approach of which everything, here and there wandering, shadows run home to the cemetery. All the damned souls buried at the crossroads and in the waters have already settled down on their wormy beds. For fear that the day would not see their shame, they voluntarily banished themselves from the limits of daylight and doomed themselves forever to the impenetrable darkness of night.

Oberon. But we are souls of a different kind: I often played with the favorite of the Morning and, like a forester, I can wander through the groves even at the moment when the eastern, fiery-red gates open and cast their wonderful, blessed rays on Neptune, gilding its salty, green waves . But still, let's hurry, finish everything before dawn (leaves).

Pok. In villages and cities

Everyone is afraid of me.

I will lead like the blind

And here I am and here.

Yes, drive, joker Goblin,

Here they are, then here.

Here's one already on its way!

Enter Lysander.

Lysander. Where are you, perky Demetrius? Respond!

Pok. Here you rascal! My sword is drawn, I am ready! Are you somewhere?

Lysander. I'll be right next to you.

Lok. So hurry to the place more quickly than I (Lysander leaves, as if following the voice).

Demetri enters.

Demetrius. Hey hey, Lysander, answer again! Speak, fugitive, speaking, coward, where have you fled! speak! Hiding somewhere in a bush? So where are you hiding?

Pok. A coward who exalts his courage to the very stars, you must be telling the bushes that you want to fight, but you yourself are not. Come out, rascal, come out, boy! I will rip you off with a rod. To draw a sword against you is simply to disgrace.

Demetrius. Are you here?

Pok. Come after me. This is not the place to test our courage (Exit).

Lysander returns.

Lysander. He turns out to be ahead and everything calls me. I got to the place where he called from, and he was gone. The scoundrel is lighter on my foot. No matter how fast I chased him, he ran from me even faster. And so I somehow got on a terribly pitted road. I'll rest here. Oh, bright day, come soon (Lies down). As soon as your grayish light appears in the sky, I will find Demetrius and take revenge on him (Falls).

Pok and Demetri return.

Pok. Hey hey coward! Why aren't you going?

Demetrius. Wait for me if you have the courage to do so. You keep running away from me, you keep changing places, not daring to stop anywhere and look me straight in the face. Where are you now?

Pok. Come here! I'm here.

Demetrius. Will not go. You seem to be laughing at me, but you will pay me dearly if I can see your face in the moonlight. Now go on your way. Fatigue makes me measure my height on this cold bed. But wait for me at dawn (Lays down and falls asleep).

Elena enters.

Elena. Oh night, oh endlessly boring, long, weary night! cut your hours. Shine a beam of light in the east, so that I can return to Athens by daylight and leave here those to whom I, poor, are so disgusted. Sleep, sometimes closing even the eyelids afflicted with sadness, will steal me away from myself for a while (Lies down and falls asleep).

Pok. As long as there are only three; one more is needed - two people of each sex will make four! And here she comes, excited and sad. Cupid is a rogue when he drives poor women to such madness.

Enter Hermia.

Hermia. I have never been so tired, never been so upset; wet with dew, scratched by the thorns of thorns, I not only cannot walk, but even crawl further. The legs do not obey my will. I'll rest here until dawn. Oh heavens, save Lysander if the opponents really fight! (Lies down and falls asleep.)

Pok. Lie on the ground and sleep soundly. And your eyes, gentle lover, I will heal with this remedy (Squeezes the juice of the plant on Lysander's eyes). When you wake up, you will still admire the eyes of your former lover. Thus, with your awakening, the well-known village saying will come true, that to each his own: when Jack has Jenny, everything will go its own way, and when the man has his mare again, everything will be fine (Pock leaves and the others sleep).

ACTION FOUR.

Enter: escorted by elves, Titania and Base. Behind them is Oberon, invisible in the depths.

Titania. Come here, sit on this flower-strewn bed. I will stroke your lovely cheeks, I will remove your smooth, soft head with roses, I will kiss, my joy, your wonderful, long ears.

The basis. Where is Sweet Pea?

Sweet pea. Here.

The basis. Scratch my head, lovely flower. And where is Mr. Web?

Gossamer. Here.

The basis. Mr. Gossamer, dearest sir, take your weapon, kill me that red-sided bee that sat on the top of the wolf, and bring me, my kindest, her honey bag. However, my dear, one should not get too excited in this matter: see that the bag does not burst. It would be very sad for me if you, most respected sir, got dirty with a fragrant honey bag. Where's the Mustard Seed?

Mustard Semyachko. Here.

The basis. Your paw, Mustard Seed! Yes, please, leave your ceremonies, kind Seed.

Mustard Semyachko. What do you want?

The basis. Yes, nothing special. Help only Mr. Spider Web to scratch my head. However, my friend, it seems to me that I need to go to the barber, because my face, it seems to me, is overgrown with hair, and even though I am a donkey, I am so sensitive that wherever my hair tickles, you scrape me.

Titania. Would you like, my dear, to listen to music?

The basis. For music, my ears are quite developed. Let them give me a key and tongs.

Titania. Tell me, my treasure, would you like to eat?

The basis. Well, a measure of oats, perhaps, would not be superfluous for me; good, dry oats I would chew with pleasure. Yes, I would not refuse, and from a bundle of hay; nothing in the world compares to good fragrant hay.

Titania. My agile elf from the squirrel's nest will get you fresh nuts.

The basis. I would have preferred a handful or two of dry peas. But, I beg you, order your servants not to disturb me in any way, for I feel an instant urge to sleep.

Titania. Go to sleep. And I will wrap my arms around your neck. Elves, leave, leave us alone for a while. So pavilika wraps itself around a fragrant goat leaf, so effeminate ivy decorates the rough joints of an elm with rings. Oh, how I love you! How much I am fascinated by you (falls asleep).

Pok enters.

Oberon (coming forward). Here, dear Robin! See this lovely picture? I'm starting to regret that I've driven her into such madness. I met her some time ago behind this forest. She was collecting fragrant herbs for that disgusting oaf. I lashed out at her, scolding her for taking away his hairy temples with a wreath of fresh fragrant flowers. And the same dew that usually trembles on the buntings, like precious oriental pearls, now trembled in the cups of flowers, like tears mourning their own humiliation. When I got angry and scolded long enough, and she dutifully began to beg for indulgence, I demanded from her a substitute boy, and she immediately gave him to me, ordered her elf to take him to my fairy land and hide him there in the arbor. Now, having obtained the boy, I will heal her eyes from their nasty disease. And you, Pok, take off his magic head from this Athenian fool, so that he, having woken up, like everyone else, could, like them, return to Athens, imagining that all the events of this night were dreamed to him in disturbing dream. But first I must disappoint the queen of the fairies. - Be what you were, and see as you saw before. Such a beneficial effect has the flower of Diana against the flower of Cupid. Wake up, my Titania, my dear queen!

Titania. Oh, my husband, what a dream I saw! I dreamed that I fell in love with a donkey.

Oberon. Here is your love lies here.

Titania. How could this have happened? Oh, how disgusting is his face now!

Oberon. Calm down. Robin, take his head off him. Veli, Titania, play the music. Lull the feelings of these five people stronger than an ordinary dream.

Titania. Let the music play, sleep music.

Pok. When you wake up, look with your own stupid eyes.

Oberon. Yes, let the music play. Come on, hands, my queen. So that the earth on which they sleep swayed! Now we have reconciled and tomorrow at midnight we will solemnly dance in the palace of Duke Theseus and promise him a blessing in view of the most beautiful offspring. Together with Theseus and full of joy, these two pairs of faithful lovers will also marry.

Pok. Stop, my lord. I hear the song of the morning lark.

Oberon. If so, my queen, let us rush after the shadow of the night in gloomy silence and circle the globe faster than the moon.

Titania. Let's fly. During the flight, you will tell how it happened that I found myself sleeping on the ground among these mortals (Exit).

Trumpets are heard behind the scenes. Theseus, Hippolyta and Aegeus appear with their retinue.

Theseus. Since all the rites have been performed and the day has already begun, let someone go and find the forester. Instead of music, we will treat my beloved with barking dogs. Release them from the pack in the western valley. Well, be quick! Find, I say, a forester. And we, the lovely queen, will climb to the top of the hill and listen from there, how the voices of dogs merge with the echo into a harmonious combination.

Hippolyta. I once was with Herculeo and Cadmus when they were poisoning a bear with Spartan dogs in the Cretan forest. I have never seen such wonderful persecution. Not only the forest, but the skies and streams and everything around seemed to turn into one continuous yelp. I have never heard such musical dissonance, such an ear-sweet din.

Theseus. My dogs are also Spartan. They have the same wide snouts and spots, the same ears moistened with morning dew, the same long arched legs and the same breastplates as those of the bulls of Thessaly. Suppose they run not so fast, but their voices are matched like bells. Never in Crete, Sparta, or Thessaly, has a more harmonious yelping been evoked by hoots and horns. Judge for yourself when you hear. But what is it? What are nymphs?

Hey. This, my lord, is, first of all, my daughter sleeping here, and this is Lysander, this is Demetrius, this is Helen, the daughter of old Nadar. I wonder how they could end up here all together.

Theseus. They probably got up so early to perform the May rites and, having learned about our intention, came here to decorate our celebration with themselves. However, Aegeus, tell me, it seems that today Hermia should announce who she chose?

Hey. Yes, today, my lord.

Theseus. Tell the hunters to wake them up with the sound of their horns. (Offstage horns and screams. Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia and Helen wake up and jump up.) Good morning, Friends! It must be Valentine's Day, because even the birds of this forest are starting to pair up.

LYSANDER (Kneels with others before Theseus). Forgive me, my lord!

Theseus. Please, all of you, stand up. I know that you are two rival enemies here. How did the secret miraculous consent suddenly come into being? Hatred disappeared, removing jealousy and allowing enemies to sleep nearby without fear of any hostile action?

Lysander. I will answer you, sir, still completely hazy, not knowing whether I am still half asleep, or have woken up completely. But I swear that I cannot say for sure how I ended up here, and precisely because I would like to tell you the absolute truth. Yes, now I remember. I came here with Hermia. We wanted to flee from Athens to a country where the Athenian law could not pursue us.

Hey. Enough, my lord; this is enough. I ask for legal punishment, yes, legal. They wanted to run away and thus deprive you, Demetrius, of your wife, and me of my consent to her being your wife.

Demetrius. The beautiful Helena told me, my lord, of their intention to flee, to take refuge in this forest, and in a furious frenzy I chased them here. And Elena, out of love for me, followed me. But here, my lord, by some force unknown to me - and that there was such a force there is no doubt - all my love for Hermia melted like snow, turned into, as it were, a memory of some insignificant amusement about which I raved. in childhood. Now all my love, all the ardor of my heart is given to Elena alone - the only object that serves as a joy to my eyes. Before seeing Hermia, I loved her, but, as in an illness, I felt disgusted with such food; now, as a convalescent, my natural taste has returned to me. I love her, I desire her, I long for her, and I will forever be faithful to her!

Theseus. Young lovers, what a happy meeting this is for you! You will tell us everything in detail later. Egey, I will not fulfill your desire, because both of these couples will immediately unite with us in the temple with eternal bonds. And since the morning is already running out, we will postpone the hunt. Let's all go to Athens. the celebration of the marriage of three women and three men will come out very solemnly. Let's go, Inpolita (Leaves with Hippolyta, followed by Aegeus and retinue).

Demetrius. All this is as vague and vague as distant mountains turned into clouds.

Hermia. It seems to me that I see everything with different eyes, everything doubles.

Elena. Same with me. It seems to me that Demetrius is like a diamond I found: he is both mine and not mine.

Demetrius. Are you convinced that we are completely awake? It seems to me that we are still sleeping and continue to dream. Was the duke really here and ordered us to follow him.

Hermia. He was, and my father was with him.

Elena. And Hippolyta.

Lysander. Yes, and he ordered us to follow him to the temple.

Demetrius. And so, if we woke up, we follow him. Dear, we will tell each other everything that we dreamed about (Leave).

Foundation (waking up). When it's my turn, call and I'll answer. After all, I have to speak after the words: "The most beautiful Pyramus ..." Hey you! Peter Pigwa! Dudka is a seller of inflatable furs! Coppersmith Snout! Otter! What! Everyone fled, and they left me here sleeping. Oh what I saw wonderful dream! I had such a dream that it is beyond the power of the human mind to tell what kind of dream it was. Anyone who would take it into his head to explain this dream would be an ass. I dreamed that I was ... and dreamed that I had ... But let him be known as a striped jester who dares to say what exactly I had, as it seemed to me. The human eye has not heard, the human ear has not seen, the human hand is unable to sniff out, to understand his language, his heart to tell what kind of wonderful dream it was. I will persuade Pigwu to make a ballad out of this dream, and it will be called: "The Dream of the Foundation", because there is no foundation in it, and at the very end of our comedy I will sing it in front of the duke. Otherwise, I'd better sing it when Thisby is dying, it will turn out much more pleasant.

Athens. A room in Pigwa's house.

Enter Pigwa, Dudka, Snout, and Otter.

Pigwa. Did you send for the Foundation? Did he return home?

Otter. Nobody knows where he went. He must have been kidnapped, otherwise it cannot be.

Dudka. And if he doesn't come back, farewell our comedy! After all, she won’t go then, she can’t go.

Pigwa. No way. In all Athens, except for him, there is no person capable of playing Pyramus.

Dudka. No, not because, but only on the grounds that in all Athens there is no person more leisurely than he.

Pigwa. And yes, he is the prettiest. And by the pleasant sound of his voice, he is a real lover.

Dudka. Say: the most capable person, because what kind of lover is he? Completely useless!

Burav enters.

Burav. Gentlemen, the duke is returning from the temple; two or three more gentlemen and two or three ladies were married there. If our comedy went on, we would all go out into the world.

Dudka. Oh, my glorious friend, the Foundation! By his stupidity he lost a full twelvepence of his life's income; for it was not sixpence that he had lost: the duke would not have wished to reward the simulating Pyramus with only sixpence a day. Hang me if he didn't deserve them! Sixpence a day for Pyramus or nothing.

Base enters.

The basis. Where are you, my fellows? Where are you, my hearty friends?

Pigwa. Oh what a glorious day! oh, what a happy hour!

The basis. Gentlemen, I can tell you real miracles. Just don't ask me what, because I tell you, I'm not a real Athenian. I will tell you in detail everything that happened, word for word.

Pigwa. So tell me, dear weaver.

The basis. Not a word about myself. All I have to tell you is that the duke dined. Take away all your clothes, tie good ribbons to your beards, new ribbons to your dancing shoes, and go now to the palace. Yes, let everyone confirm their role, since our representation is allowed and it is given preference over all others. In any case, see that the linen on Thisbe is clean, and that the one who begins to portray a lion; did not take it into his head to cut his claws, because they would have to fulfill the office of the lion's claws. And one more thing, my dearest actors, do not eat either onions or garlic, because it is necessary that our breath be pleasant. So I'm sure we'll hear them say, "A nice, very nice comedy!" Not a word more. Let's go! Let's go! (Leave)

ACT FIVE

Athens. A room in Theseus' palace.

Enter: Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostratus, Grandees and Retinue.

Hippolyta.. How strange, my dear Tezoy, all that couples in love have told us!

Theseus. Yes, more strange than true. I never believed in old fairy tales, or in various miracles produced by magic. Lovers, like madmen, have a brain so ebullient, and their creative imagination is so strong that they even see what cold reason can never imagine. Crazy people, lovers and poets are the epitome of the imagination. One sees such an abyss of demons that it cannot fit even in a spacious hell - this is a madman. In love, crazy as much, on the face of a gypsy sees the beauty of Elena. The eyes of the poet, revolving in graceful dreams, look now from heaven to earth, then from earth to heaven. Just as the imagination of poets gives flesh and blood to unknown creatures, their pen gives a certain image to incorporeal dreams and points to the non-existent soaring in the air and certain place, and name. Such are the whims of the imagination, which, if we need to invent some kind of joy, will also invent a messenger who brings joyful news. If it is necessary to come up with some kind of fear that comes out of the series, it is as easy for them as at night to mistake a bush for a bear.

Hippolyta. However, everything they told us about the events of the past night, about the simultaneous change in their affections, is not only a play of the imagination; on the contrary, it is quite real. In any case, all this is strange and causes involuntary surprise.

Enter: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia and Helen.

Theseus. Here are our lovers, cheerful and joyful. Fun, my dear friends, fun and forever young love never disappear from your hearts.

Lysander. May these joys remain even more faithful to your regal walks, your table and your bed.

Theseus. Now let's see what masks and what dances will help us pass the three-hour eternity that separates dinner from going to bed. Where is the usual manager of our amusements. What fun has he prepared for us? Wouldn't it please us with some kind of performance to speed up the painfully slow running clock. Call Philostratus!

Philostratus. I am here, mighty Theseus.

Theseus. Tell me, what amusements have you prepared for tonight, what masks, what music? How will we deceive lazy time, if not some kind of fun?

Philostratus. Here is a list of prepared fun. Decide, my lord, which one you want to see first (Gives a list).

THESEUS (Reading). The Athenian eunuch will sing about the battle with the centaurs to the sounds of a harp! No need. I, in order to exalt the glory of my kinsman Hercules, have already told it to my beloved. "A riot of drunken Bacchantes, furiously tearing apart a Thracian singer." Old. This was presented to me the last time I returned victorious from Thebes. "Thrice three muses mourning the death of learning, recently dead in poverty." This is some kind of caustic and ticklish satire, not at all going to the wedding celebration. "A sadly cheerful and boringly short scene of young Pyramus with his beloved Thisby. Fun of a very tragic nature." Sad and cheerful - yes, it's like hot ice and boiling snow. How to reconcile such a contradiction?

Philostratus. There are no more than ten words in the whole play, so I don't know any shorter one. But, my lord, even these ten words make it too long, so it is boring. In it, not a single word stands in its place, just as there is not a single actor who is in any way suitable for his role. It is tragic, sir, it is true, because in it Pyramus kills himself. When I watched the play in rehearsal, I confess, tears came to my eyes, such merry tears that even the loudest laughter has never caused.

Theseus. Who are the actors?

Philostratus. People here in Athens, earning their livelihood with calloused hands - until now they have never worked with their minds - depressed their memory, which was not accustomed to such work, with this play, and all this for your triumph.

Theseus. We'll take a look at her.

Philostratus. No, my lord, she is not worthy of you. I listened to it all, it is vulgarity, the greatest vulgarity. The ability to amuse you exists only in their intention. They memorized it with terrible labor, with terrible efforts - everything to please you.

Theseus. I want to see her. Nothing offered by innocence and diligence can be unworthy of me. Go call them. And you, my dears, sit down (Philostratus leaves).

Hippolyta. I don't like to watch how miserable mediocrity is exhausted and how the most zealous efforts perish.

Theseus. My dear, you will not see anything like this here.

Hippolyta. Yes, Philostratus said that the actors do not understand anything in this matter.

Theseus. The more generously we will thank for nothing; we will be amused by the indulgence of their faults. For what poor zeal fails to achieve must be rewarded, not for its own merits, but for the intention to please according to the best of its ability. In various places, great scholars began to greet my arrival with speeches prepared in advance. And I, when from the very first words they turned pale, began to tremble, stopped in the middle of a sentence, lowered their voice with fear, accustomed to making speeches, and finally fell silent, even without reaching the greeting - believe me, my dear, I saw the greeting precisely in this silence, understood the modesty of timid zeal as well as the crackling phrases of impudently bold eloquence. The fewer words, the better. Silent attachments and simplicity, stronger than any eloquence, speak to my heart.

Philostratus returns.

Philostratus. If you like, my lord, the prologue is ready.

Theseus. Let them appear.

At the sound of trumpets, and as a prologue, Pigwa enters.

Prologue. If we do not please you, it is due to our strongest desire, that is, we are not that we do not want to please you; on the contrary, it is our strongest desire; that's why we came. To show you my art is the true beginning of our end. Let's go; We have come here not to annoy you, but to do what pleases you, to cheer you up so that you do not regret that you are here; the actors are ready, and from their performance you will probably learn everything that you are destined to learn.

Theseus. This guy doesn't stop at punctuation marks.

Lysander. He cut off his prologue, like a wild colt, not used to any barriers, in the form of periods and commas. This, sir, is excellent proof that it is not enough just to speak, that one must also speak with meaning.

Hippolyta. In fact, he played his prologue like a child on a flute: there is sound, but no sense.

Theseus. His speech was like an untwisted chain - it is not broken, but it is still not good for business. What's next?

Enter: Pirale and Thisby; behind him is the Wall, Moonlight and the Lion.

Prologue. Dear spectators, you may be amazed at such a sight, but be amazed until the truth explains everything to you. If you want to know, this guy is Pyramus, and this despicable person is Thisbee. It's right. But this fool, smeared with clay and lime, should be a wall, that same treacherous wall that separates young lovers, and through a wall through a crack in which lovers are even happy to whisper, and this can hardly surprise anyone. This one, with a lantern, with a dog and a bundle of brushwood, is moonlight, because, if you want to know this, the lovers did not consider it reprehensible to meet in the moonlight at the grave of Nin. But this terrible beast that frightened, or rather frightened, faithful Thisby, when she returned home one night ahead. On the run, she dropped her veil, and the vile lion did not stain him with his bloody mouth, however, soon after that Pyramus, a handsome and stately young man, appears, and finds the veil of his allegedly mortified and faithful Thisby. He bravely pierces his cruelly seething chest with a cruelly deadly blade, and Thisby, who was waiting for him under the shade of a mulberry tree, draws her dagger and dies. Everything else will be told to you in detail by other actors, like the Lion, Moonlight, Wall and two lovers (Exits with Pyramus, with Thisbe, Lion, Moonlight and Wall).

Theseus. I wait in wonder for the lion to speak.

Demetrius. There is nothing, sir, to be surprised that a Lion can speak when such a multitude of donkeys speaks.

Snout. In this thing itself, I, who is called the Snout, must, it seems to me, represent a wall, that is, just such a wall that you think that there is a crack, a chink, or a door through which lovers often whisper secretly. This clay, this lime, and this stone show that I am that very wall, and here on the right and on the left is the very crack through which such fearful lovers as Pyramus and Thisby must whisper.

Theseus. How could you wish hairy clay would speak better.

Demetrius. Never, sire, had I heard the Wall speak so eloquently.

Theseus. Here Pyramus approaches the wall. Quiet!

Enter Pyramus.

Pyramus. O night, with fiercely keen eyes! O night, in blackness that cannot be compared with any blackness! O night, which is everywhere where there is no bottom! Alas, alas, oh night, oh night, I'm afraid that Thisby has forgotten her promise to me, And you, wall, sweet love wall that stands between my land and her father's land, show me your crack so that our eyes can look through it ( Wall holds out his hand and spreads his fingers.) I thank these helpers. May Jupiter keep you for this... But what do I see? I can't see you, Thisby! Oh, ill-fated wall through which bliss cannot be seen. May all your stones be damned for such a deceit!

Theseus. The offended wall, too, perhaps, will answer with a curse.

Pyramus. No, sir, it does not suit her at all. But the words... Thisby has to say, now her way out. And I should look for her with my eyes through the wall. You will see, everything will be exactly as I said. Here she comes.

Thisbee enters.

Thisby. O wall, how often have you heard my wailing that you are separating me from my handsome Pyramus! How many times have my cherry lips kissed your stones, but they were only stones bound with hair and clay.

Thisby. My love! 'Cause I guess you're my love

Pyramus. Believe what you like, but I am still your lover, always faithful to you, like Lemander.

Fisvi. And I am faithful, like Elena, until fate ends my days.

Pyramus. As faithful as I am to you, even Shafal has never been to Prokrus.

Thisby. And I like you, as Prokrus Shafal.

Pyramus. Oh kiss me through the crack of this hateful wall

Thisby. I kiss, but not you, but the crack of the wall.

Pyramus. If you want, we will meet right now at the grave of Nin.

Thisby. Dead or alive, I will definitely go there.

Wall. I, the Wall, have now played my part, and since the role is played, the Wall leaves (Leaves with Pyramus and Thisbe).

Theseus. What is the wall that separated the neighbors from each other, now no longer exists?

Demetrius. How can she not exist, my lord, when she has ears?

Hippolyta. I've never heard such nonsense before.

Theseus. The best of such works, after all, must be seasoned with imagination, and the same imagination makes even the worst of them tolerable.

Hippolyta. Then it will no longer be their merit, but yours.

Theseus. If we have no worse opinion of them than they have of themselves, then they can be mistaken for excellent actors. But now two noble beasts enter: the moon and the lion.

Enter Lion and Moonlight.

A lion. You spectators, whose tender hearts are frightened when a mouse runs across the floor, may now tremble and tremble when the ferocious lion begins to roar in wild fury. So know that it's me, a gentle carpenter named Burav, and although I have a lion's skin, I don't even represent myself as a lioness. If I came here like a lion in all its ferocity, I would probably have to do it badly.

Theseus. A very well-bred animal and very conscientious.

Demetrius. The best I have ever seen.

Lysander. By courage, this lion is a real fox.

Theseus. And a goose for prudence.

Demetrius. Not quite so, my lord: the courage of his prudence does not endure, and the fox often carries off the goose.

Theseus. I am convinced that his prudence cannot bear his courage, because the goose does not carry the fox away. But let's leave it all to his discretion and listen to what the moon has to say.

Moonlight. "This horned lantern represents the month."

Demetrius. Then the horns would be on his forehead,

Theseus. This is a middle-aged month, and therefore its horns are invisible.

Moonlight.

"This horned lantern represents the month,

I myself am now depicting a person,

Such that at this moment in the month is happening.

Theseus. Of all the other mistakes, this is the biggest one. A person should then be put in a lantern. How else would he be a man in the month?

Demetrius. He is afraid of a candle lit in a lantern. See how she's already hot.

Hippolyta. I missed this month and am looking forward to the next one.

Theseus. Judging by the faint light of his prudence, it must be assumed that the damage has already come for him. But we, out of courtesy and fairness, must wait to continue.

Lysander. Go on, month!

Moonlight. This lantern is the month; that's all I have to tell you; I am a man in the month, and this bundle is my bundle; the dog is my dog.

Demetrius. All this should be in the lantern, because it is in the moon. However, be quiet! Here comes Thisby.

Thisbee enters.

Thisby. Here is the grave of old Nina. Where is my beloved?

A lion. Ooo! (Roars; Thisbee runs off.)

Demetrius. The lion did great.

Theseus. And Thisby also ran great.

Hippolyta. The moon was also very bright. The moon, right, shines with great dexterity.

(The Lion tears apart Thisbee's cloak and leaves.)

Theseus. The lion had torn her to pieces.

Demetrius. Here comes Pyramus.

Lysander. And the lion disappears.

Enter Pyramus.

Pyramus. Thank you, dear month, for your Sun rays; I thank you that you shine so brightly, because with your blessed, golden, sparkling rays, I hope to be honored with the contemplation of Thisby, the most faithful to me ... But stop! Oh God! Look, poor knight, what a terrible grief! Oh viewers is that all of you? Is such a disaster possible? Oh, my dear duckling, my treasure, your beautiful cloak is covered in blood! Oh draw near, fierce furies! Come, come, O Parks! Yes, come and cut the yarn! Destroy, crush, cut, kill!

Theseus. Such despair at the death of another being could be almost touching.

Hippolyta. Damn my heart if I don't feel touched!

Pyramus. O nature, why did you create lions when the southern lion robbed my treasure of all its blooming beauty? She surpasses ... no, no, she surpasses all women who have ever lived, loved, captivated and looked around so cheerfully! Come, servants, and destroy me. Oh, sword, strike Pyramus right in the left side, where the heart beats. This is how I die! yes, yes, yes! Now I'm dead. Now my soul has departed! She's already in heaven! The tongue is silent, the gaze is fading! Moon, run! Now sleep my eyes, sleep, sleep, sleep! (Dies. Moonlight exits.)

Demetrius. What eyes are there when he himself is only one point, because there is no one with him.

Lysander. No, he's less than a point because he's dead, therefore nothing. Theseus, with the help of a doctor, he can still recover and turn out to be a donkey.

Hippolyta. Why did the month go by before Thisby returned and found her lover?

Theseus. She will find him by the light of the stars. Her despair will end the play (Enter Thisbee).

Hippolyta. I hope that her despair, mourning such a Pyramus, will not be too long.

Demetrius. A speck of dust on the scales will show who is better: - is he like a man, is she like a woman.

Lysander. She had already seen him with her beautiful eyes.

Demetrius. And here is the tenderness of lamentation.

Fisvi. My love is sleeping. How did he die, my dove? Oh, Pyramus, rise! Oh speak, speak! Why are you so dumb? Died! Died! So the broom will close your wonderful eyes? Those lilac lips, that scarlet nose, those onion-yellow cheeks... it all withered, withered! Wail, lovers, groan! The leek has never been as green as its eyes. Come, three sisters, to me, come and stain your milky-white hands with my blood, when you have already cut his life with your scissors. All right, language! Not a word more! Come, my trusty sword, come, blade, and plunge into my chest! Farewell, friends! This is how Thisby ends. Farewell, farewell, farewell! (Dies).

Theseus. Lion and Moonlight remained to bury the deceased.

Demetrius. And with them is the Wall.

Pyramus. No, upon my word, there is no longer a wall between the domains of both fathers. Would you like to listen to the epilogue now or look at Bergamasco? It will be performed by two of our company.

Theseus. Please, no epilogue is needed. Your play will do without him, because it does not need apologies at all: everyone has died and there is no one to scold her and there is nothing for. Now, if the writer of the play played Pyramus and hanged himself on Thisby's garter, it would be a glorious tragedy. Such is it, however, even now, and besides, it is beautifully played. Perform the same Bergamasco, but you don't need an epilogue

The iron tongue of midnight has already struck twelve times. Hurry, in love with the bed; the magical hour of the spirits has arrived. I'm afraid that we'll oversleep the next morning just as we've been awake all night. No matter how this play went, it perfectly deceived the slowly flowing time. So, in bed, kind friends. We will celebrate for another two weeks, while away the nights at feasts and new amusements (They leave).

Pok enters.

Pok. Now is the hour when a hungry lion roars, a wolf howls for a month, and a plowman who has worked hard for a day sleeps and snores peacefully. Now smoldering firebrands smolder in the hearths, while one owl, with its ominous cry, reminds the patient of the shroud. Now is the time of night when the graves open wide and let their occupants roam the paths of the cemeteries. But we, the elves, as if running from the sun into the darkness behind Hekate, now rejoice. Not a single mouse will disturb our beloved dwelling. I was sent ahead with a broom to sweep the dust out of the door.

Enter Oberon and Titania with their retinues.

Oberon. By flickering light

Burning down fires

Let it light up

The whole magnificent palace.

You elves are like birds

Fluttering through the branches

repeat after me

Playful tune.

Titania. Hand in hand, repeat his every word, and with these harmonic sounds we will consecrate the immunity to evil of this place.

Singing and dancing.

Oberon. Now, elves, while it is not quite dawn yet, scatter to your havens; we will go to the beds of the newlyweds and bless them. Everything that is born from them will always be happy; all three couples will be faithful in their love; the hand of nature does not leave on the body of their children neither ugly moles, nor pimples, nor skin cracks that cause such disgust at the moment of the birth of a child. Splashed with fertile dew, disperse, elves. Visit each of the chambers, bless each of them, so that unchanging peace reigns forever in the whole palace, and the owner of the palace prospers. Hurry, do not delay, and by dawn all gather with me (Exit with Titania and the elves).

Pok. If we, the spirits, did not have time to please you, then imagine that everything can be corrected, that everything you have seen is only a dream. Be, respected spectators, favorable to this trifle, as to sleep; do not scold him, and we will improve. I vouch for you as honest Pok, and if this does not turn out, call me a liar. So, good night to all of you, and if you, friends, make me happy with handshakes, and you will see that I will prove my gratitude by correcting myself (Exit).

A DREAM IN Midsummer Night.

The time of composition of this play, says Gervinus, which was probably written in honor of the marriage of some high couple, is considered to be 1594-96. Theseus' wedding is the outer focus of the play, around which clowns, elves, and artisans gather. Jaunet, for his part, points to Spencer's poem "Tears of the Muses", which is alluded to in the play and which appeared in 1591, which shows that the comedy was written after that year. Then, at one point in Titania's speech, there is a hint of weather abnormalities noticed in 1593-1594, which gives reason to conclude that the comedy appeared around this time.

Page 153. The action of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" takes place in a grove adjacent to Athens, says Francois Hugo, - but the night preceding Midsummer's Day, that is, June 24, it was in England, in the time of Shakespeare, that was predominantly fantastic. . It was on this night, at the hour of the birth of John the Baptist, that people went to the forests to look for the famous fern color, which allegedly had the ability to make a person invisible. Fairies, led by their queen, and demons, led by Satan, entered into real battles for the extraction of this enchanted flower. It is quite understandable that the author chose this magical night and forest for the escape of lovers and for the whimsical and charming inventions of northern mythology, which he so powerfully and so poetically intertwined into human life and passion."

Page 159. In Shakespeare's time, the craft workshops still occupied a fairly prominent place in the English folk drama. They had their patrons, in honor of which the mysteries were played, conveying the life and miracles of each of these patrons. Sometimes the guilds would unite and play some big play on a theme drawn from the Old or New Testament, as the Passion of the Lord is now being played in Ammergau.

Page 162. Pock, or, as he is properly called, Robin Goodfellow, in literal translation is none other than the German "faithful servant Ruprecht." It is remarkable that in German left the word derived from this name: "Rupel", which alone can correspond to English word"clown", expressing the role that Pok plays in Shakespeare. The belief in elves, which was more widespread in Scandinavia than in England, took, in turn, much more vivid forms in Scotland and England than in Germany. In particular, Robin Goodfellow was a favorite of the folk fantasy of the thirteenth century, and with his name, as with the name of "Eilenspiegel" in Germany and "Domovoy" in Russia, all cunning tricks were connected. Tales about them are mentioned already in 1584 in the book "Discoveries of Witshcraft". Nash, in his book "Terrors of the Night", says that all the fun tricks "Robin, elves, fairies of our time" do at night. Tarleton's book "Newes out of Purgatory" also mentions that Robin was remarkable for his hilarious antics. Then, in one folk book, known even before the appearance of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and printed in 1628, legends about Poke are transmitted by different peoples.

Page 162. "The Boy Kidnapped from the Indian King" The people were very fond of talking about the elves, as if they kidnap baptized little children and put them in their place in the cradle of their grimy, ugly, noisy and restless children. To get rid of such an unbearable screamer, one has only to scare him well or take him to the crossroads and leave him there for the night - the elves will certainly take pity on him and return the child who was kidnapped.

Page 163. The name of the king of the elves "Oberon" is a French version of Alberon or Alberich, a dwarf elf who appears early in ancient Germanic poems. Oberon appears in Guyon de Bordeaux's novel, and this work was translated into English in 1579. English language Lord Burnes.

Page 164. All England in 1593 and 1594 suffered from those elemental troubles which Shakespeare relates here, and which pious people attributed to the wrath of God. Streep's Annals, says François Hugo, is an extract from King's sermon written on the subject. The coincidence of the words of the poet and the venerable preacher was evident to all commentators on Shakespeare, and it was on the basis of these words that Malon attributed the time of the creation of the Dream to 1594.

Page 165. With the words of Oberon about the vestal woman who reigned in the West, François Hugo notes, a very interesting story is connected. The Earl of Lecheister at Kenilworth Castle in July 1575 gave festivities in honor of Elizabeth. Before the queen, a mythological play was played on the lake. "Triton disguised as a siren" and "Arion on the back of a dolphin" took part in this interlude and sang a song composed by Leicester himself in honor of a high-ranking visitor. Elizabeth was very grateful for this poetic greeting of the host, redoubled her attention to him and agreed to stay with him for eighteen days. This mercy was so great that everyone saw Leicester as a lover who was about to become a husband. This was even more convinced by the interruption of negotiations about the wedding with the Duke of Alençon. At the same time, rumors began to circulate about the intrigue of the all-powerful favorite with the Countess of Essex. One of the people around dared to speak loudly about this connection. He bore the same surname as Shakespeare's mother and was called Edward Arden. Leicester retaliated for his words by hanging him, accusing him of a Catholic conspiracy. But his words had their effect: the planned marriage of Leicester with Elizabeth did not take place, Essex himself soon died, as they said, from poison, and Lady Essex, having become a widow, turned into Lady Leicester. Oberon Poku's story seems to hint at these events. In general, many allusions to the Kenilworth festivities are seen in the play, which Shakespeare could see personally, as a twelve-year-old boy. Thicke in this case suggests that Shakespeare in the pastoral on the lake played the role of "echo"; Walter Scott, making an anachronism, attributes that Elizabeth greeted the poet with his own poems; François Hugo suggests that the Stradford butcher John Shakespeare, going to the festivities, took his son there ...

Page 173 These words allude to an incident of the Kenilworth festivities. During a performance on the lake, one Gerry Goldingham was supposed to portray Arion on the back of a dolphin; during the performance, he felt that his voice was very hoarse and became extremely unpleasant, then he tore his suit and began to swear that he was not Arion at all, but simply honest Gerry Goldingham. This unexpected trick amused everyone, including the queen.

Page 175 "Pock and Basis with a donkey's head on his shoulders". Albertus Magnus, in his secrets, reports the means of turning a human head into that of an ass: "Si vis quod caput hominis assimiletur capiti asini, sume de semine aselli, et unge haminis in capite, et sic apparebit." Reginald Scott, in his Messages on Magic, in Chapter XIX, gives more detailed recipe to achieve the same result: "Smear," he says, explaining how the ointment is prepared, "with this mixture the heads of those present, and they will appear donkey and horse."

Page 185. "Luxurious Maypole" Here is how Shakespeare's contemporary Stebbs (an ardent Puritan) talks about the May 1st holiday in his Anatomie of Abuses, published in 1585. "On the night of May 1st, all residents of cities and villages go to fields and forests, where they they spend the whole night in various amusements and from where they return with green branches in their hands.But the most important of all that they bring home with them is the maypole, which they bring with great honor, and this is exactly how: they take 20-30 pairs of oxen , of which bouquets of flowers are tied to each end of the horns, and on these oxen they bring home a may tree, entwined with flowers and herbs, tied with ribbons from top to bottom, and sometimes painted with various colors; two hundred - three hundred people, men, women and children follow behind a tree, and, bringing it home and decorating its tops with flags and scarves, they strew the ground around it with flowers, and braid its very trunk with green garlands; then, like true demons, they begin to feast, dance and have fun near that tree.

Page 192. "It must be Valentine's Day, because even the birds are starting to pair up." According to popular belief, it was thought that birds begin to mate from the day of St. Valentine.

Page 202. The person in the month was visible not only in the opinion of the people, but also in the opinion of learned people. He was seen accompanied by a dog and with a bundle of brushwood over his shoulders. Scientists of that time differed only in the question of who this person was. According to some theologians, this man was none other than the good-natured Isaac, carrying brushwood to the altar, on which his father was supposed to sacrifice him. But more orthodox shepherds rejected this opinion and, with divine books in their hands, proved that Abraham and Isaac, as righteous, are in the bosom of the Lord. According to them, the man in the moon is the sinner of whom the book of Numbers speaks, and who, in spite of the commandment to rest on the seventh day, gathered deadwood on the Sabbath. This belief must have been popular in England, as it is mentioned in an old fourteenth-century poem attributed to Chaucer. There is also a dark legend. Creature, visible to people for thousands of years on the night star, there is none other than Cain, who was expelled from the earth by the Lord's curse and became "the eternal Jew of the moon." This opinion was widespread in Italy and is mentioned by Dante.

Page 205. Oberon speaks of birthmarks. According to popular belief, not all of them have the same meaning. Birthmarks visible to the person himself bring him misfortune, and those that are invisible to him, on the contrary, bring happiness.

It's on a summer night. A dream in a summer night. Aegeus, father of Hermia

A picture or drawing of a Midsummer Night's Dream

Other retellings for the reader's diary

"A Midsummer Night's Dream (A Midsummer Night's Dream)"

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