Читать книгу The Shakespeare Story-Book - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 20

Queen Titania, meanwhile, was quietly sleeping, and she did not even waken when Quince and Bottom, with their ambitious little troupe of actors, came and began to rehearse their play close by. Bottom, as usual, took the lead, and made himself very officious in directing all the rest.

But if Titania did not see them, someone else did.

Puck, the little imp, or Robin Goodfellow, as he was also called, was always alert for any mischief. Sometimes he played pranks to frighten the village maidens; sometimes he frolicked in the churn, and prevented the butter coming, so that the busy housewife toiled in vain; at other times, as Hobgoblin or Will-o’-the-Wisp, he led astray unwary travellers by night; sometimes he took the guise of a roasted apple in a bowl of hot spiced ale, and bobbed against the lips of some old gossip as she was drinking; or perhaps just when some sedate elderly spinster was sitting down to tell a sad story, Puck would skip away with her three-legged stool, and down she would go on the ground – bang! – while all the other old cronies shook with laughter.

Puck was much diverted with the strange crew of petty artisans from Athens, who had come into the wood to rehearse their play, and he presently played one of his pranks on the conceited Bottom. The latter, having spoken some of his lines, stood aside for a few minutes, while the others went on with their parts, and, unseen by anyone, Puck seized this opportunity to pop an ass’s head on Bottom.

Quite unconscious of the strange change that had taken place in his appearance, Bottom calmly advanced when his turn came again, but at the sight of the ass’s head all his companions shrieked and fled in terror, calling out that they were bewitched. Bottom could not imagine why they behaved in this queer fashion, and thought it was some trick to frighten him.

“I will not stir from this place, do what they can,” he said stolidly. “I will walk up and down here, and I will sing, so that they shall hear I am not afraid.”

So he began to pace up and down, singing in a very harsh, discordant manner, more like an ass’s bray than a man’s voice:

“What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” cried Titania, starting up from slumber.

The charm was beginning to work, and she gazed with rapture on the curious monster.

Bottom sang on:

“I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again,” entreated Titania. “My ear is charmed as much with your music as my eye is enthralled with your appearance. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.”

“Not so, neither,” said Bottom bluntly; “but if I had wit to get out of this wood I have enough to serve my own turn.”

“Do not desire to go out of this wood,” pleaded Titania. “Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wish it or not. I am a spirit of no common kind, and I love thee; therefore go with me. I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee, and they shall fetch thee jewels, and sing while thou liest sleeping on a bank of flowers. Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!”

Four little elves came flying at the summons, and the infatuated Queen of the Fairies gave this new object of her affections into their special charge. They led him away to the bower of the Queen, and there they decked him with flowers, while Titania lavished caresses on the clownish monster.

Bottom was not in the least impressed with the dainty loveliness of the Queen of the Fairies. He accepted all her attentions with stolid indifference, and ordered the little elves about with loutish stupidity. But the magic charm was so strong that Titania was quite bewitched with him.

“Say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat,” she said coaxingly.

“Truly, a peck of provender,” was the gruff reply. “I could munch you your good dry oats. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir. I feel I am getting sleepy.”

“Sleep thou, and I will stay here beside thee,” said the Queen. “Fairies, begone! Oh, how I love thee! how I doat on thee!”

Hermia had gone in search of Lysander, but instead of finding him she came across Demetrius. The latter immediately began, as usual, to declare his affection for her, and Hermia, as before, repulsed him angrily. Lysander was the only person in the world for whom she would ever care, though she could not imagine why he had deserted her so cruelly while she lay asleep.

“This is the Athenian whose eyes I told you to anoint,” said King Oberon to Puck, as they watched from the thicket all that was happening.

“This is the woman, but this is not the man,” said Puck.

“What have you done?” exclaimed the King. “You have made a great mistake. You have placed the love-juice on some true-love’s eyes, and now, because of your error, some true love has turned false, instead of some false love turning true! Go swifter than the wind through the wood, and look you find Helena of Athens. She is pale and ill with sighing for love. See that you bring her here by some device. I will charm the eyes of Demetrius before she appears.”

Puck flew off, eager to repair the mischief he had done, and King Oberon squeezed some of the magic juice on the eyes of Demetrius.

A few minutes later Helena arrived, but Lysander was with her. Now there were fresh troubles and perplexities. Demetrius woke up, and, as the first object on which his eyes fell was Helena, he immediately fell in love with her again, and forgot Hermia.

But Helena could not understand what all this meant. She thought both men were mocking and insulting her. She knew that only the day before Lysander had wanted to marry Hermia, and that Demetrius also wanted to marry Hermia, although he had originally paid court to herself. Why, then, did they both now pretend that it was herself that they wanted? She did not know it was all the fault of that mischievous little flower.

Hermia was as much distressed as Helena. It was perplexing enough when Demetrius suddenly turned round and would have nothing more to say to her; but what cut Hermia to the heart was that her own faithful Lysander should not only forsake her for Helena, but shower insults on her whenever she came near.

A pretty tangle Puck had caused by his mistake!

Demetrius and Lysander became so enraged with jealousy that they challenged each other to fight, but here Puck interfered again to good effect. He contrived so to baffle and mislead them that, instead of meeting, they did nothing but chase each other about in the darkness. At last, quite wearied out, Lysander sank down to rest, while the faithful Hermia took up her place near him. Then Puck applied the love-juice again to Lysander’s eyes, and this time when he woke his glance fell first on Hermia, so at last all went well. His affection was restored to her, and as Demetrius was already in love again with Helena, both sets of lovers could be happy.

In the meanwhile, King Oberon began to pity his beautiful Queen, for he could not bear to see her doating on such a hideous monster. Titania, in the height of her new folly, had willingly yielded up the little changeling, and now that Oberon had got possession of the boy he dissolved the spell without delay.

he chanted. “Now, my Titania, wake, my sweet Queen!”

“My Oberon! What visions I have had!” said the Queen. “I thought I was in love with an ass.”

“There lies your love,” said the King, pointing to where Bottom still lay snoring.

“How came these things to pass? Oh, how I loathe his visage now!” exclaimed Titania, shrinking back in disgust.

Oberon next bade Puck remove the ass’s head from Bottom, so that when he awoke he should think that all that had happened was nothing but a dream, and then, to the sound of sweet music, the King and the Queen of the Fairies took flight, once more good friends.

Early the next morning, Theseus, Duke of Athens, with his promised bride, Hippolyta, went hunting in the wood, and there they came across the two pairs of lovers. Egeus, the father of Hermia, was with the Duke, but there was no need now to enforce the cruel law. Demetrius resigned all claim on Hermia, and declared that the only person he wished to marry was his first love, Helena. To these happy lovers it seemed now that everything that had passed was a dream.

“Are you sure that we are awake?” said Demetrius. “It seems to me that yet we sleep, we dream.”

But their happiness was no dream, and did not melt away with morning light. The wedding of Lysander and Hermia and of Demetrius and Helena took place at the same time as that of Duke Theseus and Hippolyta. Great were the festivities at Athens, and one of the most notable features of the evening’s entertainment was undoubtedly the play acted by Bottom and his valiant companions.

“A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus and his love Thisbe: very tragical mirth,” ran the title in the programme, and very mirthful tragedy most of the spectators found it.