or, to speak more plainly, the same incident is become stale by repetition. I wish some other method had been found to entrap Beatrice, than that very one which before had been successfully practised on Benedick.

Much Ado About Nothing (as I understand from one of Mr. Vertue's MSS.) formerly passed under the title of Benedick and Beatrix. Heming the player received, on the 20th of May, 1613, the sum of forty pounds, and twenty pounds more as his majesty's gratuity, for exhibiting six plays at Hampton Court, among which was this comedy.

STEEVENS.

1

A

MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S

DREAM.

Theseus, duke of Athens.
Egeus, father to Hermia.
Lysander,

in love with Hermia.

Philostrate, master of the revels to Theseus.

Quince, the carpenter.

Snug, the joiner.

Bottom, the weaver.

Flute, the bellows-mender.
Snout, the tinker.

Starveling, the tailor.

Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus.

Hermia, daughter to Egéus, in love with Lysander. Helena, in love with Demetrius.

Oberon, king of the fairies.

Titania, queen of the fairies.

Puck, or Robin Good-fellow, a fairy.

Peas-blossom,

Cobweb,

Moth,

fairies.

Mustard-seed,

Pyramus,

Thisbe,

Wall,

Moonshine,

Characters in the interlude, pérformed by the Clowns.

Lion,

Other fairies attending their king and queen.

Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta.

Scene, Athens, and a wood not far from it.

MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S

DREAM.

ACT I.

SCENE I-Athens. A room in the palace of Theseus. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and attendants.

Theseus.

Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon: but, oh, methinks, how slow
This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame, or a dowager,

Long withering out a young man's revenue.
Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in
nights;

Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow

New bent in heaven, shall behold the night

Of our solemnities.

The.

Go, Philostrate,

Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals,
The pale companion is not for our pomp.

[Exit Philostrate,
Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,