A Midsummer Night's Dream: Bottom's transformation

Come, sit down,
every mother’s child, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus,
you begin. When you have spoken your
speech, enter into that brake, and so everyone
according to his cue.

What hempen homespuns have we swagg’ring here
So near the cradle of the Fairy King?
What, a play toward? I’ll be an auditor—
An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.

Speak, Pyramus.

Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet—

Odorous, odorous!

odors savors sweet.
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear.—
But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,
And by and by I will to thee appear.

A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here.

Must I speak now?

Ay, marry, must you, for you must understand

he goes but to see a noise that he heard and is to
come again.

Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier,

I’ve got it miss!

Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
I’ll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny’s tomb.

“Ninus’ tomb,” man! Why, you must not
speak that yet. That you answer to Pyramus. You
speak all your part at once, cues and all.—Pyramus,
enter. Your cue is past. It is “never tire.”

As true as truest horse, that yet would never
tire.

If I were fair, fair Thisbe, I were only thine.

O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray,
neighbors, fly, neighbors! Help!

I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake,
through brier.
Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire,
And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

Why do they run away? This is a knavery of
them to make me afeard.

O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on
thee?

What do you see? You see an ass-head of your
own, do you?

Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art
translated!

I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of
me.