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16
A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT’S DREAM
act ii.
rest: yet my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
The raging rocks
And shivering shocks
Shall break the locks
- Of prison gates;
- Of prison gates;
And Phibbus’ car
Shall shine from far
And make and mar
- The foolish Fates.
This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles’ vein, a tyrant’s vein; a lover is more condoling.
Quince.
Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flute.
Here, Peter Quince.
Quince.
Flute, you must take Thisby on you.
Flute.
What is Thisby? a wandering knight?
Quince.
It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
