Other Titles • A Midsummer Night's Dream (1999) • William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream • Sommernachtstraum, Ein (1999)
Quotes from A Midsummer Night's Dream (1999)
1
Puck: If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended. That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear, and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. Else the Puck a liar call. And so good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.
(11 votes)
2
Puck: Up and down, up and down, / I will lead them up and down. / I am feared in field and town. / Goblin lead them up and down.
(12 votes)
3
Helena: I am your spaniel. And Demetrius, the more you beat me, I will fawn on you. Use me - but as your spaniel. Spurn me, strike me, neglect me, lose me, but give me leave, unworthy as I am, to follow you.
(4 votes)
4
[repeated line] Helena: Oh, spite, oh hell.
(4 votes)
5
Tom Snout: [Puck has turned Bottom into a donkey] Bottom, thou art changed. What do I see on thee? Bottom the Weaver: What do you see? What; do you see an ass' head of your own, do you? Peter Quince: [backing away] Bless me. Thou art translated. [all run off, leaving Bottom alone on the stage] Bottom the Weaver: Why do the run away? I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of me.
(3 votes)
6
Bottom the Weaver: I have had a most rare vision / I have had a dream / Past the wit of man to say what dream it was. / Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. / Methought I was... / There's no man can tell what. / Methought I was... / Methought I had... / Man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what I had.
7
Bottom the Weaver: The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen; Man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was.
8
Theseus: [Reveiewing possible plays to be presented] "Battle with the Centaurs," to be sung by an Athenian eunuch to the harp. We'll none of that.
9
Theseus: Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief? That is hot ice and wonderous strange snow.
10
Bottom the Weaver: Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear... Peter Quince: DEVOURED.
11
Francis Flute: Asleep, my love? What, dead, my dove?
12
Theseus: No epilogue, I pray you, for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse, for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed.
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