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Bot. Well; I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will discharge it in either your straw-color beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in- grain beard, or your French-crown-color beard, your perfit yellow.

Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all; and then you will play barefac’d. But, masters, here are your parts, and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by tomorrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogg’d with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not.

Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfit; adieu.

Quin. At the Duke’s oak we meet.

Bot. Enough; hold, or cut bow-strings.

Exeunt.

¶

Enter a Fairy at one door and Robin Goodfellow [Puck] at another.