And  so  it  became  to  Shakspere  :  bright  but  unreal  in
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  when  he  saw  only  the  external ;
hideous  in  Hamlet,  when  he  saw  only  the  real ;  perfectly
beautiful  in  T'empest,  when  he  saw  all  things  together,  all
things  related  to  a  common  purpose,  nothing  common  or
unclean,  because  everything  was  dignified  by  its  functional
relation  to  that  purpose  —  in  short,  when  he  saw  the  world
in  its  ideal.  And,  finally,  I  cannot  better  sum  up  the  re-
lations of  these  three  plays  than  by  calling  your  attention
to  their  epilogues  from  the  point  of  view  of  our  present
status.
At  the  end  of  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  exeunt
Oberon,  Titania,  and  their  train,  and  Puck  concludes  all
with  this  epilogue  :

If  we  shadows  have  offended,
Think  but  this,  and  all  is  mended.
That  you  have  but  slumber'd  here,
While  these  visions  did  appear.
274     SHAKSPERE    AND    HIS    FORERUNNERS

And  this  weak  and  idle  theme,
No  more  yielding  but  a  dream,
Gentles,  do  not  reprehend  :
If  you  pardon,  we  will  mend.
And,  as  I'm  an  honest  Puck,
If  we  have  unearned  luck.
Now  to  scape  the  serpent's  tongue.
We  will  make  amends  ere  long  ;
Else  the  Puck  a  liar  call  :
So,  good  night  unto  you  all.
Give  me  your  hands,

(that  is,  the  applause  of  your  hands)

if  we  be  friends.
And  Robin  shall  restore  amends.
Here  we  have  —  nothing  :  fit  end  of  a  dream.
