« AnteriorContinuar »
“ And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall;!
" Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain: “ Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall,
“ And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain : “ Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blades,
“ He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; “ And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,
“ His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, “ Let lion, moon-shine, wall, and lovers twain, “ At large discourse, while here they do remain.”
[Exeunt, Prol. Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine. The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when
many asses do.
Wall.“ In this same interlude, it doth befall, “ That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: “ And such a wall, as I would have you think, “That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, “ Did whisper often very secretly. “ This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth
show “ That I am that same wall; the truth is so: “ And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper." The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak
better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
Enter PYRAMUS. Pyr. “O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so
black! “O night, which ever art, when day is not! “O night, О night, alack, alack, alack,
“ I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot! “ And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, “ That stand'st between her father's ground and
mine; “ Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, “ Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne.
[Wall holds up his fingers. “ Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for
this! “ But what see I? No Thisby do I see. “ O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss ;
“ Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!"
The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving me, is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you :-Yonder she comes.
Enter THISBE. This. “Owall, full often bast thou heard my moans, “For parting my fair Pyramus and me: My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones; “Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee."
Pyr. “ I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
“ To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face. “ Thisby!"
This. “My love! thou art my love, I think."
This. “ And I like Helen, till the fates me kill." Pyr.
« Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.” This. “ As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you." Pyr. “O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall." This. “ I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.” Pyr. “Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straight
way?" This. “ Tide life, tide death, I come without delay." Wall. “ Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so; “ And, being done, thus wall away doth go."
[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.
Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.
Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion.
Enter Lion and Moonshine. Lion. “ You, ladies you, whose gentle hearts do
fear • The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, “May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
“ When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. “ Then know, that I, one Snug the joiner, am “A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam: “ For if I should as lion come in strife “ Into this place, 'twere pity on my life.”
The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.
Dem. Not so, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. Moon. “ This lantern doth the horned moon pre
sent:" Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head.
The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. Moon. “ This lantern doth the horned moon pre
sent: “ Myself the man i'th' moon do seem to be."
The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the VOL. 111.
man should be put into the lantern: How is it else the man i'the moon?
Dem. He dares not come there for the candle: for, you see, it is already in snuff67.
Hip. I am aweary of this moon: Would, he would change!
The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time,
Lys. Proceed, moon.
Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.
Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisbe.
This. “ This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my
love?" Lion. « Oh-."
[The Lion roars. Thisle runs of Dem. Well roar'd, lion. The. Well run, Tbisbe.
Hip. Well shone, moon.—Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. The. Well mous'd, lion.
[The Lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit. Dem. And so comes Pyramus. Lys. And then the moon vanishes.