Thes. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence!

Enter Pyramus.
Pyr. O grim-look'd night ! O night with hue fo

black!
O night which ever art, when day is not!
O night, О night, alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisbe's promise is forgot.
And thou, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,

That stands between her father's ground and mine; Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, reyne.

Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine Thanks, courteous wall ; Jove shield thee well for

this! But what fee I? no Thisbe do I fee. wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss ; Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me!

Thes. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.

Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he should not. Deceiving me, is Thisbe's cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.

ş Enter Thisbe. This. O wall, full often hast 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 Thisbe's face.
Thisbe

This. My love! thou art, my love, I think.

Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace. And like Limander am I trusty still.

This. And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.
Pyr. Not Shafalus to Pracrus was so true.
This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you,
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Pyr.

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 ?
Tbil. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay,
Wall. Thus have I Wall my part discharged fo :
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit.

Thes. 4 Now is the Mural down between the two neighbours. · Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to rear without warning.

Hip. This is the fillieft stuff that e'er I heard. - Thef. 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.

Thef. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent nen. Here come two noble beasts in a man 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
No Lion fell, nor else no Lion's dam :
For if I should as Lion come in strife
Into this place, 'twere pity of my life.

Thef. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that c'er I saw.

Lys. This Lion is a very fox for his valour.
Thef. True ; and a goose for his discretion.

Dem. Not fo, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

Thes. 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 hearken to the moon,

Moon, This lanthorndoth the horned moon present, Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head.

Thes. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present: My self the man i'th' moon doth seem to be.

Thes. This is the greatest error of all the rest ; the man should be put into the lanthorn: how is it elsc the man i'th' moon ? "

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle ; for you see, it is already in fnuff. Hip. I am weary of this moon; 'would, he would

change! Thes. It appears by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane, but yet in courtesie, in all reason, we must stay the time. .

Lys. Proceed, Moon

Moon. All that I have to say, is to tell you that the lanthorn 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 lanthorn; for they are in the moon. But, filence ; here comes Thisbe

Enter Thisbe. This. This is old Ninny's tomb ; where is my love ? Lion. Oh. (The Lion roars, Thisbe runs off. Dem. Well roar'd, Lion, M 3

Thef

Thes. Well run, Thisbe.

Hip. Well Thone, Moon.
Truly, the Moon shines with a good grace.

Thes. Well mouz’d, Lion.
Dem. And then came Pyramus.
Lys. And so the Lion vanish’d.

Enter Pyramus,
Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;

I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
For by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams,

I trust to taste of truest Thisbe's sight.
But stay: O spight !
But mark, poor Knight,'

What dreadful dole is here?
Eyes, do you see !
How can it be !

O dainty duck! O deer!
Thy mantle good,
What, staind with blood ! i
- Approach, you furies fell :
O fates! come, come:
Cut thread and thrum ;

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.

Thes. This passion, and the death of a dear friend Would go near to make a man look sad.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr. O wherefore, nature, didft thou Lions frame?

Since Lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear : Which is no, no which was the faireft dame, · That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik’d, that look'd with : cheer, Come tears, confound : out sword, and wound

The pap of Pyramus.
Ay, that left pap, where heart doth hop;

Thus die 1, thus, thus, thus.
Now am I dead, now am I fed, my soul is in the sky;

Tongue,

Tongue, lose thy light : moon, take thy fight;
Now die, die, die, die, die.

Dies,
Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one,
Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is

nothing.

Thes. With the help of a Surgeon he might yet recom ver, and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance the Moonshine is gone, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?

Enter Thisbe. Ther. She will find him by star-light. Here she comes ; and her passion ends the Play. . .

Hip. Methinks, she should not use a long one for such à Pyramus : I hope, she will be brief.

Dem. A moth will turn the ballance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better. i. [eyes.

Lyf. She hath spy'd him already with those sweet
Dem. And thus she (a) moans, videlicet.

Thef. Asleep, my love?
What dead, my dove ?
O Pyramus, arise:
Speak, speak. Quite dumb ?
Dead, dead ? a tomb
Must cover thy sweet eyes.
These lilly brows,
This cherry nose,
These yellow cowslip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone :
Lovers, make moan!
His eyes were green as leeks.
O sisters three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk;
Lave them in gore,
[(a). - moans-a Mr. Theobald. Vulg. means.]
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Since