תמונות בעמוד

Enter Thilby.
This. O wall, full often haft 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 fee a voice; now will I to the chink;

To fpy, an I.can hear my Thisby's face.
Thisby !

. 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 fill.

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

. As Shafalus to Pracrus, 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 straightway?
This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.

. Thus have I Wall my part discharged so: And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit.

Tbes. 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 filliest stuff that e'er I heard.

Thef. The best in this kind are but shadows, and the worft 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 themielves, they may pafs for excellent men. come two noble beasts in a moon and a lion. (38)

(38) Here come two noble beasts in a man and a lion. ] I don't think the jeit here is either compleat, or right. It is differently pointed in several of the old copies, which, I lospect, may lead us to the true Teading, viz.

Here come two noble beasts, -in a man and a lion. immediately upon Tbefius saying this, enter Lion and Moonshine. It seems very probable therefore, that our Author wrote

in a moon and a lion. the one having a crescent and a lanthorn before him, and representing the man in the moon the other in a lion's hide.



Enter Lion and Moonshine. Lion. You, Ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear

The smalleft monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,

When lion rough in wildeft 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 e'er I faw.
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.
Thes. True; and a goose for his discretion.

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

Thef. 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 lanthorn doth the horned moon present: Dem. He thould have worn the horns on his head.

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

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon prefent: Myself the man i' th’moon dorh seem to be. •

Thef. This is the greatest error of all the reft ; the man should be put into the lanthorn : how is it else the man i' th' moon ?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle ; for you see, it is already in snuff.

Hip. I am weary of this moons woald he would change.

Thes. It appears by his small light of difcretion, that he is in the wane; but yet in courtesy, in all reason we must stay the time.

LU. Proceed, Moon.

Moon. All that I have to say, is to tell you that the Hanthorn is the moon; I the man in the moon; this thorn-bufh, my thorn-bufk; and this dog, my dog.

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Dem. Why, all these should be in i he lanthorn ; for they are in the moon. But, filence; here comes Thisby.

Enter Th.fby.
This. This is old Ninny's tomb; where is my love ?
Lion. Oh.

The lion roars, Thiiby runs off,
Dem. Well roar'd, Lion.
Thef. Well run, Thisby.

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

Thes. Well mouz’d, Lion.
Dem. And then came Pyramus.
Lys. And so the lion vanith’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 T bisby's sight.
But stay: Q 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, stain'd with blood !

Approach, you furies fell:
O fates ! come, come :
Cut thread and thrum,

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.
Thef. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend
Would go near to make a man look sad.

Hip. Befhew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr. O wherefore, nature, did it thou lions frame?

Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear : Which is -no, no -which was the faireft dame,

Thatliv'd, thatlov'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 I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, now am I Aed, my soul is in the sky; Tongue, lofe thy light: moon, take thy flight; Now die, die, die, die, die,

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 recover, and prove an ass.

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

Enter Thisby.
Thef. She will find him by star-light.
Here she comes; and her pasfion ends the play.

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

Dem. A moth will turn the ballance, which Pyramus, which Thisby is the better.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes,
Dem. And thus the moans, videlicet.-

This. Asleep, my love
What dead, my dove :
O Pyramys, arise :
Speak, speak. Quite dumb ?
Dead, dead ? a tomb
Must cover thy sweet eyes.
These lilly brows, (40)
This cherry nose,
(39) And tbus fhe means

-] Thus all the editions have it, I think without any meaning. It should be, thus the means; i.e. laments over her dead Pyramus. It is said a licle above, And bor passion ends the play.

(40) These lilly lips, this cherry nose.] All Thifty's lamentation, till now, runs in regular thyme and metre. Bur both, by fome accident, are in this single instance interrupted. I suspect, the Poet

These lilly brows,

This cherry nose, Now black brows being a beauty, lilly brows are as ridiculous as a pberry nose, green eyes, or cowflip cheeks,



These yellow cowslip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone :
Lovers, make moan !

eyes were green as leeks.
O fifters three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk ;
Lave them in gore,

have thore
With Theers his thread of filk.
Tongue, not a word :
Come, truffy sword;
Come, blade, my breaft imbrue :
And farewel, friends,
Thus Tbifby ends;
Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Thef. Moon-shine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Dem. Ay, and Wall too.

Bot. No, I assure you, the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a bergomask dance, between two of our company?

Thef. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excufe ; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blam'd. Marry, if he, that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hung himself in Thisby's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is

, truly, and very notably discharg’d. But come, your bergomalk; let your epilogue alone.

(Here a dance of clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear, we shall out-sleep the coming morn, As much as we this night have over-watch’d. This palpable gross play hath well beguil'd The heavy gaite of night. Sweet friends, to bed, A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revel and new jollity,





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