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

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 lan horn 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 all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.


This. This is old Ninny's tomb.
Lion. [Roaring] Oh-
Dem. Well roared, Lion.

Where is my love?
[Thisbe runs off.

The. Well run, Thisbe.

Hip. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. [The Lion shakes Thisbe's mantle, and exit. The. Well moused, Lion. Lys. And so the lion vanished. Dem. And then came 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 gleams,
I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.

But stay, O spite !

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

O dainty duck! O dear!
Thy mantle good,
What, stain'd with blood!
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

The. 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, didst thou lions frame?

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



That lived, that loved, that liked, 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 fled;

My soul is in the sky:

Tongue, lose 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. The. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass.

[Stabs himself.

[Exit Moonshine. [Dies.

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

The. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes 321 and her passion ends the play.

Re-enter THISBE.

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

Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
Dem. And thus she means, videlicet :-
Asleep, my love?


What, dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arise !

Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
Dead, dead? A tomb

Must cover thy sweet eyes.
These lily lips,

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;
Lay them in gore,
Since you have shore


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With shears his thread of silk.
Tongue, not a word :
Come, trusty sword;

Come, blade, my breast imbrue :


And, farewell, friends;
Thus Thisbe ends :
Adieu, adieu, adieu.


The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead."
Dem. Ay, and Wall too.

Bot. [Springing up] 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? 361

The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But, come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. [A dance.


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 overwatch'd.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels and new jollity.

In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night

That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite.

In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run


[Stabs herself.

Enter PUCK.

Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon ;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary tasks fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe

By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,




Now are frolic: not a mouse

Shall disturb this hallow'd house :

I am sent with broom before,

To sweep the dust behind the door.


Enter OBERON and TITANIA with their train.

Through the house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf and fairy sprite

Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,
Sing, and dance it trippingly.

First, rehearse your song by rote,
To each word a warbling note:
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,


Ever shall in safety rest.
Trip away; make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day.

Will we sing, and bless this place. [Song and dance. Obe. Now, until the break of day,

Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be;
And the blots of Nature's hand
Shall not in their issues stand;
Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every fairy take his gait;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace ;.
And the owner of it blest


Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream.
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If vou pardon, we will mend :



[Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train. 430

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