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* This man is Pyramus, if you would know:
“My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones ; * This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain.
“Thy stones with lime and liair knit up in thee.' * This inan, with lime and rough-cast, doth present Pyr. 'I see a voice : now will I to the chink,
* Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder ; To spy an I can hear my Thishy's face.
This. “My love! thou art my love, I think.' • To whisper; at the which let no man wonder. Pyr. “Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace ; • This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, * And like Limander am I trusty still.'
Presenteth moon-shine : for, if you will know, This. “And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.
Pyr. 'O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall: * The trusty Thisby, coming first hy night,
This. 'I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.' ! Did scare away, or rather did affright:
Pyr. ' Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straigtit* And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
• Which ljon vile with bloody mouth did stain : This. . Tide life, tide death, I come without delay' "Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and tall,
Wall. “Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so: • And finds his trusty Thisby's niantle slain : And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.' • Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe. • He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast ; The. Now is the mural down between the two neigh* And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,
bours. 'His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wil. 'Let Lion, Moon-shine, Wall, and lovers twain, ful to hear without warning. • At large discourse, while here they do remain. Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
[Excunt Prol. This. Lion, and Moonshine. The. The best in this kind are but shadows: and The. I wonder, if the lion be to speak.
the worst are no worse, if imagination annend them Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not many asses do.
theirs. Wall. ' In this same interlude, it doth befal,
The. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of " That I, one Snout by name, present a wall:
themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here "And such a wall, as I would have you think,
come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion. “That had in it a cranny'd hole, or chink, • Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
Enter Lion and Moonshine. * Did whisper often very secretly,
Lion. 'You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear . This loain, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show • The smallest monstrous mouse
that creeps on floor, "That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
‘May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, "And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
"When lion rough in wildest rage doth ivar. * Through which the fearsal lovers are to whisper.' Then know, that I, one Snug the joiner, am The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak bet A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam:
* For if I should as lion come in strife Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard 'Into this place, 'twere pity of my life.' discourse, my lord,
The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence ! Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I Enter Pyramus.
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. Pyr. 'O grim-look”d night! O night with hue so
The. True; and a goose for his discretion. black !
Dem. Not so, my lord : for his valour cannot carry "O night, which ever art, when day is not !
his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. O night, 0 night, alack, alrck, alack,
The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his val
. 'I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot! “And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
our; for the goosej carries not the fox.
It is well: “That stand'st between her father's ground and
leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. mine;
Moon. 'This lantern doth the horned moon prem “Thou wall, O wall, O sweet, and lovely wall,
sent : "Show me thy chiuk, to blink through with mine
Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. eyne. [Wall holds up his fingers. || within the circumference.
The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible Thanks, courteous wall : Jove sluield thee well for this !
Moon." This lantern doth the horned moon present ; "But what sce I? No Thisby do I see.
Myself the man i' th’ moon do seem to be.' " wicked wall, through which I see no hiliss;
The. This is the greatest error of all the rest ; the "Curst be thy stones for thu, deceiving me!!
man should be put into the lantern : How is it else the The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should
man i' th' moon ?
Dem. He dares not come there for the candle ; for, curse again. Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Decciring
you sce, it is already in snuff.
Hip. I am a weary of this moon: Would, he would me, is Thisby's eue: she is to enter now, and I am to
change! spy ber through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you :-Yonder she conc3.
The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that
he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy; in all reason, we Inter Thisbe.
must stay the time. This. 'O wall, full often last thou heard my moans Lys. Proceed, moon. * For pazting my fair Pyramus and ne:
Nicon. All that I have to say, is, to t:ll you, that the
lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn
This. "Asleep, my love! bush, my thoro-bash ; and this dog, my dog.
'What, dead, my dove? Denna Why, all these should be in the lantern ; for 'O Pyramus, arise, they are in the moon. But, silence; here comes Thisbe.
"Speak, speak. Quite dumb? Enter Thisbe.
Dead, dend ? A tomb This. "This is old Ninny's Tomb: Where is my love? "Must cover thy sweet eyes. Lien. Oh-' [The Lion roars.-Thisbe runs off.
“These lily brows, Dem. Well roared, lion.
• This cherry nose, Tie. Well run, Thisbe.
"These yellow cowslip cheeks Hip. Well shoney moon.-Truly, the moon shines
Are gone, are gone: with a good grace
Lovers, make moan ! The. Well moused, lion.
'His eyes were green as leeks. [The Lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit.
O sisters three, Dem. And so eomes Pyramus.
"Come, come, to me, Lys. And then the moon vanishes.
"With hands as pale as milk; Enter Pyramnus.
‘Lay them in gore, Pyr. 'Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
"Since you have shore 'I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright:
With shears his thread of silk. 'For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams,
"Tongue, not a word :"I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
Come, trusty sword; • But stay ;-0 spite!
"Come, blade, my breast imbrue: But mark ;-Poor knight,
And farewell, friends ;"What dreadful dole is here?
Thus Thisby ends :
Adieu, adieu, adieu.'
[Dics. “How can it be?
The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead. "O dainty duck ! O dear!
Dem. Ay, and Wall too. "Thy mantle gool,
Bot. No, I assure you ; the wall is down that parted "What, stain'd with blood ?
their fathers. Will it plense you to see the epilogue, * Approach, ye furies fell!
or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our "O fates! come, come;
company? *Cut thread and thrum;
The. No epilogue, I pray you ; for your play needs "Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!"
no excuse. Never excuse ; for when the players are The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, I all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if would go near to make a man look sad.
he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hanged himkip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
self in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragao Pyr. 'O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame? | edy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. "Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear :
But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. Which is–no, no-which was the fairest dame,
[Here a dance of Clownde That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik’d, that look’d with Lovers, to bed ; 'tis almost fairy time.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:cheer.
1 fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn, Come, tears, confound;
As much as we this night have overwatch'd. *Out, sword, and wound
This palpable-gross play hath well beguild * The pap of Pyramus:
The heavy gait of night.-Sweet friends, to bed * Ay, that left pap,
A fortnight hold we this solemnity, * Where heart doth hop :
In nightly revels, and new jollity.
[Exeunt. * Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. *Now am I dead,
SCENE II.-Enter Puck. "Now am I fled;
Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
In remembrance of a shroud.
That the graves, all gaping wide, Hip. How chance moonshine is gone, before Thisbe Every one lets forth bis sprite, comes back and finds her lover?
Io the church-way paths to glide :
By the triple Hecat's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream, mueb a Pyramus: I hope, she will be brief.
Now are frolie; not a mouse Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyra
Shall disturb this hallow'd house: 22, which Thisbe, is the better.
I am sent, with broom, before, Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet
To sweep the dust behind the door. pyes
Enter Oberon and Titania, with their train. Demo And thus she moans, videlicet.
0!. Through this house give gliminering light, By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every fairy take his gait: Every elf, and fairy sprite,
And each several chamber bless, Hop as light as bird from brier;
Through this palace with sweet peace : And this ditty, after me,
E'er shall it in safety rest, Sing, and dance it trippingly.
And the owner of it blest. Tita. First, rehearse the song by rote:
Trip away; To each word a warbling note,
Make no stay ; Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Meet me all by break of day, Will we sing, and bless this place.
(Exe. Ober. Tita. and train. SONG, AND DANCE.
Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended) 06. Now, until the break of day, Through this house each fairy stray.
That you have but slumber'd here, To the best bride-bed will we,
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend; So shall all the couples three
If you pardon, we will mend. Ever true in loving be:
And as I'm an honest Puck, And the blots of nature's hand
If we have unearned luck Shall not in their issue stand;
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
We will make amends ere long : Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Else the Puck a liar call. Despised in nativity,
So, good night unto you all. Shall upon their children be
Give me your hands, if we be friends, With this field-dew consecrate,
And Robin shall restore amende. [Evit.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
Duke of Venice.
Leonardo, servant to Bassanio.
servants to Portia.
Jailer, Servants, and other Attendants. SCENE-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the
seat of Portia, on the continent.
SCENE 1.-Venice. A Street. Enter Antonio, Sal
arino, and Salanio.
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
Sclan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
My wind, cooling my broth,
Which, touching but my gentle vessel's sider
Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
Salan. Why then you are in love.
sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy For you, to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: Some that will everinore peep through their eyes, And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper ; And other of such vinegar aspect, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most voblè kins
man, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; We leave you now with better company.
Salar. I would have staid till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
Salar. Good-morrow, my good lords.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? || Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio,
I owe the most, in money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. To unburthen all my plots, and purposes,
[Exe. Salarino and Salanjo. How to get clear of all the debts I owe. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Anto- Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; nio,
And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour, le assurd,
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
Bass. In ny school-days, when I had lost one shaft, You have too much respect upon the world :
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
The self-same way, with more advised watch, Believe me, you are marrellously chang'd.
To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiane ; I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof, A stage, where every man must play a part, Because what follows is pure innocence. And mine a sad one.
I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
Let me play the Fool: That which I owe is lostx but if you please
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, There are a sort of men, whose visages
In making question of my uttermost,
Then do but say to me what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done, of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak. As who should say, I am sir Oracle,
Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark !
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, O, my Antonio, I do know of these,
Of wondrous virtues; sometimes from her eyes That therefore only are reputed wise,
I did receive fair speechless messages :
Her naine is Portia ; nothing undervalued
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Renowned suitors: and her sumy locks For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
I have a mind presages me such thrift,
Ant. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea i Ant. Farewell : l’H grow a talker for this gear.
Nor have I money, nor commodity
Try what my credit can in Venice do ;
[Exeunt Gra. and Loren. | To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portin. Ant. Is that any thing now?
Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Baso. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, Where money is; and I no question make, more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are as To have it of my trust, or for my sake. two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you
SCENE II.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House.
Enter Portia and Nerissa. have them, they are not worth the search.
Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
of this great world. That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: How much I have disabled mine estate,
And, yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit By something showing a more swelling port
with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is Than my faint means would grant continuance: no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but compeFrom such a noble rate; but my chief care
tency lives longer. Is, to come fairly off from the great debts,
Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Ner. They would be better, if well followed.