1

lips have often kiss'd thy stones; es with lime and hair knit up in thee.' ee a voice; now will I to the chink, n I can hear my Thisby's face.

151 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.

y love! thou art my love, I think.' rink what thou wilt, I am thy lover's ce; imander am I trusty still.” nd I like Helen, till the fates me kill.' ot Shafalus to Procrus was so true.' Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.'

kiss me through the hole of this vile 1.' kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.' Vilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet. me rightway? ide life, tide death, I come without de. hus have I, wall, my part discharged so; ; done, thus wall away doth go.'

[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus, and Thisbe. w is the mural down between the two

Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.
The. 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. The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry bis valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the noon.

Moon. This lantern doth the horned moon pre

sent:

Dem. He should have worn the horns on his

bead.

remedy, my lord, when walls are so wil. without warning. s is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

best in this kind are but shadows: and e no worse, if imagination amend them. must be your imagination then, and not

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
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 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 Teason, we must stay the time.

ve imagine no worse of them, than they ves, they may pass for excellent men. two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moonshine.

vu, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear allest monstrous mouse that creeps on or,

* lu anger ; a quibble.

155

mote will turn the balance, which Py. ich Thisbe, is the better. e hath spied him already with those sweet

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.

(Here a dance of Clowns.
The irou 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 beguil'd
The heavy zait* of night ---Sweet friends, to bed.-
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
la nightly revels, and new jollity.

(Exeunt.

SCENE II.

And thus she moans, videlicet. his. ' Asleep, my love? What, dead, my dove ? Pyramus, arise, eak, speak. Quite dumb? Dead, dead? A tomb i cover thy sweet eyes. These lily brows, This cherry nose, e yellow cowslip cheeks, Are gone, are gone: Lovers, make moan! eyes were green as leeks. O sisters three, Come, come, to me,

hands as pale as milk; Lay them in gore, Since you have shore

sliears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word: Come, trusty sword; e, blade, my breast imbrue; And farewell, friends; Thus, Thisby ends: u, adieu, adieu. loonshine and lion are left to bury the

Enter Pack,

[Dies.

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

All with weary task fordonet.
Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in

woe
To 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 ruo

By the triple Hecat's team,
From the presence of the sun,

Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolick; not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent, with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

y,

and wall too. 1, I assure you; the wall is down that ir fathers. Will it please you to see the or to hear a Bergomask dance, between

company? o epilogue, I pray you; for your play xcuse. Never excuse; for when the players d, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if t it had play'd Pyramus, and hanged himself

* Progress.

1 Overcome,