Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet, This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome;

Presenteth moonshine: for, if you will know,
And in the modesty of fearful duty

By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn

To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. I read as much as from the rattling tongue

This grizly beast, which by name lion hight,
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.

The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, Did scare away, or rather did affright:
In least, speak most, to my capacity.

And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall;

Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain:

Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
Enter PHILOSTRATE.

And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain:

Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, Philost. So please your grace, the prologue is

He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast;
addrest.

And, Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
Thes. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets. His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,

Let lion, moonshine, wall, and lover's twain,
Enter PROLOGUE.

At large discourse, while here they do remain.

[Exeunt PROLOGUE, Tuisbe, Lion, and PROLOGUE.

MoonsaiNE. If we offend, it is with our good will.

Thes. I wonder if the lion be to speak. That you should think, we come not to offend,

Dem. No wonder, my lord : one lion may, when But with good will. To shew our simple skill,

That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then, we come but in despite.

WALL.
We do not come as minding to content you,
Our true intent is. All for your delight,

In this same interlude, it doth befall,
We are not here. That you should here repent you,

That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: The actors are at hand; and, by their show,

And such a wall as I would have you think, You shall know all that you are like to know.

That had in it a crannied hole or chink,

Through which the lovers, Pyramns and Thisby, Thes. This fellow doth not stand upon points.

Did whisper often very secretly. Lys. He hath rid his prologue like a young This lime, this roughcast, and this stone, doth shew colt; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my That I am that same wall; the truth is so: lord: it is not enough to speak, but to speak true. And this the cranny is, right and sinister,

Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper. like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in Thes. Would you desire lime and hair to speak government.

better? Thes. His speech was like a tangled chain; Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is heard discourse, my lord. next?

Thes. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence !

many asses do.

Enter PYRAMUS.

Enter PYRAMUS and THISBY, WALL, MOONSHINE,

and Lion, as in dumb show.

PROLOGUE.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;

But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;

This beauteous lady Thisby is, certain;
This man, with lime and roughcast, doth present

Wall, - that vile wall which did these lovers sunder:
And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are content

To whisper; at the which let no man wonder.

PYRAMUS.
O grim-looked night! O night with hue so black!

O night, which ever art, when day is not ?
O night, 0 night, alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!
And thou, 0 wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,

That stand'st between her father's ground and mine;
Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
Shew me thy chink to blink through with mine eyne.

[Wall holds up his fingers.

Eyes,

MOONSHINE.

But stay; -Ospite !

But mark; — Poor knight, This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;

What dreadful dole is here!
Myself the man i' th' moon do seem to be.

do
you

see?

How can it be! Thes. This is the greatest error of all the rest :

O dainty duck! O dear! the man should be put into the lanthorn, how is it

Thy mantle good, else the man i' the moon ?

What, stained with blood ? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle :

Approach, ye furies fell ! for you see it is already in snuff.

O fates! come, come; Hip. I am weary of this moon: would he would

Cut thread and thrum; change!

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell! Thes. It appears, by his small light of discretion, Thes. This passion, and the death of a dear that he is in the wane: but yet, in courtesy, in all friend, would go near to make a man look sad. reason, we must stay the time.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Lys. Proceed, moon.

PYRAMUS.
MOONSHINE.

0, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame ? All that I have to say is, to tell you that the lanthorn

Since lion vile hath defloured my dear:

Which is no, no — which was the fairest dame, is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thornbush, my thornbush ; and this dog, my dog.

That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with

cheer. Dem. Why all these should be in the lanthorn;

Come, tears, confound; for they are in the moon. But silence; here comes

Out, sword, and wound Thisbe.

The pap of Pyramus :

Ay, that left pap,
Enter THISBE.

Where heart doth hop:
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.

Now am I dead,
THISBE.

Now am I fled;
This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?

My soul is in the sky:

Tongue, lose thy light!
LION.

Moon, take thy flight!

Now die, die, die, die, die ! [Dies. Oh [The Lion roars. - THISBE runs off.

[Exit MoonSHINE. Dem. Well roared, lion.

Dem. No die but an ace for him; for he is but

n Thes. Well run, Thisbe. Hip. Well shone, moon. Truly, the moon

Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he shines with a good grace.

is nothing Thes. Well moused, lion.

Thes. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet [The Lion tears Tuisbe's mantle, and exit. recover, and prove an ass. Dem. And then came Pyramus.

Hip. How chance moonshine is gone before

Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? Lys. And so the lion vanished.

Thes. She will find him by starlight. Here she Enter PYRAMUS.

comes; and her passion ends the play.

Enter THISBE.
PYRAMUS.

Hip. Methinks she would not use a long one,
Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright:

for such a Pyramus : I hope she will be brief. For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams,

Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which PyI trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.

ramus, which Thisbe, is the better.

one.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those A fortnight hold we this solemnity,

In nightly revels, and new jolity. Dem. And thus she moans, videlicit.