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Let Lion, Moon-fhine, Wall, and lovers twain,
At large difcourfe, while here they do remain.
[Exeunt all but Wall.

The. I wonder if the Lion be to speak.
Dem. No wonder, my lord; one Lion may, when many

affes do.

Wall. In this fame interlude it doth befal,

That I, one Snowt by name, prefent a Wall:
And fuch a wall, as I would have you think,
That had in it a crannied hole or chink;
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
Did whisper often very fecretly.

This lome, this rough-caft, and this ftone doth fhew,
That I am that fame wall; the truth is fo.

And this the cranny is, right and finister,

Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

The. Would you defire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard difcourfe, my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence!

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. O grim-look'd night! O night with hue fo black! O night, which ever art when day is not! O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisby's promife is forgot.

And thou, O wall, O fweet and lovely wall,

That ftands between her father's ground and mine, Thou wall, O wall, O fweet and lovely wall,

Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne, Thanks, courteous wall; Jove fhield thee well for this! But what fee I? no Thisby do I fee.

O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs,

Curft be thy ftones for thus deceiving me!

The. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, should curfe again.

Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he fhould not. Deceiving me, is Thifey's cue; fhe is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You fhall fee it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder the comes,


Enter Thifbe.

Thif. O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.

My cherry lips have often kifs'd thy ftones

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Thy ftones 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 !

Thif. 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 still.

Thif. And I like Helen, 'till the fates me kill.
Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
Thif. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pyr. O, kifs me through the hole of this vile wall.
Thif. I kifs the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me ftraightway?
Thif. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.
Wall. Thus have I Wall my part discharged so:
And being done, thus Wall away doth go.

[Exit. The. Now is the mure all down between the two neighbours.

Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wilful to rear, without warning.

Hip. This is the fillieft ftuff that e'er I heard.

The. The beft in this kind are but shadows, and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. The. If we imagine no worfe of them than they of themselves, they may pafs for excellent men. Here come two noble beafts in, a moon and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moon-fhine.

Lion. You, ladies, you, whofe gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monftrous 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 elfe no lion's dam:
For if I fhould as Lion come in ftrife
Into this place, 'twere pity of my life.


The. A very gentle beaft, and of a good conscience.
Dem. The very best at a beaft, my lord, that e'er I faw.
Lyf. This Lion is a very fox for his valour.
The. True, and a goofe for his discretion.

Dem. Not fo, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his difcretion, and the fox carries the goose.

The. His difcretion, I am fure, cannot carry his valour; for the goofe carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his difcretion, and let us hearken to the moon.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present. Dem. He fhould have worn the horns upon his head. The. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invifible within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon prefent: My felf the man i'th' moon doth feem to be.

The. This is the greatest error of all the reft; the man hould be put into the lanthorn: how is it elfe the man i'th' moon?

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

Hip. I am weary of this moon; would he would change! The. It appears by this small light of difcretion, that he is in the wane; but yet in courtefie, in all reafon, we must ftay the time.

Lyf. Proceed, Moon.

Moon. All that I have to fay, is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thornbufh, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.

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

Thif. This is old Ninny's tomb; where is my love? Lion. Oh. Ho. Ho.- [The Lion roars, Thilby runs off. Dem. Well roar'd, Lion.

The. Well run, Thify.

Hip. Well fhone, Moon.

Truly the Moon fhines with a good grace,

The. Well mouth'd, Lion.

Dem. And then came Pyramus.

Lyf. And fo the Lion vanish'd,


Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy funny beams
I thank thee, Moon, for fhining now fo bright;
For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams,

I trust to taste of trueft Thisby's fight.

But ftay: O fpight!

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, ftain'd with blood!
Approach, you furies fell

O fates! come, come :
Cut thread and thrum,

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.

The. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend
Would go near to make a man look fad.

Hip. Befhrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr. O, wherefore, nature, didst thou Lions frame?
Since Lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear >

Which is no, no-which was the fairest dame,

That liv'd, that lov'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 fled, my foul is in the fky,
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.
Lyf. Lefs than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing,
The. With the help of a furgeon he might yet recover,
and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance the Moon-fbine is gone, before Thisby comes back and finds her lover?

Enter Thiíby.

The. She will find him by ftar-light.

Here she comes; and her paffion ends the play.

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

Dem. A moth will turn the balance, which Pyramus which Thify is the better.

Lyf. She hath fpied him already with those sweet eyes.
Dem. And thus fhe moans, videlicet.
Thif. Afleep, my love?
What dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arife:

Speak, fpeak. Quite dumb?
Dead, dead? a tomb

Muft cover thy fweet eyes.
Thefe lilly lips, this cherry nofe,
Thefe yellow cowflip cheeks
Are gone, are gone:
Lovers, make moan!

His eyes were green as leeks,
O fifters three,

Come, come to me,

With hands as pale as milk;

Lay them in gore,

Since you have fhore

With theers this thread of filk.

Tongue, not a word;

Come, trufty fword;

Come, blade, my breaft imbrue:

And farewel, friends,

Thus Thiby ends;

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

The. Moon-fbine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Den. Ay, and Wall too.

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

The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excufe. 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 Thibe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy and fo it is truly, and very notably discharg'd. But come, your bergomafk; let your epilogue alone. [Here a dance of clowns.

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