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for, you see, it is already in snuff.1
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 lantern is the moon; 1, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush ; and this dog, my dog..
Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But, silence; here comes Thisbe.
love!' Lion. • Oh~!
[The Lion roars.— Thisbe runs of: Dem. Well roared, lion. T'he. Well run, Thisbe.
Hip. Well shone, moon.—Truly, the moon shines with a good grace., The. Well moused, lion. .
[The Lion tears Thisbe's mantle, and exit. Dem. And so comes Pyramus. Lys. And then the moon vanishes.
Enter 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 streams, • I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
• But stay ;-0 spite!
• But mark :-Poor knight, • What dreadful dole is here!
(1) In anger; a quibble.
· Eyes, do you see?
• Thy mantle good,
• What, staind with blood ? * Approach, ye furies fell !
* O fates! come, come;
Cut thread and thrum ;! • Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!2 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.
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
• Out, sword, and wound
Ay, that left pap,
• Where heart doth hop: · Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
• Now am I dead,
• Now am I fled;
"" Tongue, lose thy light!
Moon, take thy flight! • Now, die, die, die, die, die.
(Dies.-Exit Moonshine. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for be 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.
Hip. How chance Moonshine is gone, befcre Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? (1) Coarse yarn. (2) Destroy. (3) Countenance.
The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes ; and her passion ends the play.
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.
Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes. Dem. And thus she moans, videlicet.--
This. • 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 brows,
This cherry nose,
• Are gone, are gone:
• Lovers, make moan!
• sisters three,
• Come, come, to me,
• Lay them in gore,
Since you have shore
· Tongue, not a word :
Come, trusty sword;
· And farewell, friends ;
• Thus, Thisby ends : • Adieu, adieu, adieu.'
[Dies. The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Dem. Ay, and Wall too.
Bot. 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 ?
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 play'd 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. (Here a dance of Clowns. 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 beguild The heavy gaiti of night. -Sweet friends, to bed.A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels, and new jollity. (Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Enter Puck. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.2 Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in wo,
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
By the triple Hecate's team,
Following darkness like a dream,
(1) Progress. (2) Overcome..
I am sent, with broom before,
Enter Oberon and Titania, with their Train. Obe. Through this house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire :
Hop as light as bird from brier;
Tita. First rehearse this song by rote:
SONG, AND DANCE.
(1) Portentous. (2) Way.