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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 the Moonshine is gone, before Thilby comes back and finds her lover?

Enter Thilby.
Tue. She will find him by star-light.
Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.

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

Dem. A moth will turn the ballance, which Pyramus, which Thilby is the better.

Lys. She hath spied him already with chofe fweet eyes.
Dem. And thụs 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 lilly browsi
This cherry nose,
These yellow cowslip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone :
Lovers, make moan!
His eyes were green as lecks.
O lifters three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk;
Lave them in gore,
Since you have shore
With shears his thread of ấlk.

Tongue, not a word;
Come, trufty sword ,
Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
And farewell, friends,
Thus Thilby ends;
Adieu, adieu, adieu.

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 bergomalk 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 blam'd. Marry, if he, that writ it, had play'd Pyramus, and hung himself in Thisby's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly, and very notably discharg'd. But come, your bergomalk; let your epilogue alone.

[Here a dance of

as. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers to bed; 'tis almost Fairy time, I fear, we shall out-Neep the coming morn, As much as we this night have over-watch’d. This palpable gross play hath well begạild The heavy gait of night-Sweet friends to bed. A fortnight hold we this folemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.

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Now the wasted brands do glow

Whilft the screech-owl, shrieking loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,

In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his spright,

In the church-way paths to glide; And we Fairies, that do run

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 fent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter king and queen of Fairies, with their train. OB. Through this house give glimmering light,

By the dead and drowsy fire,
Every elf, and fairy spright,

Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty after me
Sing and dance it trippingly.

QUEEN. First rehearse this song by rote,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand with fairy' grace,
Will we fing, and bless this place.

OB. Now until the break of day,
Through this house each Fairy ftray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue, there create,
Ever shall be fortunate;

So fhall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be:
And the blots of nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare lip, nor scur,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be,
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every Fairy take his, gait,
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace with sweet peace.
Ever shall it safely reft,
And the owner of it bleft.
Trip away,
Make no ftay;
Meet me all by break of day.

'Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended ;
That you have but Number'd bere,
While these vifions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme
No more yielding but a dream.
Gentles, do not reprehend,
If you pardon, we will mend.
And as I am honeft Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long :
Else the Puck a liar call :
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends;
And Robin shall restore amends.

[Exeunt omnes.


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Tbe Reader, to find the Line referred to, must rec? on the Lines of the Text only, beginning at the Top of the Page, omitting all Lines relating to the Eritry of Characters, &c.

The Notes not in Dr. JOHNSON's Edition are marked with

an Aperison [ * ] thus.


HE TEMPEST has rather more of the novel in it

than THE TAMING OF THE SHREW : but no one has yet pretended to have met with such a novel, nor any thing else, that can be suppofed to have furnished Shakespeare with materiais for writing this play; the fable of which muft therefore pass for entirely his own production, till the contrary can be made appear by any futur: discovery. Dr. Warburton, after observing, that the persons of the drama are all Italians, and the unities all regularly observed in it, a custom likewise of the Italians) concludes his note with the mention of two of their plays, IL NEGROMANTE, di L. Ariosto, and IL NEGROMANTE PALLIATO di Gio. Angelo Petrucci; one or other of which, he feems to think, may have given rise to THE TEMPEST: but he is mistaken in both of them; and the last muft needs be out of the question, being later than Shakespeare's time.

CAPELL, These two firft Plays, The TEMPEST and The MipSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM, are the nubleft efforts of that sublime and amazing imagination peculiar to Shakefpear, which soars above the bounds of nature without ferfaking feafe; or, more properly, carries nature along with him beyond her established limits. Fletcher seems particu. .


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