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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 affes do.
may, when many
Wall. In this fame interlude it doth befal,
This lome, this rough-caft, and this ftone doth shew,
The. Would you defire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittieft partition that ever I heard difcourfe, my lord.
The. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence!
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.
That ftands between her father's ground and mine,
Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne, Thanks, courteous wall; Jove fhield thee well for this! But what fee I? no Thifty do I fee.
O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs,
The. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould curfe again.
Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he fhould not. Deceiving me, is Thisby's cue; fhe is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder fhe comes,
Thif. O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans,
Thy ftones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
Thif. My love! thou art my love, I think.
Thif. And I like Helen, 'till the fates me kill.
Pyr. O, kifs me through the hole of this vile wall.
[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 fhadows, 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 worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass 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. A very gentle beaft, and of a good conscience. Dem. The very best at a beast, 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 goofe.
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 prefent. 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 reason, we muft 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 Thify. Enter Thifby.
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, Thisby.
Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy funny beams
But mark, poor Knight,
What dreadful dole is here?
O dainty duck! O deer!
O fates! come, come :
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.
The. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend
Hip. Befhrew my heart, but I pity the man.
That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer.
The pap of Pyramus.
Ay, that left pap, where heart doth hop:
Now am I dead, now am I fled, my foul is in the sky,
Dem. No die, but an ace for him; for he is but one.
Hip. How chance the Moon-fhine is gone, before Thisby comes back and finds her lover?
Hip. Methinks the fhould not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope fhe 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,
Come, come to me,
With fheers this thread of filk.
Come, blade, my breaft imbrue :
The. Moon-fbine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Bot. No, I affure you, the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it pleafe 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 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.