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He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breaft. And Thilby tarrying in the mulberry shade,

His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, Let Lion, Moon-shine, Wall, and lovers twain, At large discourse, while here they do remain.

[Exeunt all but Wall. The. I wonder, if the Lion be ta fpeak. Dem. No wonder, my lord; one Lion may, when many

asses do.
WALL. In this same interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall:
And such a wall, as I would have you think,
That had in it a crannied hole or chink;
Through which the lovers, Pyr’mus and Thifby,
Did whisper often very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone doth fhew,
That I am that fame wall; the truth is fo.
And this the cranny is, right and finifter,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

The. Would you desire lime and hair to fpeak better?

Dem. It is the wittiest partition, that ever I heard discourse, my lord.

Tue. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence !

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

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

Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne.
Thanks, courteous wall; Jove shield thee well for this!

But what fee I? no Thifby do I see. wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss; Curst be thy ftones for thus deceiving me!

The. The wall, methinks, being fengible, should curse again.

Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he fhould not. “ Deceiving me," is Thisby's cue ; she is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.

Enter Thilby.
THIS. O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans,

For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
My cherry lips have often kifs'd thy stones;

Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

Pyr. I see a voice; now will I to the chink; To fpy, an' I can hear my Thisby's face. Thisby!

This. 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.

Tuis. And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.
Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
Pyr. O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.
Thr's. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
PYR, Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me.ftraightway?
This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.

Wall. Thus have I Wall my part discharged fo:
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

[Exit. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.

Dem. No remedy, my lord, wheo walls are so wilful, to hear without warning.

Hip. This is is the filliest stuff that e'er I heard.

THE. The best 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 worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a moon and a lion.

Enter Lion and Moonshine.
Lion. You, ladies, you whoíe gentle hearts do fear,

The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,

When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am
No lion fell, nor else no lion's dam :
For if I should as lion come in strife
Into this place, 'twere pity of my life.

The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er 1 law.
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.
THE. True; and a goose for his discretion.

Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

Tke. his discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox, It is well : leave it to his discretion, and let us hearken to the moon.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present.
Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head.

THE. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible with in the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon prefent : Myself the mani'th' moon doth seem to be.

The. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man should be put into the lanthorn: how is it else the man i'th' moon ?

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

Hip. I am weary 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 realon, we must stay the time.

Lys. Proceed, Moon.

Moon. All that I have to say, is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; 1, the man in the moon; this thorabysh, my thorn-bush, and this dog, my dog.

DEM. Why, all these should be in the lanthorn; for they are in the moon. But silence ; here comes Thisby.

Enter Thiby:
This. This is old Ninny's tomb; where is my love ?
Lion. Oh-

(The Lion roars, Thifby runs off. Dem. Well roer'd, Lion. The. Well run, Thilby.

Hip. Well-thone, Moon.
Truly, the Moon shines, with a good grace.

The. Well mouz’d, Lion.
Dem. And then came Pyramus.
Lys. And so the lion vanilh'd.

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 Thilby's light.

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But stay : O spight !
But mark, poor knight,

What dreadful dole is here?

Eyes, do you see!
How can it be!

O dainty duck! O dear!
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 passion, and the death of a dear friend would go near to make a man look fad.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr. O wherefore, nature, didft thou Lions frame ?

Since Lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear :
Which is no, no-which was the faireft 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 Red,

My soul is in the sky;
Tongue, loose thy light,
Moon take thy flight,
Now die, die, die, die, die.

[Dies. Dem. No die bui an ace for him; for he is but one.

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