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And his love Thibe; very tragical mirth.
* Merry and tragical? tedious and brief?
That is, hot Ice, a wondrous strange Shew.
How shall we find the concord of this discord ?

Philoft. A play there is, my lord, some ten words

long;

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Which is as brief, as I have known a play ;
But by ten words, my lord, it is too long;
Which makes it.tedious: for in all the play
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my noble lord, it is :
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
Which, when I saw rehears'd, I must confess,
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
Thes

. What are they, that do play it?
Philoft. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,
Which never labour'd in their minds 'till now;
And now have toild their unbreath'd memories
With this fame play against your nuptials.

Thef. And we will hear it.

Philoft. No, my noble lord, It is not for

you.

I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find sport in their intents,
Extremely stretch'd and conu'd with cruel pain,
To do you service.

Thes. I will hear that play:
" For never any thing can be amiss,
- When simpleness and duty tender it.
Go, bring them in, and take your places, ladies.

[Exit. Phil. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his service perishing. * Merry and Iragical? tedious and brief?

That is hot Ice, and wondrous strange Snow.] The nonsense of the last Line should be corre&ed thus, That is, hot Ice, a wondrous strange shew!

Thes.

Thef. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no fuch

thing Hip. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. Thes. The kinder we, to give them thanks for

nothing
Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake;
And what poor (willing) duty cannot do,
Noble respect takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them fhiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midit of sentences,
Throtile their practis'd accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this filence yet I pick'd a welcome :
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity,
In least speak most, to my capacity.

Enter Philostrate.
Phil. So please your Grace, the prologue is addrest.
Thef. Let himn approach.

[Flor. Trum. S CE N E II.

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,

Enter Quince, for the prologue.
Pro. F we offend, it is with our good will.

That
you

should think, we come not to offend, ut with good will. To shew our simple skill,

That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then, we come but in despight.

We do not come, as minding to content you, Our true intent is.-all for your delight, (you, We are not here.--that you should here repent

The

The actors are at hand;—and by their show,
You shall know all, that you are like to know.

Thes. This fellow doth not stand upon points.

Lyf. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord. It is not enough to fpeak, but to speak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on his prologue, like a child on the recorder; a found, but not in government.

Thes. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impair’d, but all disorder'd. Who is the next? Enter Pyramus, and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and

Lion, as in dumb shew. Pro. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this show,

But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know;

This beauteous lady Thisbe is, certain. This man, with lime and rough-caft, doth present

Wall, the vile wall, which did these lovers funder: And through wall's chink, pour souls, they are con

tent To whisper, at the which let no man wonder. This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,

Presenteth moon-shine: For, if you will know, By moon-Shine did these lovers think no scorn

To meet at Ninus' Tomb, there, there to woo.
This grilly beast, which by name Lion hight,
The trusty Thisbe, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright:
And as she fled, her mantle she let fall ;

Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,

And finds his trusty Thifoe's manile flain; Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade

He bravely broach'd his boiling, bloody breaft.
And Thisbe, tarrying in the mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,

Let

,

Let Lion, Moon-Shine, Wall, and lovers twain,
At large discourse, while here they do remain.

{Exeunt all but Wall. Thef. I wonder, if the Lion be to speak.

Dem. No wonder, my lord; one Lion may, when many

asses do.
Wall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snowt by name, present a wall:
And such a wall, as I would have you think,

a ;
Through which the lovers, Pyromus and Thiste,
Did whisper often very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone doth shew,
That I am that same wall; the truth is so.
And this the cranny is, right and finifter,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
Thef. Would you desire liine and hair to speak

better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition, that ever I heard discourse, my lord. Thes. Pyramus draws near the wall : filence !

Enter Pyramus. Pyr. O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so

black!
O night which ever art, when day is not!
O night, О night, alack, alack, alack,

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

That stands between her father's ground and mine; Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, (eyne. Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine Thanks, courteous wall; Jove shield thee well for

this! But what see I? no Thisbe do I see. O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss;

Curst be thy stones for thus deceiving me! Thes. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.

Pyr.

Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he should 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 Thisbe. This. O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus and me. My cherry lips have often kiss'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 Thiste's face.
Thisbe !

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 ftill.

This. 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.
This. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straight-

way ? This. 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, Thes. Now is the Mural down between the two neighbours.

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

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

Thef. 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.

- Thes. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in a man and a lion.

Enter

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