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Dem. Why, all these should be in the lanthorn; for they are in the moon. But, filence; here comes Thiby. Enter 'Thisby.

Thif. This is old Ninny's tomb; where is my love?

Lion. Oh.

[The lion roars, Thisby runs off.

Dem. Well roar'd, Lion.

Thef. Well run, Thisby.

Hip. Well fhone, Moon.

Truly, the Moon fhines with a good grace.

Thef. Well mouz'd, Lion.

Dem. And then came Pyramus.

Lyf. And fo the lion vanish'd.

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy funny beams; I thank thee, Moon, for fhining now fo bright; For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams, I truft to taste of trueft Thisby's fight.

But ftay: O fpight!

Bnt mark, poor Knight,

What dreadful dole is here?

Eyes, do you fee!

How can it be !

O dainty duck! O dear!

Thy mantle good;

What, ftain'd with blood!
Approach, you furies fell:

O fatés! come, come:

Cut thread and thrum,

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.

Thef. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend
Would go near to make a man look fad.

Hip, Befhrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr. O wherefore, nature, didit thou lions 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 cheer. Come tears, confound: out fword, and wound The pap of Pyramus.

AY,

Ay, that left pap, where heart doth hop:

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.

Now am I dead, now am I fled, my foul is in the sky;
Tongue, lofe thy light: moon, take thy flight;
Now die, die, die, die, die.

Dem. No die, but an ace for him; for he is but one. Lyf. Lefs than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

Thef. With the help of a furgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance the Moonshine is gone, before Thisby comes back and finds her lover?

Enter Thisby.

Thef. She will find him by ftar-light.
Here he comes; and her paffion ends the play.

Hip. Methinks, fhe fhould not use a long one for fuch a Pyramus: I hope, fhe will be brief.

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

Lyf. She hath fpied him already with those sweet eyes.
Dem. And thus fhe moans, videlicet.-(39
Thif. Afleep, my love?

What dead, my dove?

O Pyramus arife :

Speak, fpeak. Quite dumb?

Dead, dead? a tomb

Muft cover thy fweet

eyes.

These lilly brows, (40)
This cherry nose,

(39) And thus fhe means- -] think without any meaning. It laments over her dead Pyramus. paffion ends the play.

Thus all the editions have it, I should be, thus fhe moans; i. e. It is faid a little above, And ber

(40) Thefe lilly lips, this cherry nofe.] All Thisby's lamentation, till now, runs in regular rhyme and metre. But both, by fome accident, are in this fingle inftance interrupted. I fufpect, the Poet

wrote:

Thefe lilly brows,
This cherry nofe,

Now black brows being a beauty, lilly brows are as ridiculous as a eberry mole, green eyes, or cowflip cheeks.

Thefe

Thefe yellow cowflip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone :
Lovers, make moan!
His eyes were green as leeks.
O fifters three,
Come, come to me,

With hands as pale as milk;

Lave them in gore,

Since you have shore

With theers his thread of filk.

Tongue, not a word:

Come, trufty fword;

Come, blade, my breast imbrue:

And farewell, friends,

Thus Thisby ends;

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Thef. Moon-fhine and Lion are left to bury the dead. Dem. Ay, and Wall too.

Bot. No, I affure you, the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to fee the epilogue, or to hear a bergomask dance, between two of our company?

Thef. 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 Thifby's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and fo it is truly, and very notably discharg'd. 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 almoft fairy time.

I fear, we shall out-fleep the coming morn,
As much as we this night have over-watch'd.
This palpable grofs play hath well beguil'd

The heavy gaite of night. Sweet friends, to bed,
A fortnight hold we this folemnity,

In nightly revel and new jollity.

VOL. I.

[Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]

Enter Puck.

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon: (41)
Whilft the heavy plougnman fnoars,
All with weary task fore-done.
Now the wafted brands do glow,

Whilft the fcritch-owl, fcritching 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 Faries, that do run

By the triple Hecate's team,
From the prefence of the fun,
Following darknefs like a dream,

(41) And the wolf beholds the moon :] As it is the defign of thefe lines to characterize the animals, as they prefent themselves at the hour of midnight; and as the wolf is not justly characteriz'd by saying he bebolds the moon; which all other beafts of prey, then awake, do: and as the founds these animals make at that feafon, feem alle intended to be reprefented; I make no queftion but the Poet wrote; And the wolfe beboruls the moon.

For fo the wolf is exactly characterized, it being his peculiar property to bowl at the moon. (Bebowl, as bemoan, befeem, betrim, and an hunMr. Warburton. dred others.)

So, again, in As you like it.

Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon.

So in Beaumont and Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess.

or the owl.

Or our great enemy, that still doth bowl

Against the moon's pale beams.

For this is spoken of the wolfe, and by a fhepherd, to whom that beaft was an enemy, with regard to his flock. And fo in Marfton's Antonio and Mellida, where the whole paffage feems to be copied from this of our Author.

Now barks the wolf against the full-cheek'd moon;
Now lyons half-cram'd entrails rear for food;
Now croaks the toad, and night-crows fbrick aloud,
Fluttring 'bout cafements of departing fouls:
Now gape the graves, and thro' their yawns let loofe
Imprifon'd fpirits to revifit earth,

Now

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 the houfe give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowfy fire,

Every elf, and fairy fprite,

Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty after me

Sing, and dance it trippingly.

Queen. First rehearse this fong by rotę,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,

Will we fing, and bless this place.

The SON G.

Now, until the break of day,
Through this houfe each Fairy ftray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us fhall blessed be:
And the iffue, there create,
Ever fhall 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, hair-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, fuch as are
Despised in nativity,

Shall upon their children be.
With this field-dew confecrate,

Every Fairy take his gate,

And each feveral chamber blefs,

Through this palace with fweet peace.
Ever fhall it fafely reft,

And the owner of it bleft.
Trip away, make no stay ;
Meet me all by break of day.

H 2

Puck.

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