lovers sunder;
And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content
To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,
Presenteth Moonshine; for if you will know,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.
This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,
The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright;
And as she fled, her mantle she did fall,
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
And finds his trusty Thisby’s mantle slain;
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast;
And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain
At large discourse, while here they do remain.
Exit [with Pyramus,] Thisby, Lion, and Moonshine.
The. I wonder if the lion be to speak.
Dem. No wonder, my lord; one lion may, when many asses do.
Wall.
In this same enterlude 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, Pyramus and Thisby,
Did whisper often, very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone doth show
That I am that same wall; the truth is so;
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
[Enter Pyramus.]
The.
Pyramus draws near the wall. Silence!
Pyr.
O grim-look’d night! O night with hue so black!
O night, which ever art when day is not!
O night, O night! alack, alack, alack,
I fear my Thisby’s promise is forgot!
And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
That stand’st between her father’s ground and mine!
Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne!
[Wall holds up his fingers.]
Thanks, courteous wall; Jove shield thee well for this!
But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!
Curs’d be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
The. The wall methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. ‘Deceiving me’ is Thisby’s cue. She is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.
Enter Thisby.
This.
O wall, full often hast 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 spy and 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.
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 vild wall!
This.
I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
Pyr.
Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
This.
’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.
[Exeunt Pyramus and Thisby.]
