This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and bush of thorne, Presenteth moone-shine. For if you will know, By moone-shine did these Louers thinke no scorne To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe: This grizly beast (which Lyon hight by name) The trusty Thisby, comming first by night, Did scarre away, or rather did affright: And as she fled, her mantle she did fall; Which Lyon vile with b.l.o.o.d.y mouth did staine.
Anon comes Piramus, sweet youth and tall, And findes his Thisbies Mantle slaine; Whereat, with blade, with b.l.o.o.d.y blamefull blade, He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breast, And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry shade, His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Let Lyon, Moone-shine, Wall, and Louers twaine, At large discourse, while here they doe remaine.
Exit all but Wall.
Thes. I wonder if the Lion be to speake
Deme. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when many a.s.ses doe.
Exit Lyon, Thisbie, and Mooneshine.
Wall. In this same Interlude, it doth befall, That I, one Snowt (by name) present a wall: And such a wall, as I would haue you thinke, That had in it a crannied hole or c.h.i.n.ke: Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie Did whisper often, very secretly.
This loame, 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 sinister, Through which the fearfull Louers are to whisper
Thes. Would you desire Lime and Haire to speake better?
Deme. It is the wittiest part.i.tion, that euer I heard discourse, my Lord
Thes. Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, silence.
Enter Pyramus.
Pir. O grim lookt night, o night with hue so blacke, O night, which euer art, when day is not: O night, o night, alacke, alacke, alacke, I feare my Thisbies promise is forgot.
And thou o wall, thou sweet and louely wall, That stands between her fathers ground and mine, Thou wall, o Wall, o sweet and louely wall, Shew me thy c.h.i.n.ke, to blinke through with mine eine.
Thankes courteous wall. Ioue shield thee well for this.
But what see I? No Thisbie doe I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no blisse, Curst be thy stones for thus deceiuing mee
Thes. The wall me-thinkes being sensible, should curse againe
Pir. No in truth sir, he should not. Deceiuing me, Is Thisbies cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy Her through the wall. You shall see it will fall.
Enter Thisbie.
Pat as I told you; yonder she comes
This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my mones, For parting my faire Piramus, and me My cherry lips haue often kist thy stones; Thy stones with Lime and Haire knit vp in thee
Pyra. I see a voyce; now will I to the c.h.i.n.ke, To spy and I can heare my Thisbies face. Thisbie?
This. My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke
Pir. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Louers grace, And like Limander am I trusty still
This. And like Helen till the Fates me kill
Pir. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true
This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you
Pir. O kisse me through the hole of this vile wall
This. I kisse the wals hole, not your lips at all
Pir. Wilt thou at Ninnies tombe meete me straight way?
This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay
Wall. Thus haue I Wall, my part discharged so; And being done, thus Wall away doth go.
Exit Clow.
Du. Now is the morall downe between the two Neighbours
Dem. No remedie my Lord, when Wals are so wilfull, to heare without warning
Dut. This is the silliest stuffe that ere I heard
Du. The best in this kind are but shadowes, and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them
Dut. It must be your imagination then, & not theirs
Duk. If wee imagine no worse of them then they of themselues, they may pa.s.se for excellent men. Here com two n.o.ble beasts, in a man and a Lion.
Enter Lyon and Moone-shine
Lyon. You Ladies, you (whose gentle harts do feare The smallest monstrous mouse that creepes on floore) May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere, When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roare.
Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am A Lion fell, nor else no Lions dam: For if I should as Lion come in strife Into this place, "twere pittie of my life
Du. A verie gentle beast, and of good conscience
Dem. The verie best at a beast, my Lord, y ere I saw
Lis. This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor
Du. True, and a Goose for his discretion
Dem. Not so my Lord: for his valor cannot carrie his discretion, and the fox carries the Goose
Du. His discretion I am sure cannot carrie his valor: for the Goose carries not the Fox. It is well; leaue it to his discretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone
Moone. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone present
De. He should haue worne the hornes on his head
Du. Hee is no crescent, and his hornes are inuisible, within the circ.u.mference
Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moone present: My selfe, the man i"th Moone doth seeme to be
Du. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man Should be put into the Lanthorne. How is it els the man i"th Moone?
Dem. He dares not come there for the candle.
For you see, it is already in snuffe
Dut. I am wearie of this Moone; would he would change