Page:A Midsummer-Nights Dream (Rackham).djvu/194

126 For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,

I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.

But stay, O spite!

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, stain’d with blood!

Approach, ye Furies fell!

O Fates, come, come,

Cut thread and thrum;

Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?

Since lion vile hath here deflower’d my dear:

Which isno, nowhich was the fairest dame

That lived, that loved, that liked, that look’d with cheer.