Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/187

Rh 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.

Du. Now is the morall downe between the two Neighbors.

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 passe for excellent men. Here com two noble beasts, in a man and a Lion.

Enter Lyon and Moone-shineLyon. 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 circumference.

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.

Du. It appeares by his smal light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet in courtesie, in all reason, we must stay the time.

Lys. Proceed Moone.

Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my dog.

Dem. Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes Thisby.

Enter Thisby.This. This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue?

Lyon. Oh. The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.

Dem. Well roar’d Lion.

Du. Well run Thisby.

Dut. Well shone Moone. Truly the Moone shines with a good grace.

Du. Wel mouz’d Lion.

Dem. And then came Piramus.

Lys. And so the Lion vanisht.

Enter Piramus.Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy sunny beames, I thanke thee Moone, for shining now so bright: For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames, I trust to taste of truest Thisbies sight. But stay: O spight! but marke, poore Knight, What dreadful dole is heere? Eyes do you see! How can it be! O dainty Ducke: O Deere! Thy mantle good; what staind with blood! Approch you furies fell: O Fates! come, come: Cut thred and thrum, Quaile, crush, conclude, and quell.

Du. This passion, and the death of a deare friend, Would go neere to make a man looke sad.

Dut. Beshrew my heart, but I pittie the man.

Pir. O wherefore Nature, did’st thou Lions frame? Since lion vilde hath heere deflour’d my deere: Which is: no, no, which was the fairest Dame That liu’d, that lou’d, that like’d, that look’d with cheere. Come teares, confound: Out sword, and wound The pap of Piramus: I, that left pap, where heart doth hop; Thus dye I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, now am I fled, my soule is in the sky, Tongue lose thy light, Moone take thy flight, Now dye, dye, dye, dye, dye.

Dem. No Die, but an ace for him; for he is but one.

Lis. Lesse then an ace man. For he is dead, he is nothing.

Du. With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet recouer, and proue an Asse.

Dut. How chance Moone-shine is gone before? Thisby comes backe, and findes her Louer.

Enter Thisby. Duke. She wil finde him by starre-light. Heere she comes, and her passion ends the play.

Dut. Me thinkes shee should not vse a long one for such a Piramus: I hope she will be breefe.

Dem. A Moth wil turne the ballance, which Piramus which Thisby is the better.

Lys. She hath spyed him already, with those sweete eyes.

Dem. And thus she meanes, videlicit.

This. Asleepe my Loue? What, dead my Doue? O Piramus arise: Speake, speake. Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A tombe Must couer thy sweet eyes. These Lilly Lips, this cherry nose, These yellow Cowslip cheekes Are gone, are gone: Louers make mone: His eyes were greene as Leekes. O Sisters three, come, come to mee, With hands as pale as Milke, Lay them in gore, since you haue shore with sheeres, his thred of silke. Tongue not a word: Come trusty sword: Come blade, my brest imbrue: And