Imatges de pÓgina

And in conclufion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a Welcome. Truft me, Sweet,
Out of this Silence yet I pick'd a Welcome:
And in the modefty of fearful Duty,
I read as much, as from the ratling Tongue
Of fawcy and audacious Eloquence.
Love therefore, and Tongue-tide Simplicity,
In leaft, speak moft, to my Capacity.

Enter Quince for the Prologue.

Ege. So please your Grace, the Prologue is addreft. Thef. Let him approach. [Flor. Trum Pre. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you fhould think we come not to offend, But with good will. To fhew our fimple Skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Confider then, we come but in defpight. We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight, We are not here. That you should here repent you, The Actors are at hand; and by their Show,

You fhall know all, that you are like to know.

Thef. This Fellow doth not ftand upon his Points. Lyf. He hath rid his Prologue, like a rough Colt; he knows not the ftop. A good Moral, my Lord. It is not enough to speak, but to fpeak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on his Prologue, like a Child on the Recorder; a found, but not in government.

Thef. His Speech was like a tangled Chain; nothing impair'd, but all diforder'd. Who is the next?

Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.

Enter Pyramus, and Thisby, Wall, Moon-fhine,
and Lion.

Pro. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this Show,
But wonder on, 'till Truth make all things plain.
This Man is Pyramus, if you would know;
This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certain.

This Man with Lime and Rough-caft, doth present
Wall, the vile Wall, which did thefe Lovers funder :
And through Wall's Chink, poor Souls, they are content
To whifper. At the which, let no Man wonder.


This Man with Lanthorn. Dog, and Bush of Thorn,
Prefenteth Moon-fhine: For, if you will know,
By Moon-fhine did these Lovers think no fcorn
To meet at Ninus Tomb, there, there to woo.
This grizly Beaft, which Lion hight by Name,
The trufty Thisby, coming first by Night.
Did fcare away, or rather did affright:
And as the filed, her Mantle fhe did fall;
Which Lion vile with bloody Mouth did ftain.
Anon comes Pyramus, fweet Youth and tali,
And finds his gentle Thisby's Mantle flain;
Whereat, with Blade, with bloody blameful Blades
He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody Breaft,
And Thisby, tarrying in the Mulberry Shade,
His Dagger drew, and died. For all the reft,
Let Lyon, Moon-fbine, Wall, and Lovers twain,
At large difcourfe, while here they do remain.

[Exeunt all but Wall.

Thef. I wonder if the Lion be to speak.

Dem. No wonder, my Lord; one Lion may, when many Affes do.

Wall. In this fame Interlude it doth befal,

That I, one Snowt by name, prefent a Wall:
And fuch 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 fecretly.

This Loam, this Rough-caft, and this Stone doth fhew,
That I am that fame Wall; the truth is fo.

And this the Cranny is, right and finister,

Through which the fearful Lovers are to whisper.

Thef. Would you defire Lime and Hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittieft Partition that ever I heard dif courfe, my Lord.

Thef. Pyramus draws near the Wall: Silence.

Enter Pyramus.

Fyr. O grim look'd Night! O Night with hue fo black! O Night, which ever art when Day is not!

O Night, O Night, alack, alack, alack,

I fear

my Thisby's Promife is forgot.

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And thou, O Wall, thou fweet and lovely Wall,
That ftands between her Father's Ground and mine,
Thou Wall, O Wall, O fweet and lovely Wall,
Shew me thy Chink, to blink through with mine Eyn.
Thanks, courteous Wall; Jove fhield thee well for this.
But what fee I? No Thisby do I fee.

O wicked Wall, through whom I fee no Bliss,
Curft be thy Stones for thus deceiving me.

Thef. The Wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould Curfe again.

Pyr. No in truth, Sir, he should not. Deceiving me,
Is Thisby's cue; he is to enter, and I am to spy
Her through the Wall. You fhall fee it will fall.
Enter Thisby.

Pat. I told you; yonder the comes.

Thif. O Wall, full often haft thou heard my Moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.

My cherry Lips hath often kiss'd thy Stones;
Thy Stones with Lime and Hair knit up in thee.
Pyr. I hear a Voice; now will I to the Chink,
To fpy and I can fee my Thisby's Face. Thisby?
This. My Love thou art, my Love, I think.

Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy Lovers Grace..
And like Limander am I trufty ftill.

This. And I like Helen, 'till the Fates me kill.
Pjr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
Thif. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pyr. O kifs me through the hole of this vile Wall.
Thif. I kifs the Wall's hole, not your Lips at all.

Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's Tomb meet me ftraightway?
Thif. Tide Life, tide Death, I come without delay.
Wall. Thus have I Wall, my part discharged fo:
And being done, thus Wall away
Thef. Now is the Moral down between the two Neigh-





Dem. No remedy, my Lord, when Walls are fo wilful, to hear without warning.

Hip. This is the fillieft Stuff that e'er I heard.

Thef. The beft in this kind are but Shadows, and the worst are no worse, if Imagination amend them.


Hip. It must be your Imagination then, and not theirs. Thef. If we imagine no worfe of them than they of themfelves, they may pafs for Excellent Men. Here comes two noble Beasts, in a Man and a Lion.

Enter Lion and Moon-fhine.

Lion. You Ladies, you, whofe gentle Hearts do fear
The fmalleft monftrous Moufe that creeps on floor,
May now perchance both quake and tremble here,
When Lion rough in wildeft Rage doth roar.
Then know that I, one Snug the Joiner, am
No Lion fell, nor elfe no Lion's Dam:
For if I fhould as Lion come in Strife
Into this place, 'twere pity of my Life.

Thef. A very gentle Beaft, and of a good Conscience.
Dem. The very best at a Beast, my Lord, that e'er I faw.
Lyf. This Lion is a very Fox for his Valour.
Thef. True, and a Goofe for his Difcretion.

Dem. Not fo, my Lord? for his Valour cannot carry his Difcretion, and the Fox carries the Goose.

Thef. His Difcretion I am fure cannot carry his Valour; for the Goofe carries not the Fox. It is well: Leave it to his Difcretion, and let us hearken to the Moon,

Moon. This Lanthorn doth the horned Moon prefent. Dem. He should have worn the Horns on his Head. Thef. He is no Crefcent, and his Horns are invifible, within the Circumference..

Moon. This Lanthorn doth the horned Moon prefent: My felf the Man i'th' Moon doth feem to be.

Thef. This is the greatest error of all the reft: The Man fhould be put into the Lanthorn: How is it elfe the Man i' th' Moon?

Dem. He dares not come there for the Candle;

For you fee it is already in Snuff.

Hip. I am weary of this Moon; would he would Change.

Thef. It appears by his fmall Light of Discretion, that he is in the Wane; but yet in courtefie, in all reason, we must ftay the time.

Lyf. Proceed, Moon.

Moon, All that I have to fay, is to tell you, that the

E 3


Lanthorn is the Moon; I, the Man in the Moon; this Thorn Bufh, my Thorn Buth; and this Dog, my Dog.

Dem. Why, all thefe fhould be in the Lanthorn; for they are in the Moon. But filence; here comes Thisby.

Enter Thisby.

Thif. This is old Ninny's Tomb; where is thy Love? [The Lion roars, Thisby runs of.

Lion. Oh.

Dem. Well roar'd Lion.

Thef. Well run Thisby.

Hip. Well fhone Moon.

Truly the Moon fhines with good grace,

Thef. Well mouth'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 Streams,
I truft to tafte of trueft Thisby's fight.

But ftay: O fpight! but mark, poor Knight,
What dreadful dole is here?

Eyes do you fee! How can it be !

O dainty Duck! O Deer!

Thy Mantle good; what ftain'd with Blood!
Approach you Furies fell:

O Fates! Come, come: Cut Thred and Thrum,
Quail, crafh, 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, didft thou Lions frame?
Since Lion wild 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 Cheers Come Tears, confound: Out Sword, and wound

The Pap of Pyramus.

Ay, that left Pap, where Heart doth hop:

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus,

Now am I dead, now am I fled, my Soul is in the Sky,


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