see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes. Enter THISBE. This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, 190 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 an 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. 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 Thisbe. Wall. Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; Myself the man i' the moon do seem to be. The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the man i' the moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff. Hip. I am aweary of this moon: would he would change! The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Lys. Proceed, Moon. 260 Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lanthorn; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe. Quail, crush, conclude, and quell! The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame? Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear: Which is-no, no-which was the fairest dame That lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd with cheer. Come, tears, confound; Out, sword, and wound The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, 300 Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But, come, your Bergo[A dance. Where heart doth hop: [Stabs himself. | mask: let your epilogue alone. Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve: 371 I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn Enter PUCK. [Exeunt. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, Now the wasted brands do glow, 380 Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves all gaping wide, By the triple Hecate's team, To sweep the dust behind the door. 390 [Song and dance. Obe. Now, until the break of day, Ever shall be fortunate. So shall all the couples three Shall upon their children be. And each several chamber bless, 410 420 Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail, Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, Do overpeer the petty traffickers, That curtsy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind, Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads; And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me sad. 20 OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot. '} servants to Portia. PORTIA, a rich heiress. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants. SCENE: Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. Salar. Why, then you are in love. Ant. Fie, fie! Salar. Not in love neither? Then let us say Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well: you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you And you embrace the occasion to depart. Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. 60 Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange must it be so? Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you: but at dinner-time, Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; 70 They lose it that do buy it with much care: A stage where every man must play a part, Gra. 81 Let me play the fool: 90 If they should speak, would almost damn those ears I'll tell thee more of this another time: 100 Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner- I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Gra. Well, keep me company but two years moe, In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. 120 Ant. Well, tell me now what lady is the same Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth, To wind about my love with circumstance; 150 160 Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left; 170 180 Neither have I money nor commodity Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that 130 starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good sentences and well pronounced. |