The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Illustrated edition (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry Books With Active Table of Contents). William Shakespeare
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Enter Thisby.
This.
O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
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 and 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.
Pyr.
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
This.
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
Pyr.
O, kiss me through the hole of this vild wall!
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 Thisby.]
Wall.
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And being done, thus Wall away doth go.
[Exit.]
The. Now is the moon used between the two neighbors.
Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so willful to hear without warning.
Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The. The best 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.
The. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.
Enter Lion and Moonshine.
Lion.
You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
Then know that I as Snug the joiner am
A lion fell, nor else no lion’s dam,
For, if I should, as lion, come in strife
Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.
The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.
Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valor.
The. True; and a goose for his discretion.
Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valor cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.
The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valor; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well; leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the Moon.
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’ th’ 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’ th’ moon?
Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.
Hip. I am a-weary 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.
Moon. All that I have to say is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon, I the man i’ th’ 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 Thisby.
Enter Thisby.
This.
This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
Lion.
O!
[The Lion roars. Thisby runs off.]
Dem. Well roar’d, Lion.
The. Well run, Thisby.
Hip. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
[The Lion shakes Thisby’s mantle.]
The. Well mous’d, Lion.
Enter Pyramus.
Dem. And then came Pyramus.
[Exit Lion.]
Lys. And so the lion vanish’d.
Pyr.
Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
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!
The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
Hip.