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Hip. Well shone, moon. - Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.

Hip. Well moused, lion. (The Lion tears Thisbe's
manile, and exit.)

Dem. And so comes Pyramus.
Lys. And then the moon vanishes.

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Enter Pyramus.
Pyr. "Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny

" I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright:
"For, by ths gracious, golden, glittering streams,
" I trust to taste of truest 'Thisby's sight.

“But stay,- 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, staind 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. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyr." O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame ?

"Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear:
"Which is - no, no - which was the fairest dame,
" That lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd with
"Come, tears, confound ;

(cheur. " 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 :

"Tongue, lose thy light!
"Moon, take thy light!

(Dies.) "Now die, die, die, die, die."

[Exit Moonshine. Dem. No die, bat an ace, for him, for he is but one.

Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.

The. With the help of a surgeon, he might get recover, and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance moonshine is gonc, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover ?

The. She will find him by star-light. – Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.

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Enter Thisbe. Hip. Methinks, she should not use a long one, for such a Pyramus: I hope, she will be brief.

Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
Dem. And thus she moans, videlicil.
This." Asleep, my love ?

"What, dead, my dove ?
“ O Pyramus, arise,

* Speak, speak. Quite dumb ?

"Dead, dead ? A tomb ** Must cover thy sweet eyes.

" These lily brows,

“ This cherry nose,
“ These yellow cowslip cheeks,

• Are gone, are gone :

Lovers, make moan!
" His eyes were green as leeks.

O sisters three,
"Come, come to me,
" With hands as pale as milk;

" Lay them in gore,

"Since you have shore
" With shears his thread of silk.

" Tongue, not a word :

"Come, trusty sword;
“Come, blade, my breast imbrue:

" And farewell friends ;

“ Thus Thisbe ends : "Adieu, adieu, adieu."

(Dies.) The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead. Dem. Ay, and wall too. Rot. No, I assure you ; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our company

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The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse, for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. 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 Bergomask: let your epilogue alone.

(Here a dance of Clowns.)
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:
Lovers, to bed ; 'tis almost fairy tine.
I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn,
As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
The heavy gait of night.-Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels, and new jollity.



Enter PUCK.

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

All with weary task fordonie.
Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching 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,
Every one lets forth his sprite,

In the church-way paths to glide :
And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecat's team,
From the presence of the sun,

Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic; not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent, with broom, before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their train.
Obe. Through this house gire glimmering light,

By the dead and drowsy fire :
Every elf and fairy sprite,

Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,

Sing, and dance it trippingly.
Tita. First, rehearse this song by rote:

To each word a warbling note,
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.

Obe. Now, until the break of day,

Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be,
And the issue there create,
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be:
And the blots of nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.-
With this field-dew conseerate,
Every fairy take his gait;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace with sweet peace :
B'er shall it in safety rest,
And the owner of it blest.

Trip away;

Make no stay i Meet me all by break of day.

[Éreunt Oberon, Titania, and train Puck. If we shadows have offended, Think but this, (and

all is mended.)
That you have but slumber'd here,
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend; If you pardon, we will mend. And, as I'm an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long : Else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. (Bxit.

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