Part 377 (1/2)

THESEUS. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

DEMETRIUS. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.

LYSANDER. This lion is a very fox for his valour.

THESEUS. True; and a goose for his discretion.

DEMETRIUS. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

THESEUS. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well. Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the Moon.

MOONs.h.i.+NE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present- DEMETRIUS. He should have worn the horns on his head.

THESEUS. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circ.u.mference.

MOONs.h.i.+NE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; Myself the Man i' th' Moon do seem to be.

THESEUS. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man should be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i' th' moon?

DEMETRIUS. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.

HIPPOLYTA. I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!

THESEUS. 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.

LYSANDER. 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.

DEMETRIUS. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for all these are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisby.

Re-enter THISBY

THISBY. This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love?

LION. [Roaring] O- [THISBY runs off]

DEMETRIUS. Well roar'd, Lion.

THESEUS. Well run, Thisby.

HIPPOLYTA. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon s.h.i.+nes with a good grace. [The LION tears THISBY'S Mantle, and exit]

THESEUS. Well mous'd, Lion.

Re-enter PYRAMUS

DEMETRIUS. And then came Pyramus.

LYSANDER. And so the lion vanish'd.

PYRAMUS. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, Moon, for s.h.i.+ning 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 he?

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.

THESEUS. This pa.s.sion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

HIPPOLYTA. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

PYRAMUS. 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 liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer.

Come, tears, confound; Out, sword, and wound The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, Where heart doth hop. [Stabs himself]

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 flight. [Exit MOONs.h.i.+NE]

Now die, die, die, die, die. [Dies]

DEMETRIUS. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.