[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, one 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.
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.
MOONSHINE
This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present:
DEMETRIUS
He should have worn the horns on his head.
THESEUS
He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.
MOONSHINE
This lanthorn doth the hornèd moon present;
Myself the man i’ the 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’ the 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 lantern is the moon; I, the man i’ the 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 Thisbe.
[Enter THISBE.]
THISBE
This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
LION
Oh!
[The LION roars.—THISBE runs off.]
DEMETRIUS
Well roared, lion.
THESEUS
Well run, Thisbe.
HIPPOLYTA
Well shone, moon.—Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
[The LION tears THISBE’S Mantle, and exit.]
THESEUS
Well moused, lion.
DEMETRIUS
And so comes Pyramus.
LYSANDER
And then the lion vanishes.
[Enter PYRAMUS.]
PYRAMUS
Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright:
For, by thy gracious golden, glittering streams,
I trust to take of truest Thisby’s 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! stained with blood?
Approach, ye furies fell!
O fates! come, come;
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, rush, conclude, and quell!
THESEUS
This passion, 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:—
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!
Now die, die, die, die, die.
[Dies. Exit MOONSHINE.]
DEMETRIUS
No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
LYSANDER
Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.
THESEUS
With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover and prove an ass.
HIPPOLYTA
How chance moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
THESEUS
She will find him by starlight.—Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.
[Enter THISBE.]
HIPPOLYTA
Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.
DEMETRIUS
A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better.
LYSANDER
She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
DEMETRIUS
And thus she moans, videlicet.—
THISBE
Asleep, my love?
What, dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arise,
Speak, speak. Quite dumb?