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« But stay ;
Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pythey are in the moon. But, silence; here comes Thisbe. ramus, which Thisbe, is the better.
Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet Enter ThisBE.
eyes. This.“ This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my Dem. And thus she moans, videlicet. love?"
This. “ Asleep, my love ? Lion. « Oh.
“ What, dead, my dove ? (The Lion roars. THISBE runs off “ O Pyramus, arise, Dem. Well roared, lion,
“ Speak, speak. Quite dumb ? The. Well run, Thisbe.
“ Dead, dead? A tomb Hip. Well shone, moon. - Truly, the moon “ Must cover thy sweet eyes. shines with a good grace.
“ These lily brows, The. Well moused, lion.
“ This cherry nose, (The Lion tears Tuisbe's mantle, and exit. “ These yellow cowslip cheeks, Dem And so comes Pyramus.
“ Are gone, are gone : Lys. And so the lion vanish’d.
“ Lovers, make moan ! Enter PYRAMUS.
“ His eyes were green as leeks.
“ O sisters three, Pyr. “ Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny « Come, come, to me, beams;
“ With hands as pale as milk; “ I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright; “ Lay them in gore, “ For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering streams,
“ Since you have shore “ I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
“ With shears his thread of silk. O spite!
“ Tongue, not a word : « But mark; Poor knight,
“ Come, trusty sword; “ What dreadful dole is here?
“ Come, blade, my breast imbrue : “ Eyes, do you see?
“ And farewell, friends; « How can it be?
“ Thus Thisbe ends: “ O dainty duck ! O dear!
“ Adieu, adieu, adieu.”
[Dies. “ Thy mantle good,
The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead. “ What, stain'd with blood ?
Dem. Ay, and wall too. “ Approach, ye furies fell !
Bot. No, I assure you; the wall is down that « O fates! come, come ;
parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the “ Cut thread and thrum; ?
epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance, between “ Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!”
two of our company ? The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend,
The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play would go near to make a man look sad.
needs no excuse.
Never excuse ; for when the Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Pyr. “O,wherefore, nature, didst thou lionsframe? | Marry, if he that writ it, had play'd Pyramus and
“ Since lion vile hath here deflour’d my dear : hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have “ Which is no, no — which was the fairest dame, been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very “ That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik’d, that look'd with notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask: “ cheer, S
let your epilogue alone. « Come, tears, confound;
[Here a dance of Clowns. “ Out, sword, and wound
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve : “ The pap of Pyramus :
Lovers, to bed ; 'tis almost fairy time. “Ay, that left pap,
I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn, “ Where heart doth hop :
As much as we this night have overwatch'd. “ Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
This palpable gross play hath well beguild
The heavy gait of night. - Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity, “ My soul is in the sky:
In nightly revels, and new jollity. [Ereunt. “ Tongue, loose thy light !
“ Moon, take thy flight! “ Now die, die, die, die, die."
Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, is nothing
And the wolf behowls the moon; The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, recover, and prove an ass.
All with weary task fordone, 4 Hip. How chance moonshine is gone, before
Now the wasted brands do glow, Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, The. She will find him by star-light.--Here she
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shroud. comes; and her passion ends the play.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
In the church-way paths to glide : · Corintenance
2 Coarse yarn.
And we fairies, that do run
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious \, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be. –
With this field-dew consecrate, Shall disturb this hallow'd house :
Every fairy take his gait 6; I am sent, with broom, before,
And each several chamber bless, To sweep the dust behind the door.
Through this palace with sweet peace:
E'er shall it in safety rest, Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with their Train. And the owner of it blest. Obe. Through this house give glimmering light,
Make no stay; By the dead and drowsy fire :
Meet me all by break of day. Every elf, and fairy sprite,
(Exeunt OBERON, TITANIA, and Train. Hop as light as bird from brier ; And his ditty, after me,
Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended) Sing, and dance it trippingly.
That you have but slumber'd here, T'ita. First, rehearse this song by rote :
While these visions did appear, To each word a warbling note,
And this weak and ille theme, Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
No more yielding but a dream,
Genlles, do not reprehend ;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, To the best bride-bed will we,
We will make amends, ere long : Which by us shall blessed be;
Else the Puck a liar call. So shall all the couples three
So, good night unto you all. Ever true in loving be;
Give me your hands, if we be friends, And the blots of nature's hand
And Rolin shall restore amends. (Exita Shall not in their issue stand;
} Lords, attending on the Princess of ROSALINE
FERDINAND, King of Navarre.
Mots, Page to Armado.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Ladies attening on the Princoss.
JAQUENETTA, a Country Girl.
Officers and others, attendants on the King and COSTARD, a Clown.
ACT I. SCENE I.—Navarre. A Park, with a Palace in it. The grosser manner of these world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves : Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain. To love, to wealth, to pomp, 1 pine and die;
king. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, With all these living in philosophy. Live register'd upon our brazen tombs,
Biron. I can but say their protestation over, And then grace us in the disgrace of death ; So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, When, spite of cormorant devouring time,
That is, To live and study here three years.
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there :
And, one day in a week to touch no food; Therefore, brave conquerors : – for so you are, And but one meal on every day beside ; That war against your own affections,
The which, I hope, is not enrolled there : And the huge arny of the world's desires, – And then, to sleep but three hours in the night, Our late edíct shall strongly stand in force : And not be seen to wink of all the day ; Navarre shall be the wonder of the world ;
(When I was wont to think no harm all night, Our court shall be a little Academe,
And make a dark night too of half the day ;) Still and contemplative in living art.
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there : You three, Birón, Dumain, and Longaville, O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep; Have sworn 'for three years' term to live with me, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep. My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes, l'ing. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. That are recorded in this schedule here:
Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please ? Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names ; | I only swore, to study with your grace, That his own hand may strike his honour down, And stay here in your court for three years' space. That violates the smallest branch herein :
Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. If you are arm’d to do, as sworn to do,
Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. — Subscribe to your deep oath, and keep it too. What is the end of study? let me know.
Long. I am resolv’d: 'tis but a three years' fast; King. Why, that to know, which else we should The mind shalı banquet, though the body pine :
not know. Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits Biron. Things hid and barr’d, you mean, from Make rich the ribs, but bank'rout quite the wits.
common sense? Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified ; King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense.