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Theseus: Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black! O night, which ever art when day is not! O night, O night! alack, alack, alack, I fear my Thisbe's promise is forgot! And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, that stand'st between her father's ground and mine! Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne! Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this! But what see I? No Thisbe do I see. O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss! Cursed be thy stoned for thus deceiving me!
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Theseus: The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
No, in truth, sir, he should not. 'Deceiving me' is Thisbe's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. Yonder she comes.
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Thisbe: Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
I see a voice: now will I to the chink, to spy an I can hear my Thisbe's face. Thisbe!
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Thisbe: My love thou art, my love I think.
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace; and, like Limander, am I trusty still!
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Thisbe: And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
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Thisbe: I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?
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Hippolyta: Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, Mon, for shining now so bright; For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams, I trust to take of truest Thisbe 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!
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Hippolyta: Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
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 lived, that loved, that liked, 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.
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Helena: Ay, and Wall too.
No, assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue?
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