DEMETRIUS.
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.

THESEUS.
Pyramus draws near the wall; silence.

Enter Pyramus.

PYRAMUS.
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.

[Wall holds up his fingers.]

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,
Curs’d be thy stones for thus deceiving me!

THESEUS.
The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.

PYRAMUS.
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. You shall see it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.

Enter Thisbe.

THISBE.
O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

PYRAMUS.
I see a voice; now will I to the chink,
To spy an I can hear my Thisbe’s face.
Thisbe?

THISBE.
My love thou art, my love I think.

PYRAMUS.
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace;
And like Limander am I trusty still.

THISBE.
And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.

PYRAMUS.
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.

THISBE.
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

PYRAMUS.
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.

THISBE.
I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.

PYRAMUS.
Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?

THISBE.
’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.

WALL.
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

[Exeunt Wall, Pyramus and Thisbe.]

THESEUS.
Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.

DEMETRIUS.
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.

HIPPOLYTA.
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

THESEUS.
The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

HIPPOLYTA.
It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.

THESEUS.
If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.

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.

MOONSHINE.
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 then came Pyramus.

LYSANDER.
And so the lion vanished.

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 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, stained with blood?
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come;
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, 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.

Enter Thisbe.

Here she comes, and her passion ends the play.

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: he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us!

LYSANDER.
She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

DEMETRIUS.
And thus she means, videlicet —

THISBE.
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 lips,
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.]

THESEUS.
Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

DEMETRIUS.
Ay, and Wall too.

BOTTOM.
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?

THESEUS.
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 time.
I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn
As much as we this night have overwatch’d.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil’d
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity
In nightly revels and new jollity.

[Exeunt.]

Enter Puck.

PUCK.
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching 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 Hecate’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.

OBERON.
Through the house give 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.

TITANIA.
First rehearse your song by rote,
To each word a warbling note;
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.

[Song and Dance.]

OBERON.
Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessèd 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 consecrate,
Every fairy take his gait,
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace;
And the owner of it blest.
Ever shall it in safety rest,
Trip away. Make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day.

[Exeunt 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 am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnèd 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.

[Exit.]