Confider then, we come but in despight. We do not come, as minding to content you, (34) Our true intent is.- all for your delight, We are not here.-that you fhould here repent you, The actors are at hand; and by their fhow, You fhall know all, that you are like to know. Thef. This fellow doth not ftand upon points. Lyf. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; he knows not the ftop. A good moral, my lord. It is not enough to fpeak, but to speak true. Hip. Indeed he hath play'd on his prologue, like a child on the recorder; a found, but not in govern ment. Thef. His fpeech was like a tangled chain; nothing impair'd, but all diforder'd. Who is the next? Enter Pyramus, and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion, as in dumb show. Pro. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this fhow, But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know; This beauteous lady, Thisby is, certain. This man, with lime and rough-caft, doth prefent (34) We do not come as minding to content you, Our true Intent is all for your Delight, We are not here that you should here repent you, The Actors are at hand; &c.] Thus the late accurate Editor, deviating from all the Old Copies, has, by a certain peculiar Fatality, pointed this Paffage. The whole Glee and Humour of the Prologue is in the Actor's making false Refts, and fo turning every Member of the Sentences into flagrant Nonfenfe. And Mr. Pope feems very cruel to our Author, (confidering, how many Paffages, which fhould have been pointed right, he has pointed wrong;) that here, when he should point wrong, with a ftrange Perversenefs, and unufual Appetite for Senfe, he will point right. This grifly beaft, which by name Lion hight, (35) His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, [Exeunt all but Wall. Thef. I wonder, if the Lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord; one Lion may, when many affes do. Wall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befal, That I, one Snout by name, prefent a Wall: (36) This loam, this rough-caft, and this stone doth shew, And this the cranny is, right and finister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper. Thef. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence! (35) •which Lion hight by name,] As all the other Parts of this Speech are in alternate Rhyme, excepting that it clofes with a Couplet; and as no Rhyme is left to, name; we must conclude, either a Verfe is flipt out, which cannot now be retriev'd: or, by a Tranfpofition of the Words, as I have placed them, the Poet intended a Triplet. (36) That I, one Flute by name,] Thus Mr. Pope gives it us, either from the old Quarto's, or by Accident. But Accident, or Authority, happens to be wrong in it: and we must reftore, Snout, with the old Folio's; for it appears in the firft A&, that Flute was to perform Thisbe. Enter Enter Pyramus. Pyr. O grim-look'd night! O night with hue fo black! I fear, my Thisbe's promife is forgot. That ftands between her father's ground and mine; Thou wall, O Wall, O fweet and lovely wall, Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne. Thanks, courteous wall; Jove fhield thee well for this! But what fee I? no Thisbe do I fee. O wicked wall, through whom I fee no bliss; Thef. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould curfe again. Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he should not. Deceiving me, is Thisbe's cue; fhe is to enter, and I am to spy her through the wall. You fhall fee, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes. Enter Thisbe. This. O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus and me. My cherry lips have often kifs'd thy ftones; Thy ftones with lime and hair knit up in thee. Thisbe! Thif. My love! thou art, my love, I think. Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace. And like Limander am I trufty ftill. Thif. And I like Helen, till the fates me kill. Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true. Pyr. O kifs me through the hole of this vile wall. Wall. Wall. Thus have I Wall my part discharged fo: And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit. Thef. Now is the Mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wilful to hear without warning. Hip. This is the fillieft ftuff that e'er I heard. Thef. The best in this kind are but fhadows, and the worst are no worse if imagination amend them. Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. Thef. If we imagine no worfe of them than they of themselves, they may pafs for excellent men. come two noble beafts in a moon and a lion. (37) Enter Lion and Moonshine. Here Lion. You, ladies, you, whofe gentle hearts do fear The fmalleft monftrous moufe that creeps on floor, May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, When Lion rough in wildeft rage doth roar. Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am No Lion fell, nor elfe no Lion's dam: For if I fhould as Lion come in ftrife Into this place, 'twere pity of my life. Thef. A very gentle beaft, and of a good confcience. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I faw. Lyf. This Lion is a very fox for his valour. Thef. True; and a goofe for his discretion. Dem. Not fo, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his difcretion, and the fox carries the goofe. (37) Here come two noble Beafts in a Man and a Lion.] I don't think the Jeft here is either compleat, or right. It is differently pointed in feveral of the Old Copies, which, I fufpect, may lead us to the true Reading, viz. Here come to noble Beafts, in a Man and a Lion. immediately upon Thefeus faying this, enter Lion and Moonshine. It feems very probable therefore, that our Author wrote in a Moon and a Lion. the one having a Crefcent and a Lanthorn before him, and reprefenting the Max in the Moon; the other in a Lion's hide. Thef. Thef. His difcretion, I am fure, cannot carry his valour; for the goofe carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his difcretion, and let us hearken to the moon. Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present: Dem. He fhould have worn the horns on his head. Thef. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invifible within the circumference. Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned Moon present: My felf the man i'th' moon doth seem to be. Thef. This is the greatest error of all the reft; the man fhould be put into the lanthorn: how is it elfe the man i'th' moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for you see, it is already in fnuff. Hip. I am weary of this moon; would he would change. Thef. It appears by his fmall light of difcretion, that he is in the wane; but yet in courtefie, in all reafon we must stay the time. Lyf. Proceed, Moon. Moon All that I have to fay, is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bufh; and this dog, my dog. Dem. Why, all these fhould be in the lanthorn; for they are in the moon. But, filence; here comes Thisby. Enter Thisbe. Thif. This is old Ninny's tomb; where is my love? [The Lion roars, Thisbe runs off. Dem. Well roar'd, Lion. Thef. Well run, Thisbe. Hip. Well fhone, Moon. Truly, the Moon thines with a good grace. Thef. Well mouz'd, Lion. Dem. And then came Pyramus. Lyf. And fo the Lion vanish'd. Enter |