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Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better.
Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes. Dem. And thus she moans, videlicet
This. • Asleep, my love?
Dead, dead? A tomb
• These lily brows,
• This cherry nose,
• Are gone, are gone:
• Lovers, make moan!
O sisters three,
• Come, come, to me,
• Lay them in gore,
"Since you haye shore
• Tongue, not a word:
• Come, trusty sword;
* And farewell, friends;
* Thus, Thisby ends: • Adieu, adieu, adieu.!
(Dies. The. Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead.
Dem. Ay, and wall too.
Bot. 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?
Thę. 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 play'd Pyramụs, 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 out-sleep 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 fortpight hold we this solemnity, la nightly revels, and new jollity. (Exeunt.
All with heavy plousl the moon
Puck. Now the hungry lion roars,
All with weary task fordonet,
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,
In remembrance of a shroud.
That the graves, all gaping wide,
In the church-way paths to glide:
By the triple Hecat's team,
Following darkness like a dream,
Enter Oberon and Titania, with their Train.
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Hop as light as bird from brier;
Tita. First rehearse this song by rote:
SONG AND DANCE,
Make no stay;
(Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and Train.
Puck. If we shadows have offended,
Think but this (and all is mended),
Wild and fantastical as this play is, all the parts in their various modes are well written, and give the kind of pleasure which the author designed. Fairies in his time were much in fasbion; common tradition had made them familiar, and Spencer's poem had made them great.