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 “No 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." The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw. Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goose for his discretion. Dem. Not so, my lord: for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. The. 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. Moon. "This lantern doth the horned moon present:" Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head. The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. 66 Moon. "This lantern doth the horned moon present: Myself the man i'the'moon do seem to be." The. 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? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff 19. 19 An equivoque. Snuff signifies both the einder of a candle and hasty anger. Hip. I am a weary of this moon: Would he would change! The. 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. Lys. Proceed, moon. Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you, that the lantern is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn bush, my thorn bush; and this dog my dog. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for they are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisbe. Enter THISBE. This. "This is old Ninny's tomb: Where is my love?" Lion. "Oh-." [The Lion roars.—THISBE runs off. Dem. Well roared, lion. The. Well run, Thisbe. Hip. Well shone, moon.-Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. The. Well moused 20, lion. [The Lion tears THISBE's Mantle, and exit. Dem. And so comes Pyramus. Lys. And then the moon vanishes. Pyr. Enter 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 streams, "I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. 20 To mouse, according to Malone, signified to mammock, to tear in pieces, as a cat tears a mouse. "Quail, crush, conclude, and quel! 23 !" The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. "O, wherefore, nature, didst thou lions frame? "Since lion vile hath here deflour'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 24. 66 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. 21 Dr. Farmer thought this was written in ridicule of a passage in Damon and Pythias, by Richard Edwards, 1582: Ye furies, all at once On me your torments tire. Gripe me, you greedy griefs And present pangues of death; 22 Thrum is the end or extremity of a weaver's warp. It is used for any collection or tuft of short thread. 23 Destroy. 24 Countenance. 66 "Now am I dead, My soul is in the sky: "Tongue, lose thy light! "Now die, die, die, die, die." [Dies.-Exit Moonshine. Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover, and prove an ass 25. Hip. How chance moonshine is gone, before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? The. She will find him by star-light.-Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. Enter THISBE. Hip. Methinks, she should not use a long one, for such a Pyramus: I hope, she will be brief. Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better. Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes. 26, videlicet. Dem. And thus she moans 66 What, dead, my dove? 25 The character of Theseus throughout this play is more exalted in its humanity than in its greatness. Though some sensible observations on life and animated descriptions fall from him, as it is said of Iago, 'You shall taste him more as a soldier than as a wit;' which is a distinction he is here striving to deserve, though with little success; as in support of his pretensions he never rises higher than a pun, and frequently sinks as low as a quibble. 26 The old copies read means, which had anciently the same signification as moans. Theobald made the alteration. "O Pyramus, arise, "Speak, speak. Quite dumb? "Must cover thy sweet eyes. "These lily brows 27, "This cherry nose, "These yellow cowslip cheeks, "Are gone, are gone: 66 Lovers, make moan! "His eyes were green as leeks. "O sisters three, Lay them in gore, "With shears his thread of silk. 66 Tongue, not a word: "Come, trusty sword; "Come, blade, my breast imbrue : "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 Burgomask dance 28, between two of our company? The. No epilogue, I pray you: for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the 27 The old copies read lips instead of brows. The alteration was made for the sake of the rhyme by Theobald. 28 A rustic dance framed in imitation of the people of Bergamasco (a province in the state of Venice), who are ridiculed as being more clownish in their manners and dialect than any other people of Italy. The lingua rustica of the buffoons, in the old Italian comedies, is an imitation of their jargon. |