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 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:
Stabs himself
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:
Exit Moonshine
Now die, die, die, die, die.
Dies
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. Here she comes; and
her passion ends the play.
Re-enter Thisbe
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.