A Midsummer Night’s Dream

certain.
This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content
To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,
Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo.
This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,
The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright;
And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
And finds his trusty Thisby’s mantle slain:
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast;
And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain,
At large discourse, while here they do remain. Exeunt Prologue, Pyramus, Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine. Theseus I wonder if the lion be to speak. Demetrius No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do. Wall

In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall, as I would have you think,
That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
Did whisper often very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show
That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

Theseus Would you desire lime and hair to speak better? Demetrius It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord. Re-enter Pyramus. Theseus Pyramus draws near the wall: silence! 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 Thisby’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 Thisby do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!
Cursed 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 Thisby’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. Re-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 Thisby’s face.
Thisby!

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. Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe. Wall

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

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. Re-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 lantern doth the horned 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 lantern doth the horned 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 in 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!