Act 5, Scene 1 (Theseus) 16-32 Flashcards
16.
DEMETRIUS
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard
discourse, my lord.
Enter Pyramus
Shhh! Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
17.
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!
The wall, being sensible, me thinks, should curse again.
18.
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.
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 discharged so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
Exit
Now is the mural down between the two neighbors.
19.
DEMETRIUS
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear
without warning.
HIPPOLYTA
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The best in this kind are but shadows; the worst are no worse if imagination amend them.
20.
HIPPOLYTA
It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
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.
21.
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.
A very gentle beast, of a good conscience.
22.
DEMETRIUS
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.
LYSANDER
This lion is a very fox for his valour.
True; and a goose for his discretion.
23.
DEMETRIUS
Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his
discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
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.
24.
Moonshine
This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;–
DEMETRIUS
He should have worn the horns on his head.
He is no crescent, and his horns are
invisible within the circumference.
25.
Moonshine
This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;
Myself the man i’ the moon do seem to be.
This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man
should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the
man i’ the moon?
26.
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!
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.
27.
LYSANDER
Proceed, Moon.
Moonshine
All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the
lanthorn 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 lanthorn; for all
these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.
Thisbe
This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
Lion
[Roaring] Oh–
DEMETRIUS
Well roared, Lion.
Well run, Thisbe.
28.
HIPPOLYTA
Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a
good grace.
Well moused, Lion.
29.
LYSANDER
And so the lion vanished.
DEMETRIUS
And then came Pyramus.
Enter Pyramus
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 gleams,
I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
But stay, O spite!
But mark, poor knight,
What dreadful dole is here!
Eyes, do you see?
How can it be?
O dainty duck! O dear!
Thy mantle good,
What, stain’d with blood!
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
30.
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:
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.
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.
With the help of a surgeon, he might yet and prove himself an ass.
31.
HIPPOLYTA
How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes
back and finds her lover?
She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and
her passion ends the play.
32.
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.
LYSANDER
She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
DEMETRIUS
And thus she means, videlicet:–
Thisbe
Asleep, my love?
What, dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arise!
Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
Dead, dead? A tomb
Must cover thy sweet eyes.
These My lips,
This cherry nose,
These yellow cowslip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone:
Lovers, make moan:
His eyes were green as leeks.
O Sisters Three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk;
Lay them in gore,
Since you have shore
With shears his thread of silk.
Tongue, not a word:
Come, trusty sword;
Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
Stabs herself
And, farewell, friends;
Thus Thisby ends:
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Moonshine and lion are left to bury the dead.
