sc. i
A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT’S DREAM
119
Theseus.
Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
Demetrius.
It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
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.
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!
