'A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.' Merry and tragical! tedious and brief!
I will hear that play; For never anything can be amiss,
This man is Pyramus, if you would know; This beauteous lady Thisby is certain. 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: His dagger drew, and died.
Now, until the break of day, Through this house each fairy stray. To the best bride-bed will we, Which by us shall blessed be
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, No more yielding but a dream, So, good night unto you all.