A Midsummer Night's Dream
·V i 250 ·
Verse
Bottom Bottom. 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! Hippolyta. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Bottom. 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. |