Duk. If wee imagine no worse of them then they of themselues, they may passe for excellent men. Here com two noble beasts, in a man and a Lion. Enter Lyon and Moone-shine Lyon. You Ladies, you (whose gentle harts do feare The smallest monstrous mouse that creepes on floore) May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere, When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roare. Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am A Lion fell, nor else no Lions dam: For if I should as Lion come in strife Into this place, 'twere pittie of my life Du. A verie gentle beast, and of good conscience Dem. The verie best at a beast, my Lord, y ere I saw Lis. This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor Du. True, and a Goose for his discretion Dem. Not so my Lord: for his valor cannot carrie his discretion, and the fox carries the Goose Du. His discretion I am sure cannot carrie his valor: for the Goose carries not the Fox. It is well; leaue it to his discretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone Moone. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone present De. He should haue worne the hornes on his head Du. Hee is no crescent, and his hornes are inuisible, within the circumference Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moone present: My selfe, the man i'th Moone doth seeme to be Du. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man Should be put into the Lanthorne. How is it els the man i'th Moone? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle. For you see, it is already in snuffe Dut. I am wearie of this Moone; would he would change Du. It appeares by his smal light of discretion, that he is in the wane: but yet in courtesie, in all reason, we must stay the time Lys. Proceed Moone Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my dog Dem. Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes Thisby. Enter Thisby. This. This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue? Lyon. Oh. The Lion roares, Thisby runs off. Dem. Well roar'd Lion Du. Well run Thisby Dut. Well shone Moone. Truly the Moone shines with a good grace Du. Wel mouz'd Lion Dem. And then came Piramus Lys. And so the Lion vanisht. Enter Piramus. Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy sunny beames, I thanke thee Moone, for shining now so bright: For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames, I trust to taste of truest Thisbies sight. But stay: O spight! but marke, poore Knight, What dreadful dole is heere? Eyes do you see! How can it be! O dainty Ducke: O Deere! Thy mantle good; what staind with blood! Approch you furies fell: O Fates! come, come: Cut thred and thrum, Quaile, crush, conclude, and quell Du. This passion, and the death of a deare friend, Would go neere to make a man looke sad Dut. Beshrew my heart, but I pittie the man