THISBE.
Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
I’ll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny’s tomb.
QUINCE.
Ninus’ tomb, man! Why, you must not speak that yet. That you answer to Pyramus. You speak all your part at once, cues, and all.—Pyramus enter! Your cue is past; it is ‘never tire.’
THISBE.
O, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
Enter Puck and Bottom with an ass’s head.
PYRAMUS.
If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine.
QUINCE.
O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray, masters, fly, masters! Help!
[Exeunt Clowns.]
PUCK.
I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round,
Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier;
Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
[Exit.]
BOTTOM.
Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me afeard.