[139] The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
140 Did scare away, or rather did affright;
[141] And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
[144] And finds his trusty Thisby’s mantle slain:
145 Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast;
[147] And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,