170 O night, O night! alack, alack, alack,
I fear my Thisby’s promise is forgot!
[172] And them, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
[173] That stand’st between her father’s ground and mine!
Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
[175] Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne! [Wall holds up his fingers.
Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!
But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!
Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!