The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse 180 again.
Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. ‘Deceiving me’ [183] is Thisby’s cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her [184] through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told 185 you. Yonder she comes.
Enter Thisbe.
This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me!
My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,
[189] Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
[190] Pyr. I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
[191] To spy an I can hear my Thisby’s face.
Thisby!