[193] This. My love thou art, my love I think.
Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace;
[195] And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
[196] This. And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
Pyr. O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
200 This. I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
[202] This. ‘Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay. [Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe.