Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Du. Well run Thisby.
Dut. Dut.
Dut. Well shone Moone.
Dut. Truly the Moone shines with a good grace.
Du. Du.
Du. Wel mouz'd Lion.
Dem. Dem.
Dem. And then came Piramus.
Lys. Lys.
Lys. And so the Lion vanisht.
Lys. Enter Piramus.
Pyr. Pyr.
Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy sunny beames,
Pyr. I thanke thee Moone, for shining now so bright:
Pyr. For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames,
Pyr. I trust to taste of truest Thisbies sight.
Pyr. But stay: O spight! but marke, poore Knight,
Pyr. What dreadful dole is heere?
Pyr. Eyes do you see! How can it be!
Pyr. O dainty Ducke: O Deere!