Pyramus and Thisbe: or, Love's master-piece. Behold the downfall of two lovers dear, and to their memorys, let fall a tear, a sad mistake their ruine did procure, when as they thought their friendship should endure; oh cruel fate! That cut them off in prime, and for enjoyment, would afford no time. To the tune of, Digby's farewel. 1670-1677? Approx. 7 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B04893 Wing P4317 Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[65] 99887273 ocm99887273 181982

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04893) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 181982) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:4[65]) Pyramus and Thisbe: or, Love's master-piece. Behold the downfall of two lovers dear, and to their memorys, let fall a tear, a sad mistake their ruine did procure, when as they thought their friendship should endure; oh cruel fate! That cut them off in prime, and for enjoyment, would afford no time. To the tune of, Digby's farewel. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for W[illiam]. Thackeray, T[homas]. Passenger, and W[illiam]. Whitwood., London : [between 1670-1677] Verse: "When all hearts did yeild unto Cupid as King ..." Date of publication and publishers' names from Wing. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library.

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 eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2008-09 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
Pyramus and Thisbe: Or, Love's Maſter-piece. Behold the downfall of two Lovers D • ar, And to their Memorys, let fall a Tear, A ſad miſtake their Ruine did procure, When as they thought their FriendſhiP ſhould endure; Oh Cruel Fate! That Cut them off in Pr • me, And for Enjoyment, would afford no time. To the Tune of, Digby's Farewel.

WHen all hearts did yeild unto Cupid as King, And dying for Miſtreſſes was no ſtrang thing, When Maids without coyneſs did candidly deal, And men lov'd with conſtancy, faith, and true Zeal: There liv,d a fair pare of true Lovers in Greece Who have ſtill bin accounted as Lov's maſter-piece. The Youth was call'd Pyramus, Thisbe the Maid: Their Love was immortal, and never decay'd. But alaſs! their affections were croſt by ſad Fate: To wit, by the fewd and immortal debate. That had bin fomented for many years ſpace, Between both their Families, & their whole Race. Which made the fair Cuple, tho ſcorcht wt loves fire, Still ſmother their Flames & conceal their deſire: They ſigh'd ſtill in private, and wept all alone; And dar'd not diſcover a Tear or a Groan. They ſigh'd all the Night, & they gaz'd all the Day: Thus weeping and gazing, and ſighing away Their languſhing Lives, which they ſpent all in Tears, In ſighs, & in groans, & in amorous fears. And when the whole world was composd in a ſleep, Their grief kept them waking to ſigh & to weep. Thus wandring all night, to the ſtars they complain, Of hardſhip, of fate, of their torments, and pain. But when they no longer thoſe pains cou'd endure Their Love did begin for to ſeek out ſome Cure. And ſo they appointed one Night for to meet In ſome neighbouring Vally, and there for to greet: And thence fly away to ſome far diſtant Cave, To love at their leaſure: contented to have The joyes of each other; and there let loves flame Burn quietly out without danger of blame.

And ſo when that P • e •• s had run out his Race, Fair Thisbe came firſt into the meeting place. Impatient ſhe ſtood and expected her Dear; She thought that each moment he ſtaid, was a year. Then under a Mulbery-tree down ſhe lies, But ſcarce was lay down when ſhe preſently ſpies A grim and fierce Lyon beſmea'd all vvith Blood, Came wandring down from ſhe neighbou • ing wood 'Away run the Nimph to a Cave in a Fright. She fly's, & her Mantle is loſt in the flight: Which the bloody Lyon takes up in his Pawes He tears it, & then with the Raggs wipes his jaws. Soon after p • oor Pyramus came for to find. His long vviſht for Thisbe: but fate prov'd unkind. For vvhen divine joys he did hope for to have He found but a vvinding ſheet, death, & cold Grave. For vvhen that he ſaw his loves Mantle all tore. Bedew'd all vvith blood, & beſmear'd all with Goar: And then ſaw the Lyon trot over the plain, He falſly concluded his Thisby vvas ſlain. O vvho can expreſs the vaſt torment and ſmart, The pangs and the anguiſh & grief of his heart? He made the Woods ring vvith his pitiful moanes The Rocks & the Mountains dis Eccho his Groans. Alaſs: (ſaid Pyramus) could ſhe then find No help from the Gods! are they ſo unkind? Or elſe have they ſtole her avvay from our ſight, And ſo Rob d the Earth to make Heaven more bright? O tell me kind Sta • s! come and tell me but vvhere My Th • sbe is gon, and Ile follow my dear. Two death-vvounds already I bear in my breaſt. Once vvounded by Love & by grief novv oppreſſ. Ile vveep out my life, & Ile ſigh out my Soul: Ile groan for my Love till my Carcaſs grows cold. Her Mantle Ile take for my ſad Winding-ſheet, In that mournful poſture my Thisbe Ile meet. But a languiſhing death comes vvith too much delay: Great grief is impatient of ſo long a ſtay. Ile make greater haſt to my Love: at vvhich vvord The Youth ſtab'd himſelf to the hea • t with his Sword. By this time fair Thisbe was came from he Cave So pale that ſher ris like a Ghoſt from its Grave, For when ſhe her Pyramu • dying did ſee, She look'd much more like to a Carcaſs than he. You'd have thought that the Nymph woud before him have dy d She fel on his body • hen mournfully c • y'd O • hy my dear Pyramus • hy ſo unkind; Why • un you avvay and leave Thisbe behind? At Thisbie • ſvveet Name they Youth lifts up his eyes: He looks, & he ſighs, & then ſhuts them & dyes: He gaz'd till he dy'd then content vvith the ſight. Away to Eliziu • his Soul took its flight. And 〈◊〉 did after it preſently flye: She ſtruggled, & ſtrove, and made haſt for to dye. And ſuch haſt ſhe made in •• retaking her dear She ne • e ſtay'd • o complain nor ſca • ce drop a Tear. Her tender, and gentle heart ſoon burſt • ith grief! And Death ſtole away her fa • r Soul like a Thief. Then •• w • • er cold body ſhe lay by her Love. Both pitty'd by all the kind Gods of the G • ove. The amorous • ur • les and Nigh • ingalls • ung Their Obſ • qu • es: & n • a • •••• s their Knell rung. And each loving beaſt of • he wood left his Cave, And came ſo: to make the dead Lovers a Grave,

London Printed for W. Thack • ray, T. Paſſinger, and W. Whitwood.