O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans

Flute, as Thisbe
O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
Bottom, as Pyramus
I see a voice! Now will I to the chink
To spy an I can hear my Thisbe’s face.
Thisbe?

The best in this kind are but shadows, and
the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

Flute, as Thisbe
My love! Thou art my love, I think.
Bottom, as Pyramus
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace,
And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
Flute, as Thisbe
And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
Bottom, as Pyramus
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
Flute, as Thisbe
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
Bottom, as Pyramus
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.
Flute, as Thisbe
I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
Bottom, as Pyramus
Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
Flute, as Thisbe
’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.
 Bottom and Flute exit.
Snout, as Wall
Thus have I, Wall, my part dischargèd so,
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
 He exits.
Theseus
Now is the wall down between the two neighbors.
Demetrius
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so
willful to hear without warning.
Hippolyta
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
Theseus
The best in this kind are but shadows, and
the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Hippolyta
It must be your imagination, then, and not theirs.
Theseus
If we imagine no worse of them than they of
themselves, they may pass for excellent men.