And yet thou shalt not find us churls: we think ourselves in debt
For the same piece of courtesy, in vouching safe[2] to let
Our sayings to our friendly ears thus freely come and go.
Thus having where they stood in vain complained of their woe,
When night drew near they bade adieu, and each gave kisses sweet
Unto the parget[3] on their side the which did never meet.
Next morning with her cheerful light had driven the stars aside,
And Phoebus with his burning beams the dewy grass had dried,
These lovers at their wonted place by fore-appointment met,
Where after much complaint and moan they covenanted to get
Away from such as watched them, and in the evening late
To steal out of their fathers' house and eke the city gate.
And to th' intent that in the fields they strayed not up and down,
They did agree at Ninus' tomb to meet without the town,
And tarry underneath a tree that by the same did grow;
Which was a fair high mulberry with fruit as white as snow,
Hard by a cool and trickling spring. This bargain pleased them both,
And so daylight (which to their thought away but slowly go'th)
Did in the Ocean fall to rest, and night from thence doth rise.
As soon as darkness once was come, straight Thisbe did devise
A shift to wind her out of doors, that none that were within
Perceived her; and muffling her with clothes about her chin,
That no man might discern her face, to Ninus' tomb she came
Unto the tree, and set her down there underneath the same.
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