Love made her bold. But see the chance, there comes besmeared with blood
About the chaps, a lioness all foaming from the wood,
From slaughter lately made of kine to staunch her bloody thirst
With water of the foresaid spring. Whom Thisbe, spying first
Afar by moonlight, thereupon with fearful steps gan fly
And in a dark and irksome cave did hide herself thereby.
And as she fled away for haste she let her mantle fall,
The which for fear she left behind not looking back at all.
Now when the cruel lioness her thirst had staunched well,
In going to the wood she found the slender weed that fell
From Thisbe, which with bloody teeth in pieces she did tear.
The night was somewhat further spent ere Pyramus came there.
Who seeing in this subtle sand the print of lion's paw,
Waxed pale for fear. But when that he the bloody mantle saw
All rent and torn; one night (he said) shall lovers two confound,
Of which long life deserved she of all that live on ground.
My soul deserves of this mischance the peril for to bear.
I, wretch, have been the death of thee, which to this place of fear
Did cause thee in the night to come, and came not here before.
My wicked limbs and wretched guts with cruel teeth therefore
Devour ye, O ye lions all that in this rock do dwell.
But cowards use to wish for death.
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