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 watchéd 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
Perceivéd 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.
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 staunchéd 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,