fore he rag'd, and ragingly exclaimed,
That he true loue, and true loue him had maimed.

26

And then his Rapier vp againe he tooke,
Then on the mantle cast a grieuous looke.
For me (quoth he) faire _Thisbe_ lost this bloud,
She dead, my life would doe me little good,
And well he thought he could endure the smart
Of death, and yet he could not harme his heart:
For why his hand being guiltlesse of the deed,
Deny'd to make his harmelesse heart to bleed,
And like a trembling executioner,
Constrain'd to slay a guiltelesse prisoner,
His hand retired still, further backe and further,
As lothing to enact so vile a murther.

27

But _Pyramus_ like to a raging Iudge,
Seeing his executioner flinch, and grudge
To do the duty he enioyn'd him do,
Reply'd, dispatch, or Ile cut thee off too:
At which the trembling hand tooke vp the blade,
But when the second profer it had made,
It threw it downe, and boldly thus replyed,
He was not cause that louely _Thisbe_ dyed,
Nor would I slay thee, knew I she were dead:
Then be the bloud vpon thy guiltie head.
Of these last words young _Pyramus_ dispences,
And cald a synodie of all his seuer'd sences.

28

His conscience told him, he deserv'd not death,
For he deprav'd not _Thisbe_ of her breath:
But then suspicion thought, he causd her dye,
But conscience swore, suspition told a lye.
At this suspicion prompted loue in th'eare,
And bad him shew his verdict, and come neare,
Which soone he did, and fate among the rest,
As one whom _Pyramus_ esteemed best:
For when proud Loue gaue in his faultie plea,
He askt if he were guiltie, Loue said yea,
And with the youth, fond youth by loue entangled,
Agreed his guiltlesse body should be mangled.

29

Resolv'd to die, he sought the pointed blade,
Which erst his hand had cast into the shade,
And see, proud Chance, fell Murthers chiefest frend,
Had pitcht the blade right vpwards on the end,
Which being loth from murther to depart,
Stood on the hilt, point-blanke against his hart:
At which he smil'd, and checkt his fearefull hand,
That stubbornely resisted his command.
And though (quoth he) thou scorn'd to doe my will,
What lets me now my minde for to fulfill?
Both Fate and Fortune to my death are willing,
And be thou witnesse of my minds fulfilling.