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Section 528
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Pir.
O grim lookt night, ô night with hue so blacke,
O night, which euer art, when day is not:
O night, ô night, alacke, alacke, alacke,
I feare my Thisbies promise is forgot.
And thou ô vvall, thou sweet and louely vvall,
That stands between her fathers ground and mine,
Thou vvall, ô vvall, ô sweet and louely vvall,
Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through vvith mine eine.
Thankes courteous vvall. Ioue shield thee vvell for this.
But vvhat see I? No Thisbie doe I see.
O vvicked vvall, through vvhom I see no blisse,
Curst be thy stones for thus deceiuing mee.