The raging rocks And shivering shocks Shall break the locks Of prison gates; And Phibbus’ car Shall shine from far And make and mar The foolish Fates.

This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles’ vein, a tyrant’s vein; a lover is more condoling.

You, Pyramus’ father: myself, Thisby’s father. Snug, the joiner; you, the lion’s part: and, I hope, here is a play fitted.