Anon his Thisbe must be answerèd, And forth my mimic comes. The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented in their sport, Forsook his scene and entered in a brake, When I did him at this advantage take, An ass’s nole I fixèd on his head. Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, Were met together to rehearse a play Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
