Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this
thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my dog
Dem. Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for
they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes Thisby.
Enter Thisby.
This. This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue?
Lyon. Oh.
The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.