PYRAMAUS AND THISBE

There lived in Babylon during the reign of Semiramis, two young people whose houses on one side of the wall with his parents, was seventeen years old, tall, strong and athletic. Thisbe, who lived on the other side of the wall with her parents, was three years younger, gentle and very beautiful. Not surprisingly, growing up close to one another, the two of them fell in love. The only trouble was that the two sets of parents could not stand one another.

The reason has never been set on record and in truth it doesn't really matter, for it often happens that neighbours will dislike each other simply because they are neighbours. Perhaps the parents of Thisbe thought their neighbours surly and snobbish. Perhaps the parents of Pyramus thought their neighbours vulgar and churlish. At any rate, they never spoke. If they met in the street they would stride off in opposite directions (even if it meant going out of their way). They never mentioned one another in conversation unless it was to complain. And of course they forbade Pyramus to have anything to do with Thisbe and Thisbe to have anything to do with Pyramus.

Both Pyramus and Thisbe tried to reason with them but, parents being what they are, this proved impossible. In fact they might never have been able to talk to one another had they not discovered a crack in the wall, down at the bottom of the garden , It was not a large crack. If Thisbe squeezed her hand into it, she could just brush the fingertips of Pyramus on the other side, When Pyramus knelt down and looked through it, he could just make out Thisbe's eye gazing back at him on the other side. But at least they could talk through it and every evening they would slip away from the dinner table to swap messages in the cool air.

But there came a time when Pyramus could bear this separation no longer. Kneeling in the moist grass either his face pressed against the cold stone wall, he sighed so loudly that Thisbe heard him on the other side.

"What is it, my love?" she exclaimed. "You sound so sad."

"This is ridiculous," Pyramus replied. "Why should we be forced to endure this simply because our parents are so stupid?"

"At least we can talk to each other," Thisbe said.

"Yes, but it isn't enough, I am seventeen years old - no longer a child. I want to hold you in my arms, close to me. I want to."

"My parents wouldn't allow it!" Thisbe interrupted. "They call you 'that awful boy next door'; I'm not even allowed to mention your name. They have nothing pleasant to say about you."

"I know that, but ." Even as Pyramus spoke, the idea came to him. "Why shouldn't we meet? Not here, but outside the city. Surely we can slip out for one night together?"

"Where?" Thisbe asked, her voice trembling.

"The tomb of Ninus, you must know it. There is a temple there, near a stream - just outside the cities boundaries."

"I know it," Thisbe whispered. "But a tomb .!"

"This is no time to be superstitious," Pyramus cried. "We'll meet there tomorrow night, after supper. There is a mulberry tree near the stream. You can't miss it, we'll meet beneath the tree, Oh Thisbe, my love! For just one night we will be able to hold each other and speak without fear of being overheard."

"I'll be there! Thisbe exclaimed. "Wait for me there, Pyramus, I will come to you."

And sure enough, the following night, Thisbe wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and slipped away from her parent's house, making her way through the city to the tomb of Ninus. She went with not a little trepidation, for she would have preferred to meet anywhere other than at a tomb. It was a quite and secluded spot, well suited to their secret affair, but somehow it seemed like a bad omen. She was going to a place of death. Would death be awaiting her when she got there?

She crossed an ancient copes on the outskirts of the city, her feet making no sound on the thick carpet of moss the moon was full that night, its ivory beams breaking through the branches and casting a thousand leafy shadows on the ground below. Now she could hear the gurgle of a stream and hurrying forward she saw two marble columns rising smooth and graceful out of the grass on the edge of a clearing. It was the tomb of Ninus, and there was the mulberry tree, its fruit as white as snow in the moonlight. But there was no sign of Pyramus. She stopped in front of the entrance to the tomb, a great iron ring hanging just above her head on the wooded door. Still nobody came, a cloud shaped like a pointed finger slid in front of the moon. A gust of wind tussled her hair.

Then she heard a sound, a soft, menacing growl. It came from the wood. Stepping back, she crouched in the shadow of the tomb as a great animal padded silently out from amongst the tress. It was a lioness and it had recently killed for the blood was still fresh on its muzzle.

"Oh Pyramus, Pyramus!" Thisbe moaned to herself. She could hardly move, paralyzed with fear.

The lioness heard her. Its head twisted towards her. Thisbe's hand reached out and tugged at the iron ring set in the door of the tomb. The door creaked open. Then, her eyes never leaving the lioness, she stepped backwards into the blackness of the tomb, slaming the door shut a moment later.

The animal had no intention of harming Thisbe, although she was not to know that.It had eaten already but, hearing the noise, it stalked across the clearing to investigate. Thisbe was out of its sight but as she had reached for the iron ring her shawl had slipped off her shoulders and this the lioness found. As much out of curiosity as anger, it raked at the shawl with its claws, tearing it. A few drops of blood dripped off its mouth, staining it. Then, forgetting all about Thisbe, it re-crossed the clearing and went to the stream to drink.

Meanwhile, Pyramus had been delayed at the supper table by his parents. Although he had asked to be excused several times, they both had a bad day and were taking it out on him. Complaining about his appearance, his lack of ambition, his poor results at school - Just about anything they could think of. At last they dismissed him and he was able to steal from a house, make his way through the city and race out to the tomb of Ninus. He didn't stop running until he saw the mulberry tree. At the same moment, he saw the lioness.

The animal, having eaten and drunk, was fast asleep. Lying in the moonlight, you could almost have mistaken it for a statue but for the rise and fall of its stomach and the gleam of blood around its mouth. Pyramus saw the blood. A second later he saw Thisbe's shawl, torn and blood - stained on the grass. He looked back at the lioness. Obviously it had recently feasted. There was no sign of Thisbe. Pyramus raised his head to the sky and wailed.

His parents had denied him love's joy. Now they were unable to spare him love's pain. He felt as if an ice-cold dagger had been plunged into his heart. The life drained out of him - or if not the life then the need to live. It was as if he were suddenly seeing the world in black and white and knew that he would never again understand or experience colour. He had loved Thisbe as much as any man can love any women and her death made no sense of his life. Worse still, he was to blame. If he had arrived sooner, if he had gotten there first, then armed with his sword he would have been able to .

His sword. He took it from his waist and holding it in both hands, thrust it into his side. He fell back on the grass beneath the mulberry tree. There was no pain but his blood burst out in a fountain, spraying the mulberry fruit. At the same time, a pool of blood formed around him, sinking into the earth and soaking the roots of the tree.

It was then that Thisbe came out of the tomb. She had waited there as long as she could but at last the inky blackness and the damp smell of the grave had driven her out. Slowly she stepped back into the moonlight, searching for the lioness. She frowned, the mulberry tree was still there, but know the fruit was not white but red. What had happen? Pyramus groaned. Thisbe cried out and forgetting the lioness ran to him.

Pyramus was dying, but still was not quite dead. As Thisbe threw herself down beside him in tears streaming down her cheeks, his eyes widened in surprise and he turned to speak. But the words faded on his lips.

"Pyramus!" Thisbe wept, "What happen? Tell me! How can this have happened?"

With a trembling hand, Pyramus pointed to the torn shawl. He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. Even now he smiled, feeling her soft flesh without the wall between them. Then his eyes closed and at that moment he died.

Thisbe understood what had happened.

"You killed yourself!" she whispered, the tears falling faster.

"You thought me dead and died rather than live without me. But death will separate us."

She reached out and grasped the sword, turning it towards her breast. Then she looked up for the last time. Overhead, the stars were sparkling in the night sky.

"I ask the gods only this!" she cried, "The mulberry tree is stained with my love's blood. May it stay that color to remind the world of what happened here."

She threw herself onto the sword.

When their parents discovered the two bodies, they had them cremated and then collected the ashes and mixed them together in a single urn. The gods, too, were moved to pity, for to this day the fruit of the mulberry tree is not white but dark purple, and so it will always be.



~*~

Hopefully you enjoyed this Story


This story is a Babylonian legend and should never be forgotten no matter who's in control of life!

    By Tiffany Reno