Thisbe, although terrified of the lioness, was stille move afraid to fail her lover. She ventured to go back to the tree of the tryst, the mulberry with shining white fruit. She could not find it. A tree was there but not one gleam of white was on the branches. As she stared at it, something moved on the ground beneath. She started back shuddering. But in a moment, peering though the shadows, she saw what was there. It was Pyramus, bathed in blood and dying,

She saw his sword fallen from his hand and beside it her cloak stained and torn. She understood all. "Your own hand killed you," she said, "and your love for me. I too can be brave I too can love. Only death would have the power to separate us. It shall not have that power now". She plunged into her heart the sword that was still wet with his life's blood.

The gods were pitiful at the end, and the lovers' parents too. The deep red fruit of the mulberry is the everlasting memorial of these lover, and one urn holds the ashes of the two whom not even death could part.