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Lys, How now, my love? Why is your check so pale ? How chance thc roscs thcrc do rade so fast?

Iler. Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of minc cycs.

Lys. Ah me! for aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smootli :
Or if there were a syınpathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it;
Making it momentary as a sound,
Swist as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a splccn, unfolds both licaven and carth,
And erc a man hath power to say,-Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

Hor. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
It stands as an edict in destiny :
Then Ict us tcach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross ;
As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighis,
Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.

Lys. A good persuasion ; therefore, hear me, Hermia.
I have a widow aunt, a dowager
Of great revénue, and she hath no child ;
From Athens is her house remote seven leagues ;
And she respects me as her only son.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thec,
And to that place the sharp Athcnian law
Cannot pursue us.

If thou lov'st me then,
Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;
And in the wood, a league without the town,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
To do observance to a morn of May,
There will I stay for thce.

My good Lysander !
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow;
By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves ;

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By all the vows that cvcr mich have broke,
In number more than cver women spoke ;-
In that sanc place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I mect with thec.

Lys. Kccp promise, lovc. Look, here comes Helena.

Helena enters as if looking for them. They previously go

aside. As HELENA secs then she starts with a pang, and HERMIA advances smilingly:

Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away?

Hil. Call you me fair ? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves you fair: O happy fair !
Your cycs arc lodc-stars; and your tonguc's sweet air,
More tuncabic than lark to shepherd's ear,
When whcat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching ; 0, were favour so,
Your words I'd catch, fair Hermia, cre I go,
My car should catch your voice, my cye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody,
Were the world minc, it would I give
To be to you transformed.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.
Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.

[Coqucttishly. Hel. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love.

[Turns from LYSANDER, pettishly, and crosses. Hel. O that my prayers could such affection move! Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Hel. The more Llove, the more he hatcth me. Hlcr. His solly, Helena, is no fault of mine.

[LYSANDER knocls at her fcct and kisses her hand, Hel. None, but your beauty ; would that fault were mine!

[Throws herself or scat and buries her hicad in her hands.

Her. Take comfort, he no more shall see my face ; Lysander and myself will fly this place.

Bcforc the time I did Lysander sce,
Scom'd Athens like a paradise to me:
O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
(A time that lovers' nights doth still conceal,)
Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal.

ller. And in the wood, whicre often you and I
Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lic,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
There my Lysander and myself shall mect :
And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes,
To seck new friends and stranger companies.
Farcwell, sweet playfellow, pray thou for us,
And good luck grant theo thy Demetrius -
Keep word, Lysander : we must starve our sight
From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight.

[Exit HERMIA, R.; the music of lyrcs is heard outside. Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu : As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! [Exit LYSANDER, L.

Hel. How happy some o'er other-somc can bc ! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so ; He will not know what all but he do know. (Sinks on seat, C. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste, Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste; And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. And ere Demetrius look'd on Hcrmia's eyne, He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine; And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt So he dissolved and showers of oaths did melt.

[Suddenly rises.

I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
Then to the wood will hc to-morrow night
Pursuc her; and for this intelligence.
If I havc thanks, it is a dcar expense :
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight, thither and back again.






QUINCE enters from the R., meeting SNUG, who enters from the L., followed at first by Snout and STARVELING, and afterward by FLUTE and BOTTOM.

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Quin. Is all our company here?

Snug. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.

Quir. Here is the scroll of cvery man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his wedding-day at night.

Star. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is—The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.

Snug. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors, by the scroll: Masters, spread yourselves.

[They range themselves in a semicircle about QUINCE,

who is c. Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the weaver.

[BOTTOM enters from L., in a hurry. Bot. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin, You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus ? a lover, or a tyrant ? Quin. A lover that kills himself most gallant for love.

Bot. That will ask some tears in the truc performing of it. If I do it, let the audiencc look to their eyes; I will move storms ; I will condole in some measure. Yet, my chief humor is for a

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