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Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia ;—And, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right.
Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius;
Let me have Hermia’s : do you marry him.
Ege. Scornful Lysander ! true he hath my love;
And what is mine my love shall render him;
And she is mine; and all my right of her
i do estate unto Demetrius.
Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his ;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank’d,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius;
Ana, which is more than all these boasts can be,
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia :
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Neda's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
The. I must confess, that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof.
But, being over-full with self-affairs,
My mind did lose it.—But, Demetrius, come;
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,
I have some private schooling for you both.-
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To fit your fancies to your father's will;
Or else the law of Athens ġields you up
(Which by no means we may extenuate,)
To death, or to a vow of single life.-
Come, my Hippolyta ; What cheer, my love?
Demetrius, and Egeus, go along :
I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptial; and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
Ege. With duty, and desire, we follow you.
[Exeunt Thes. Hip. EGE. DEM. and train Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale ? How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Her. Belike for want of rain ; which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.
Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth:
But either it was different in blood,
Or else misgrafted, in respect of years :
Or elsa et stood upon the choice of friends :
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it;
Making it momentary as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied* night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say,—Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.
Her. If then true lovers have been ever crossid,
It stands as an edict in destiny:
Then let us teach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross;
As due to love, as thoughts and dreams, and sighs,
Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia.
I have a widow aunt, a dowager
Of great revenue, 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 thee;
And to that place the sharp Athenian 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 thee.
My good Lysander!
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ;
By his best arrow with the golden head;
By the simplicity of Venus' doves;
By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever woman spoke ;-
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes Helena
Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away ?
Hel. Call you me fair ? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves you fair: O happy fair !
Your eyes are load-stars; and your tongue's sweet air.
More tunable than lark in shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching ; 0, were favor so!
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
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.
Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
Hel. O, that my prayers could such affection move!
Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.
Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
Hel. None, but your beauty; 'Would that fault were mine!
Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face;
Lysander and myself will fly this place.-
Before the time I did Lysander see,
Seem'd Athens like a paradise to me:
O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn’d a heaven unto hell!
Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold :
To-morrow night when Phæbe doth behold
Her silver visage in the wat’ry glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
(A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,)
Through Athens' gates have we devis’d to steal.
Her. And in the wood, where often you and I
Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet;
There my Lysander and myself shall meet :
And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes,
To seek new friends and stranger companies.
Farewell, sweet playfellow; pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius ! -
Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight.
[Exit HERM Lys. I will
, my Hermia.—Helena, adieu : As you on him, Demetrius dote on you !
[Exit Lys Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be Through Athens I am thuught as fair as she, But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; He will not know what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
SCENE I. - A Wood near Athens.
Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck at another
Puck. How now, spirit! whither wander you?
Fai. Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander every where,
Swifter than the moones sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors,
In those freckles live their savors :
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Farewell, thou lobt of spirits, I'll be gone :
Our queen and all her elves come here anon.
Puck. The king doth keep his revels here to-nights
Take heed, the queen come not within his sight.
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy stoln from an Indian king;
She never had so weet a changeling :
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild :
† A term of contempt
But she, perforce, withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy:
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear or spangled star-light sheen,*
But they do square ; that all their elves, for fear,
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.
Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quito
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite,
Calld Robin Good-fellow : are you not he,
That fright the maidens of the villagery;
Skim milk; and sometimes labor in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm ;
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck
Are not you he ?
Thou speak’st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a silly foal :
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
very likeness of a roasted crab;t
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I under her, down topples she,
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe ;
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.
Fai. And here my mistress :—Would that he were gone!
Enter OBERON, at one door with his train, and TITANIA, at another
Obe. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania.
Tita. What, jealous Oberon ? Fairy, skip hence.
Obe. Tarry, rash wanton.
Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or on the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport.
| Wild applos.