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- Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hourDraws on apace. Four happy days bring inAnother moon. But oh, methinks how slowThis old moon wanes! She lingers my desires,Like to a stepdame or a dowagerLong withering out a young man’s revenue.
- Go, Philostrate,Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments.Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth.Turn melancholy forth to funerals.The pale companion is not for our pomp.
- Four days will quickly steep themselves in night.Four nights will quickly dream away the time.And then the moon, like to a silver bowNew bent in heaven, shall behold the nightOf our solemnities.
- Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats—messengersOf strong prevailment in unhardened youth.With cunning hast thou filched my daughter’s heart,Turned her obedience (which is due to me)To stubborn harshness.—And, my gracious duke,Be it so she will not here before your graceConsent to marry with Demetrius,I beg the ancient privilege of Athens.As she is mine, I may dispose of her—Which shall be either to this gentlemanOr to her death—according to our lawImmediately provided in that case.
- Full of vexation come I with complaintAgainst my child, my daughter Hermia.—Stand forth, Demetrius.—My noble lord,This man hath my consent to marry her.—Stand forth, Lysander.—And my gracious duke,This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child.—Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,And interchanged love tokens with my child.Thou hast by moonlight at her window sungWith feigning voice verses of feigning love,And stol'n the impression of her fantasyWith bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits,
- Thanks, good Egeus. What’s the news with thee?
- In himself he is.But in this kind, wanting your father’s voice,The other must be held the worthier.
- I do entreat your grace to pardon me.I know not by what power I am made boldNor how it may concern my modestyIn such a presence here to plead my thoughts,But I beseech your grace that I may knowThe worst that may befall me in this case,If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
- So is Lysander.
- Either to die the death or to abjureForever the society of men.Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires.Know of your youth. Examine well your blood—Whether, if you yield not to your father’s choice,You can endure the livery of a nun,For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,To live a barren sister all your life,Chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitless moon.Thrice-blessèd they that master so their bloodTo undergo such maiden pilgrimage.But earthlier happy is the rose distilledThan that which, withering on the virgin thorn,Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
- Take time to pause, and by the next new moon—The sealing day betwixt my love and meFor everlasting bond of fellowship—Upon that day either prepare to dieFor disobedience to your father’s will,Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would,Or on Diana’s altar to protestFor aye austerity and single life.
- So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,Ere I will my virgin patent upUnto his lordship, whose unwishèd yokeMy soul consents not to give sovereignty.
- Relent, sweet Hermia—And, Lysander, yieldThy crazèd title to my certain right.
- You have her father’s love, Demetrius.Let me have Hermia’s. Do you marry him.
- With duty and desire we follow you.
- I must confess that I have heard so muchAnd with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof,But being overfull of 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 yourselfTo fit your fancies to your father’s will,Or else the law of Athens yields 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 businessAgainst our nuptial and confer with youOf something nearly that concerns yourselves.
- I am, my lord, as well derived as he,As well possessed. My love is more than his.My fortunes every way as fairly ranked,(If not with vantage) as Demetrius'.And—which is more than all these boasts can be—I am beloved of beauteous Hermia.Why should not I then prosecute my right?Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head,Made love to Nedar’s daughter, Helena,And won her soul. And she, sweet lady, dotes,Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatryUpon this spotted and inconstant man.
- 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,And by that fire which burned the Carthage queenWhen the false Troyan under sail was seen,By all the vows that ever men have broke(In number more than ever women spoke),In that same place thou hast appointed me,Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.
- If then true lovers have been ever crossed,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.
- Belike for want of rain, which I could wellBeteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
- 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.
- O spite! Too old to be engaged to young.
- O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low.
- A good persuasion. Therefore, hear me, Hermia.I have a widow aunt, a dowagerOf 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 lawCannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,Steal forth thy father’s house tomorrow night.And in the wood, a league without the town—
- Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—
- Ay me! For aught that I could ever 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 misgraffèd in respect of years—
- How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale?How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
- 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 sightFrom lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.of strangers. Goodbye, old friend. Pray for us,and I hope you win over Demetrius!—Keep yourpromise, Lysander. .
- Helen, to you our minds we will unfold.Tomorrow night when Phoebe doth beholdHer silver visage in the watery glass,Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass(A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal),Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.
- Take comfort. He no more shall see my face.Lysander and myself will fly this place.Before the time I did Lysander seeSeemed Athens as a paradise to me.Oh, then, what graces in my love do dwell,That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell!
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