Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamored of thy note.
O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent to set against me for your merriment.
You are too officious in her behalf that scorns your services. Leave her alone; speak not of Helena.
Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus, of hind 'ring know-grass made; you bead, you acorn.
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep, and this Lysander, this Demetrius is, this Helena, old Nedar's Helena. I wonder off their being here together.
No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May, and, hearing our intent, came here in grace of our solemnity.
Have you sent to Bottom's house? Is he come home yet?
He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hat he lost sixpence a day during his life.
Now, until the break of day, through this house each fairy stray..... Trip away; make no stay; meet me all by break of day.
First, rehearse your song by rote, to each word a warbling not; hand in hand, with fairy grace, will we sing, and bless this place.
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