Satire Project.
Storyboard Text
- O spite! too old to be engaged to young. O hell! to choose love by another´s eyes.
- Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes. O cross! too high to be enthralled to low.
- How now my love? why are your cheeks so pale? Ay me, for aught that I could ever read, Could ever near by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But either it was different in blood -
- Or else misgraffed in respect of years -Or merit stood upon the chocies of friends -
- I love thee not, therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? The one i'll slay, the other slayeth me. Thou told'st me they were stol'n unto this wood; And here am l, and wood within this wood, Because I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
- You draw me, you hardhearted adamant, But yet you draw not iron, for my hear Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you. And even for that do I love you the more
- call you me fair ? that fair again unsay. demetrius loves your fair. 0 happy fair ! your eyes are lodestars, and your touges sweet air more tunable than lark to sheperds ear when wheat is grean, when hawthorns buds apper
- god speed fair Helena! Whither away. i frown upon him yet he loves me still. take comfort. he no more shall see my face; lysander and my self will fly this place.
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