Theseus.
Now, fair Hippolita, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon: but, oh, methinks, how slow
This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame, or a dowager,
Long withering out a young man's revenue.^{1 note}

Hip.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time:
And then the moon like to a silver bow,
Never bent in heaven, shall behold the night

Of our solemnities.

The.
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. [Exit Phi.
Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my sword;
And won thy love, doing thee injuries:
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling. Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.

Ege.
Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke:

The.
Thanks, good Egeus; what's the news with thee?

Ege.
Full of vexation, come I with complaint
Against 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 * ^notewitch'd the bosom of my child:
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast giv'n her rhimes,
And interchang'd love tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moon-light at her window sung,
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
And stol'n th' impression of her fantasie,
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweet-meats; messengers
Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth:
With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart,
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness: And, my gracious Duke,
Be't so, she will not here before your Grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius;
I beg the antient privilege of Athens,
As she is mine, I may dispose of her:

Which shall be either to this gentleman,
Or to her death, according to our law,^{2 note}
Immediately provided in that case.

The.
What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid.
To you your father should be as a God,^{3 note}

Her.
So is Lysander.

The.
In himself he is;
But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
The other must be held the worthier.

Her.
I would, my father look'd but with my eyes.

The.
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.

Her.
I do intreat your Grace to pardon me:
I know not, by what pow'r I am made bold;
Nor how it may concern my modesty,
In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts:
But, I beseech your Grace, that I may know
The worst that may befal me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

The.
Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever 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 mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitless, moon?
Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage!
But earthlier happy is the role distill'd,^{3 note}
Than that, which withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives and dies, in single blessedness.

Her.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship,* ^note to whose unwish'd yoak
My soul consents not to give Sov'reignty.

The.
Take time to pause: and by the next new moon,
The sealing day betwixt my love and me,
For everlasting bond of fellowship,
Upon that day either prepare to die,
For disobedience to your father's will;
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
Or on Diana's altar to protest,
For aye, austerity and single life.

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 possest: my love is more than his:
My fortune's every way as fairly rank'd,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius's:
And, 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 Nedar's daughter, Helena;
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, doats,
Devoutly doats, doats in Idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

The.
I must confess, that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought t'have spoke thereof;
But, being over-full 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 yourself
To 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 Hippolita; what chear, my love?—
—Demetrius, and Egeus, go along;
I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptials, and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

Ege.
With duty and desire we follow you. [Exeunt.

Manent Lysander and Hermia.

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
^{4 note}Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.

Lys.
* ^note

Her.
O cross!—too high to be enthrall'd to low!—^{5 note}

Lys.
Or else misgraffed, in respect of years—

Her.
O spight! too old, to be engag'd to young!

Lys.
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—

Her.
O hell! to chuse love by another's eye!

Lys.
Or if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it;
Making it † ^notemomentary as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,

Brief as the lightning in the collied night,^{6 note}



That (in a spleen) unfolds both heav'n 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 crost,
It stands as an edict in destiny:
Then, let us teach our tryal 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 remov'd seven leagues,^{7 note}






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 the morn of May,
There will I stay for thee,

Her.
My good Lysander,
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,^{8 note}

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen,
When the false Trojan 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,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

Lys.
Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.

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