MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. ACT I. SCENE I-Athens. A room in the palace of Theseus. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and attendants. Theseus. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Long withering out a young man's revenue. Four nights will quickly dream away the time; New bent in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities. The. Stir up Go, Philostrate, 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 Philostrate Hippolyta, 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 I beg the ancient privilege of Athens; The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: To you your father should be as a god; One that compos'd your beautics; yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By hin imprinted, and within his power In himself he is : The. Her. I would my father look'd but with my eyes The. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, For ayel to be in shady cloister mew'd, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke 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, (1) Ever. 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; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And, which is more than all these boasts can be, Why should not I then prosecute my right? 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 of self-affairs, My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; I must employ you in some business 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 check 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: Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! 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 cross'd, It stands as an edíct 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; (1) Give, bestow. (2) Black. (3) Lovers. |