Alidsummer Night's Dream.

ACT I.

SCENE I.Athens. A Room in the Palace of
THESEUS.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE,
and Attendants.

Thes. Now, fair Hippolyta, 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 stepdame, or a dowager,
Long withering out a young man's revenue.

Thes. 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 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 sung,

Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;

And stolen the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits.
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; messengers
Of 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 grace
Consent 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 gentleman,
Or to her death; according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.

Thes. What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair
maid:

To you your father should be as a god;
One that composed your beauties; yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax,

By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
Her. So is Lysander.

Thes.

In himself he is:

But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
The other must be held the worthier.

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 derived as he;

Her. I would my father looked but with my As well possessed; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly ranked,

eyes.

Thes. Rather your eyes must with his judgment If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

look.

Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power 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 befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

may

Thes. 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 mewed,
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 earthly happier is the rose distilled,
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 whose unwishéd yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

Thes. 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.

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 does, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

Thes. 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;
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 Hippolyta; what cheer, my love?
Demetrius and Egeus, go along:

I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptial; and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
Ege. With duty and desire we follow you.

[Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS,
DEMETRIUS, and Train.
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

Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes.
Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read,
Could ever hear my tale or history,

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia; and, Lysander, The course of true love never did run smooth:

yield,

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

But either it was different in blood:

Her. O cross! too high to be enthralled to low!

Lys. Or else misgrafféd, in respect of years:
Her. O spite! too old to be engaged too young!
Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends:
Her. O hell! to choose 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 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:

So quick bright things come to confusion.

Her. If then true lovers have been ever crossed,

It stands as an edíct in destiny:

Then let us teach our trial patience,

Because it is a customary cross;

Enter HELENA.

Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
Hel. Call you me fair! that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: O, happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet
air

More tunable than lark to shepherd's ear,

When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds ap-
pear!

Sickness is catching; O, were favor so,
Your's would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;

My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet
melody.

Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.

As due to love as thoughts, and dreams, and O, teach me how you look; and with what art

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;
And she respects me as her only son.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
And to that place the sharp Athenian law
Cannot
If thou lovest me, then,
pursue us.
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 a morn of May,
There will I stay for thee.

Her.

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

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.

You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles

such skill!

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
Hel. O, that my prayers could such affection
move!

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.
Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
Hel. None; but your beauty: 'would that fault
were mine!

Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my

face;

Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see,
Seemed Athens like a paradise to me:

O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turned a heaven into a hell!

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
To-morrow night, when Phœbe doth behold
Her 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.

Her. And in the wood where often you and I
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,

Lys. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes There my Lysander and myself shall meet :

Helena.

And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,

To have his sight thither and back again. [Exit. This was lofty! — Now name the rest of the play

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