To undergo such maiden pilgrimage: But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty. The. Take time to pause: and, by the next new moon, (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would: 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 possess'd; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd, If not with vantage, as Demetrius'; 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? 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 have some private schooling for you both.--- I must employ you in some business [Exeunt The. Hip. Ege. Dem. 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. The course of true love never did run smooth: Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! 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: And in the wood, a league without the town, There will I stay for thee. Her. My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow; By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves; Lys. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes 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 tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. O, teach me how you look; and with what art the motion of Demetrius' heart. You sway 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; O then, what graces in my love do dwell, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: 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; There my Lysander and myself shall meet: : And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies. Fare wel, sweet playfellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!— |