Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and Attendants.

Theseus. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in Another moon: but, O, 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.

Hippolyta. 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
New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.

Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth :
Turn melancholy forth to funerals;

ΤΟ

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. Egeus. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!

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Theseus. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?

Egeus. 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 bewitch'd the bosom of my child.—
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes
And interchang'd love-tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung
With feigning voice verses of feigning love,
And stolen impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats, 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 it so she will not here before your grace

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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.

Theseus. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid : To you your father should be as a god;

One that compos'd 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.
Hermia. So is Lysander.

Theseus.

In himself he is ;

But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,

The other must be held the worthier.

Hermia. I would my father look'd but with my eyes. Theseus. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. Hermia. 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 may befall me in this case,

If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

Theseus. 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.

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Thrice blessed they that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,

Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

Hermia. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up

Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke

My soul consents not to give sovereignty.

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Theseus. 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.

Demetrius. Relent, sweet Hermia:—and, Lysander, yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.

Lysander. You have her father's love, Demetrius;

Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

Egeus. 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.

Lysander. 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?

Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,

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