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THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX TILDEN FOUNDATIO

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S

DREAM

William Shakespeare

ACT FIRST

SCENE I: Athens.-The palace of Theseus

[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate
and Attendants.]

The. 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.
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
New-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 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
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 interchanged love-tokens with my child;
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
And stolen the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, con-

ceits;

Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats, messen

gers

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
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.

The. 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.

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 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.

The. Either to die the death, or to abjure

Forever 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 rose distill'd,

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

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