Lysander Helen, to you our minds we will unfold. Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat’ry glass Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass — A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal — Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal. Hermia 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. Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius – Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "starve our sight"
Lysander Helen, to you our minds we will unfold. Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat’ry glass Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass — A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal — Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Phoebe"
Hermia God speed, fair Helena. Whither away? Helena Call you me fair? That “fair” again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair, O happy fair! Your eyes are lodestars, and your tongue's sweet air More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Sickness is catching. O, were favor so! Your words 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'd give to be to you translated. O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Sickness is catching"
Hermia God speed, fair Helena. Whither away? Helena Call you me fair? That “fair” again unsay. Demetrius loves your fair, O happy fair! Your eyes are lodestars, and your tongue's sweet air More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Sickness is catching. O, were favor so! Your words 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'd give to be to you translated. O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "lodestars"
Hermia 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 Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "By all the vows"
Lysander Ay me! For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth, But either it was different in blood — Hermia O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low. Lysander Or else misgrafted in respect of years — Hermia O spite! Too old to be engaged to young. Lysander Or merit stood upon the choice of friends — Hermia O hell! To choose love by another's eyes. Lysander 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. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Brief as the lightning"
Lysander How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast? Hermia Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "roses"
Hermia Unto his lordship, whose unwishèd yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: “unwishèd yoke”
Theseus 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 earthlier happy is the rose distilled Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "barren sister"
Theseus 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. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "mew"
