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  • Act 1
  • Act 2
  • Act 3
  • Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour draws on apace; four happy days bring in another moon: but, O, methinks, how slowThis old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, like to a step-dame or a dowager long withering out a young man revenue.
  • Act 4
  • Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood;And to speak troth, I have forgot our way:We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,And tarry for the comfort of the day.
  • Act 5
  • I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me;to fright me, if they could. But I will not stirfrom this place, do what they can: I will walk upand down here, and I will sing, that they shall hearI am not afraid.
  • The End
  • Fin
  • Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
  • Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have,To wear away this long age of three hoursBetween our after-supper and bed-time?Where is our usual manager of mirth?What revels are in hand? Is there no play,To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
  • By: Anthony Viola
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