Unknown Story

How now my love? Why is your cheek so pale?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 - Or else misgraffed in respect of years -
Belike for want of rain, which I could wellBeteem them from the tempest of my eyesO cross! too high to be enthralled to low.
Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.
O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence.Love takes the meaning in love's conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,So that but one heart we can make of it: Two bosoms interchained with an oath,So then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed room me deny,For lying so, Hermia I do not lie
And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena, nature shows art. That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a wordIs that vile name to perish on my sword!Content with Hermia? No! I do repentThe tedious minutes I with her have spent.Not Hermia, but Helena I love.
Do not say so, Lysander, say not so. What though he love your Hermia? Lord! what though?Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content

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