Lysander riddles very prettily. Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy, Lie further off, in humane modesty; Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend. Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!
With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be press’d!
Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I, And then end life when I end loyalty! Here is my bed; sleep give thee all his rest!
Through the forest have I gone, But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flower’s force in stirring love.
Night and silence—Who is here? Weeds of Athens he doth wear: This is he, my master said, Despised the Athenian maid; And here the maiden, sleeping sound, On the dank and dirty ground. Pretty soul, she durst not lie Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe. When thou wak’st, let love forbid Sleep his seat on thy eyelid. So awake when I am gone, For I must now to Oberon.