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.
Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed; For I upon this bank will rest my head.
One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.
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 bedroom me deny; For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
Lysander riddles very prettily: Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, if Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd!
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy lie further off; in human 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!
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!
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