You have her father's love, Demetrius. Let me have Hermia's. Do you marry him?
SCORNFUL LYSANDER !
Lysander, yield thy crazed title to my certain right.
Take time to pause and by the next new moon either prepare to die or else to wed Demetrius.
Hear me, Hermia. I have a widow aunt of great revenue. From Athens is her house remote seven leagues. There, gentle Hermia may I marry thee, and to that place the sharp Athenian law cannot pursue us. Steal forth thy father's house tomorrow night in the woods will I stay for thee.
My good Lysander! I swear to thee by cupid's strongest bow, tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.
Tomorrow night, through Athens gates have we devised to steal
I will go tell him fair Hermia's flight.
And in the wood, there my Lysander and myself shall meet and thence from Athens turn away our eyes. Farewell Helena !