Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in another moon: but O, methinks how slow this old moon wanes.
For disobedience to your father's will, or else wed Demetrius, as he would, or on Diana's altar to protest for aye, austerity and single life.
Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love, And what is mine my love shall render him.
You Have her father's love, Demetrius: Let me have Hermia's; do you marry him
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the watery glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.
Take comfort: he no more shall see my face; Lysander and myself will fly this place.
None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine!
Theseus and Hippolyta discussing their marriage
Hermai's father wants her to marry Demetrius but she loves Lysander.
Lysander and Hermia decide to run away to a place where the Athenian laws will not reach them. They tell Helena of their plan.