To you your father should be as a god;One that composed your beauties, yea, and oneTo whom you are but as a form in waxBy him imprinted and within his power
What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid:To you your father should be as a god;
So is Lysander.
I would my father look'd but with my eyes.
The other must be held the worthier.But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,In himself he is;
In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;Nor how it may concern my modesty,I know not by what power I am made bold,I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,Ere I will my virgin patent upUnto his lordship, whose unwished yokeMy soul consents not to give sovereignty.
Either to die the death or to abjureFor ever the society of men.Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;Know of your youth, examine well your blood,Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,You can endure the livery of a nun,For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourselfI have some private schooling for you both.And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;But, being over-full of self-affairs,And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;I must confess that I have heard so much,
Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.Against our nuptial and confer with youI must employ you in some businessDemetrius and Egeus, go along:Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?To death, or to a vow of single life.Which by no means we may extenuate--Or else the law of Athens yields you up--To fit your fancies to your father's will;
Because it is a customary cross,Then let us teach our trial patience,It stands as an edict in destiny:If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,