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Act 1, Scene 1
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in Another moon.
And, my gracious duke, Be it so she will not here before your grace Consent to marry with Demetrius.
Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
Act 3, Scene 1
Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?
I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.
What do you see? You see an ass head of your own, do you?
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