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By Jacob Ryan
Now fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace
Here, my daughter Hermia. Demetruis hath my consent to marry her Lysander has bewitched the bosom of my child
Lysander is a worthy gentlemen, however I may know the worst that befall me if I refuse to wed Demetruis
Either to die the death, or to abjure for ever the society of men
Relent, sweet Hermia, and Lysander yeild, thy crazed title to my certain right
My good Lysander, what shall happen now
I have a Widow aunt, a dowager. From Athens is her house remote, there gentle Hermia I shall merry thee
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