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We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good. And tarry for the comfort of the day
Bt it so, Lysander. Find you out a bed, For I upon this band will rest my head.
Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear, lie further off yet. Do not lie so near.
one turf shall serve as pillow for us both. One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth
O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence. Love takes the meaning in love's conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit so that but one heart we can make it. Two bosoms interchainéd with an oath- so then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed room me deny. For, lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
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