For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself To fit your fancies to your father’s will, Or else the law of Athens yields you up (Which by no means we may extenuate) To death, or to a vow of single life.—
(to ROBIN) What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite And laid the love juice on some true love’s sight. Of thy misprision must perforce ensue Some true love turned, and not a false turned true.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, Ere I will yield my virgin patent up Unto his lordship, whose unwishèd yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
Not for thy fairy kingdom.—Fairies, away! We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.
(singing) The blackbird with its black feathers And its orange-and-tan beak, The thrush with its clear voice, The wren with its small, piping chirp—
And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
When you wake you will be truly delighted to see the woman you once loved. And when you wake up, you’ll be a walking illustration of the well-known country proverb. “Jack will have Jill and everything will be all right.”
These couples will be married along with me and Hippolyta in the temple later today.—And now, since the morning is almost over, we’ll give up on the idea of hunting. Come with us to Athens. We three couples will celebrate with a sumptuous feast.