ACT I
SCENE I. Athens. A room in the Palace of Theseus
Hippolyta, I woo’d thee with my sword, And won thy love doing thee injuries; But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.
Happy be Theseus, our renownèd Duke!
Thanks, good Egeus. What’s the news with thee?
So is Lysander.
I would my father look’d but with my eyes.
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
With duty and desire we follow you.
O cross! Too high to be enthrall’d to low.
Or else misgraffèd in respect of years—
O spite! Too old to be engag’d to young.
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—
O hell! to choose love by another’s eyes!
Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
O that my prayers could such affection move!
The more I hate, the more he follows me.
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
None but your beauty; would that fault were mine!
I will, my Hermia.
Helena, adieu. As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!