Page:A Midsummer-Nights Dream (Rackham).djvu/18

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Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;

Four nights will quickly dream away the time;

And then the moon, like to a silver bow

New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night

Of our solemnities.

Go, Philostrate,

Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;

Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth:

Turn melancholy forth to funerals;

The pale companion is not for our pomp.

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 renowned duke!

Thanks, good Egeus: what’s the news with thee?

Full of vexation come I, with complaint

Against my child, my daughter Hermia.