We’ll rest us Hermia, If you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day
Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed; For I upon this bank will rest my head
One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.
Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie
Lysander riddles very prettily:
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. But, gentle friend, for love an courtesy Lie further off; in human modesty, Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end!
Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest!
With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed!
To honour Helen and to be her night
Help me, Lysnader, Help me! Do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Ay me for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear: Methought a serpent eat my heart away, and you sat smiling at his cruel prey. Lysander! What removed? Lysander! Lord! What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word? Alack, where are you speak, and if you hear, Speak of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. No? Then I well perceive you all not nigh. Either death or you I’ll find immediately.
