1 You have her father's love, Demetrius.
2 It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
3 The more I love, the more he hateth me.
4 We cannot fight for love as men may do.
5 I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
6 I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
7 And even for that do I love you the more.
8 Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste.
9 A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.
10 I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.
11 And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
12 Scornful Lysander, true, he hath my love; And what is mine my love shall render him; And she is mine, and all my right of her I do estate unto Demetrius.
13 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.
14 Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.
15 Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
16 Then I must be thy lady; but I know When thou hast stol'n away from fairyland, And in the shape of Corin sat all day Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love To amorous Phillida.
17 Take time to pause; and by the next new moon The sealing-day betwixt my love and me For everlasting bond of fellowship, Upon that day either prepare to die For disobedience to your father's will, Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would, Or on Diana's altar to protest For aye austerity and single life.
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