Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. . . . So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist. The female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. Oh, how I love thee! How I dote on thee! (IV.i.)
My Oberon, what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamored of an ass. (IV.i.)
Now thou and I are new in amity, And will tomorrow midnight solemnly Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperity. (IV.i.)
To her, my lord, Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia, But like in sickness did I loathe this food, But, as in health, come to my natural taste, Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will for evermore be true to it. (IV.i.)
I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about t’expound this dream. (IV.i.)
