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.)
