Shakespeare's principal plays

Prefatory Note

The restriction of this volume to the twenty plays most commonly read and most frequently acted has permitted the use of a type of comfortable size and the inclusion of in- ^^troductory and explanatory matter without which the plays can hardly be understood by ^ the ordinary reader. Since Shakespeare's time, words have fallen out of current use or taken on new meaning, customs and institutions have changed, and the methods of stage representation have been revolutionized. Without burdening the reader with superfluous antiquarianism, the editors have endeavored to supply such information as would be of help and interest.

In the introduction to each play a somewhat fuller account of its stage history has been included than has hitherto been usual in editions of this scope, and particular attention has been given to the important Shakespearean revivals, on both sides of the Atlantic, of the last hundred years. Information as to recent performances is not easy of access, and this is possibly the reason why editors in the past, while giving due space to nineteenth century criticism, have omitted or slighted performances which, often remarkable in themselves, are surely worthy of record as restoring Shakespeare to the stage free from the additions and corruptions of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In this connection the editors wish to acknowledge with hearty thanks the kindness with which Professor Talcott Williams, Director of the School of Journalism of Columbia University, put at their disposal his unique collection of English and American newspaper clippings, which is specially rich in Shakespearean references.

The text is in general based on that of the First Folio, with modernized spelling. The original stage directions have been, as far as possible, retained, and additions by later editors enclosed in square brackets; where the stage directions of the quartos appeared significant, they have been included, and their source indicated.

The Globe line-numbering has been followed for the sake of convenience in reference.

The proper scansion of metrical passages has been facilitated by two devices: (a) by the insertion of accent marks to guide the reader in the pronunciation of words stressed differently in Shakespeare's usage than at present; e.g., revenue, commune; (b) by retaining the differentiation which the original Folio makes between past tenses of verbs in 'J and in ed. Wherever the latter form appears in verse lines, the meter requires that it should be pronounced as a distinct syllable.

The plays are arranged in the order, which, without violating the ascertained results of Shakespearean chronology, is thought most advantageous alike to the college student and to the general reader.

In the preparation of the volume, there has been constant interchange of opinion between the various editors, and Professor Cunliffe has been charged with the general supervision of the proofs. It has not been thought desirable, however, to exclude individual judgment altogether, and an initial, affixed to each introduction, indicates the editor more particularly responsible for the treatment of the play in question.

Contents

PAGE

MERCHANT OF VENICE 87

RICHARD II o . 129

ACT I. SC. I must employ you in some business

Against our nuptial, and confer with you 125

Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.

Ege. With duty and desire we follow you.

Exeunt all hut Lysander and Hermia.

Lys. How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

Her. Belike for want of rain, which I could well ' 130

Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

Lys. Ay me ! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth ; But, either it was different in blood, — 135

Her, O cross ! too high to be enthrall'd to low.

Lys. Or else misgrafFed in respect of years, —

Her. O spite ! too old to be engag'd to young.

Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends, —

Her. O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, 141 War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it. Making it momentary as a sound. Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, 145 That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and

earth.

And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold !' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.

Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross 'd. It stands as an edict in destiny. 151

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. 155

Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia.

I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child. From Athens is her house remov'd seven

leagues ; And she respects me as her only son. 160

There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us. If thou lov'st me then. Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow

night; And in the wood, a league without the town. Where I did meet thee once with Helena 166

To do observance for a morn of May, There will I stay for thee.

Her. My good Lysander !

I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow. By his best arrow with the golden head, 170 By the simplicity of Venus' doves. By that which knitteth souls and prospers

loves.

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage

queen.

When the false Troyan under sail was seen. By all the vows that ever men have broke, 17s (In number more than ever women spoke) In that same place thou hast appointed me To-morrow truly will I meet with thee. Lys. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes

Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God speed fair Helena ! Whither away ? Hel. Call you me fair? That fair again unsay. Demetrius loves you fair : O happy fair ! 182 Your eyes are lode-stars, and your tongue's

sweet air More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. 185

Sickness is catching; O, were favour so. Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your

eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet

melody.

Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated. The rest I'll give to be to you translated. 191 O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! 195

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O that my prayers could such affection

move I Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. 200 Hel. None but your beauty. Would that fault

were mine !

Her. Take comfort. He no more shall see my face ; Lysander and myself will fly this place. Before the time I did Lysander see.

[act I. SC. I.

Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me; 205

O, then, what graces in my love do dwell. That he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell !

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the watery glass, 210

Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, A time that lovers' fligiits doth still conceal. Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal.

Her, And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, 215 Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet. There my Lysander and myself shall meet. And thence from Athens turn away our eyes. To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet playfellow ! Pray thou for

us; And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius ! 221 Keep word, Lysander; we must starve our

sight From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.

Lys. I will, my Hermia. Exit Herm.

Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you ! 225

Exit Lysande7\

Hel. How happy some o'er other some can be ! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; He will not know what all but he do know ; And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, 230 So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity. Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste; Wings and no eyes figure unlieedy haste; 237 And therefore is Love said to be a child. Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, So the boy Love is perjur'd every where: 241 For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne. He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine; And when this hail some heat from Hermia

felt, So he dissolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt. I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight; 246 Then to the wood will he to-morrow night Pursue her; and for this intelligence If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.

But herein mean I to enrich my pain, 250

To have his sight thither and back again.

Exit.

[Scene II. — Quince's house.^

Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Joiner, Bottom the Weaver, Flute the Bellows-mender, Snout the Tinker, and Starveling the Tailor.

Quin. Is all our company here?

Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.

Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit through all Athens to play in our interlude before the Duke and the Duchess, on his wedding-day at night. 7

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow on to a point. 10

Quin. Marry, our play is. The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves. 17

Quin. Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.

Bot. Ready; name what part I am for, and proceed. 21

Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant?

Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love. 26

Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes. I will move storms ; I will condole in some measure. To the rest. Yet my chief humour is for a tyrant. I could play Ercles rarely^ or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. 32

'The raging rocks And shivering shocks Shall break the locks 35

Of prison gates; And Phibbus' car Shall shine from far And make and mar

The foolish Fates.* 40

This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein ; a lover is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute the bellows-mender.

Flu. Here, Peter Quince. 45

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.

Flu. What is Thisby ? a wandering knight ?

Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

Flu. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard coming. 50

Quin. That's all one ; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as sm'all as you will.

Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too. I'll speak in a monstrous little voice, 'Thisne ! Thisne !' 'Ah Pyramus, my lover dear ! thy Thisby dear, and lady dear !' 56

Quin. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and. Flute, you Thisby.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Quin. Robin Starveling the tailor. 60

Star. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. Tom Snout the tinker.

Snout. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father. Snug the joiner, you, the lion's part; and I hope here is a play fitted. 67

Snug. Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. 71

Bot. Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, 'Let him roar again, let him roar again.' 75

Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us, every mother' son. 80

Bot. I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us; but I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you and 't were any nightingale. 86

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man, a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: therefore you must needs play Pyramus. 91

Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will discharge it in either your strawcolour beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crowncoloured beard, your perfect yellow. 98

Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play barefaced. But, masters, here are your parts ; and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight. There will we rehearse ; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. In the meantime, I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. 109

Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely and courageously. Take pains, be perfect, adieu.

Quin. At the Duke's oak we meet.

Bot. Enough; hold or cut bow-strings. 114

[Scene I. — The Palace wood a mile without the town.]

Enter a Fairy at one door, and Robin Goodfellow at another.

Robin. How now, spirit! whither wander you? Fai. Over hill, over dale.

Thorough bush, thorough brier.

Over park, over pale.

Thorough flood, thorough flre, 5

I do wander every where.

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I serve the fairy Queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green.

The cowslips tall her pensioners be; 10

In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favours.

In those freckles live their savours.

I must go seek some dewdrops here

And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. 15

Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone.

Our Queen and all her elves come here anon. Robin. The King doth keep his revels here tonight;

[act II. SC. I.

Take heed the Queen come not within his

sight, For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, 20

Because that she as her attendant hath A lovely boy stolen from an Indian king. She never had so sweet a changeling; And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. But she perforce withholds the loved boy, 26 Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all

her joy; And now they never meet in grove or green. By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen, But they do square, that all their elves for

fear 30

Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there. Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making

quite.

Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Call'd Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he That frights the maidens of the villagery, 35 Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern. And bootless make the breathless housewife

churn.

And sometime make the drink to bear no barm. Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their

harm ?

Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet

Puck, 40

You do their work, and they shall have good

luck.

Are not you he.^ Robin. Thou speak'st aright;

I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon and make him smile When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, 45 Neighing in likeness of a filly foal; And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab; And when she drinks, against her lips I

bob And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale. 50 The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale. Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me. Then slip I from her bum, down topples she. And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole quire hold their hips and

laugh, 55

And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and

swear A merrier hour was never wasted there. But room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

Fai. And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!

Enter the King of Fairies [Oberon^ at one door with his train; and the Queen [Titania~\ at another with hers.

Obe. Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. 60

Tita. What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence ; I have forsworn his bed and company.

Obe. Tarry, rash wanton! Am not I thy lord?

Tita. Then I must be thy lady; but I know When thou hast stolen away from fairy land, And in the shape of Corin sat all day, 66

Playing on pipes of corn and versing love To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, Come from the farthest steep of India? But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, 70 Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love. To Theseus must be wedded, and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity.

Obe. How canst thou thus for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, 75

Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night From Perigenia, whom he ravished? And make him with fair iEgle break his faith. With Ariadne, and Antiopa? 80

Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy;

And never, since the middle summer's spring. Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead. By paved fountain or by rushy brook. Or in the beached margent of the sea, 85

To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind. But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our

sport.

Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain. As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs, which, falling in the land, 90 Hath every petty river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in

vain.

The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green

corn Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard. 95 The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock, The nine men's morris is fiU'd up with mud. And the quaint mazes in the wanton green. For lack of tread, are undistinguishable. 100

The human mortals want their winter here. No night is now with hymn or carol blest. Therefore the moon^ the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air. That rheumatic diseases do abound. 105

4nd thorough this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose. And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds no Is, as in mockery, set; the spring, the summer. The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world. By their increase, now knows not which is

which.

And this same progeny of evils comes 115

From our debate, from our dissension; We are their parents and original. Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you. Why should Titania cross her Oberon? I do but beg a little changeling boy 120

To be my henchman.

Tita. Set your heart at rest;

The fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a votaress of my order. And, in the spiced Indian air, by night. Full often hath she gossip'd by my side, 125 And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands. Marking the embarked traders on the flood. When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; Which she with pretty and with swimming gait 130

Following, (her womb then rich with my

young squire,) Would imitate, and sail upon the land To fetch me trifles, and return again. As from a voyage, rich with merchandise. But she, being mortal, of that boy did die; 135 And for her sake I do rear up her boy. And for her sake I 'will not part with him. Obe. How long within this wood intend you

stay }

Tita. Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.

If you will patiently dance in our round, 140

And see our moonlight revels, go with us;

If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.

■ Obe. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

Tita. Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies away !

We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. 145

Exit [Titania with her train'].

Obe. Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this

grove Till I torment thee for this injury. My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remem-

b'rest Since once I sat upon a promontory. And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back 150 Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath That the rude sea grew civil at her song. And certain stars shot madly from their

spheres.

To hear the sea-maid's music?

Puck. I remember.

Obe. That very time I saw, but thou couldst not. Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd. A certain aim he took 157 At a fair vestal throned by the west. And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his

bow.

As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts ; But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft 161 Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery

moon.

And the imperial votaress passed on In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell. 165 It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's

wound.

And maidens call it love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower, the herb I shew'd thee

once.

The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid 170 Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees. Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again Ere the leviathan can swim a league. Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth 175 In forty minutes. [Exit]

Obe. Having once this juice,

I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon, Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, 180

On meddling monkey, or on busy ape, She shall pursue it with the soul of love; And ere I take this charm off from her sight, As I can take it with another herb, I'll make her render up her page to me. 185 But who comes here? I am invisible; And I will overhear their conference. Enter Demetrius, Helena following him^

[act II. sc.

Dem. I love thee not^ therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? The one I'll stay, the other stayeth me. 190 Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this

wood ; And here am I, and wood within this wood. Because I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.

Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart 196 Is true as steel. Leave you your power to

draw.

And I shall have no power to follow you.

Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? Or rather do I not in plainest truth 200

Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?

Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel, and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you. Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, 205

Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave. Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love, — And yet a j^lace of high respect with me, — Than to be used as you use your dog? 210

Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit.

For I am sick when I do look on thee.

Hel. And I am sick when I look not on you.

Dem. You do impeach your modesty too much. To leave the city and commit yourself 215

Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity.

Hel. Your virtue is my privilege, For that 220 It is not night when I do see your face. Therefore I think I am not in the night. Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company. For you in my respect are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone, 225

When all the world is here to look on me?

Dem. I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes.

And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.

Hel.

The wildest hath not such a heart as you.

Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; 231 The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind ISIakes speed to catch the tiger ; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

Dem. I will not stay thy questions; let me go; 235 Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

\_Exit Dem.^

Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius ! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex. 240 We cannot fight for love, as men may do. W^e should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell. To die upon the hand I love so well. Exit.

Ohe. Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove, 245

Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love.

Enter Puck.

Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.

Puck. Ay, there it is.

Obe. I pray thee, give it me.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows. Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, 250 Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine. There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight ; And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin. Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in; 256

And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes. And make her full of hateful fantasies. Take thou some of it, and seek through this

grove, A sweet Athenian lady is in love 260

With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes. But do it when the next thing he espies May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove 265 More fond on her than she upon her love; And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.

Puck. Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.

Exeunt.

[Scene II. — A bank of thyme, oxlips, and other tvild flowers in the wood.^

Enter Titania, with her train.

Tita. Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; Then, for the third part of a minute, hence, Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds-

IS

Some war with rere-mice for their leathern

wings To make my small elves coats^ and some keep

back 5

The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and

wonders At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep ; Then to your offices^ and let me rest.

Fairies sing.

[i. Fairy.] 'You spotted snakes with double tongue.

Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; lo

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong. Come not near our fairy queen.'

[Cho.] 'Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby. is Never harm.

Nor spell nor charm.

Come our lovely lady nigh.

So, good night, with lullaby.'

2. Fairy. 'Weaving spiders, come not here ; 20 Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not near; Worm nor snail, do no offence.'

[Cho.~\ 'Philomel, with melody,' etc.

2. Fairy. Hence, away ! now all is well. 25

One aloof stand sentinel.

[Exeunt Fairies.] Titania sleeps.

Enter Oberon [and squeezes the flower on Titania' s eyelids].

Ohe. What thou seest when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true-love take.

Love and languish for his sake. Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, 30

Pard, or boar with bristled hair. In thy eye that shall appear When thou wak'st, it is thy dear. Wake when some vile thing is near.

[Exit.]

Enter Lysander and Hermia.