I Say There Is No

Either To Die The Death Or To Abjure For Ever The Society Of Men. Therefore, Fair Hermia, Question Your Desires; Know Of Your Youth, Examine Well Your Blood, Whether, If You Yield Not To Your Father's Choice, You Can Endure The Livery Of A Nun, For Aye To Be In Shady Cloister Mew'd, To Live A Barren Sister All Your Life, Chanting Faint Hymns To The Cold Fruitless Moon. Thrice-blessed They That Master So Their Blood, To Undergo Such Maiden Pilgrimage; But Earthlier Happy Is The Rose Distill'd, Than That Which Withering On The Virgin Thorn Grows, Lives And Dies In Single Blessedness.

What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies No Plenty; Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

That Truth Should Be Silent I Had Almost Forgot. (enobarbus)

O' What May Man Within Him Hide, Though Angel On The Outward Side!

My Noble Father, I Do Perceive Here A Divided Duty. To You I Am Bound For Life And Education. My Life And Education Both Do Learn Me How To Respect You. You Are The Lord Of My Duty, I Am Hitherto Your Daughter. But Here’s My Husband, And So Much Duty As My Mother Showed To You, Preferring You Before Her Father, So Much I Challenge That I May Profess Due To The Moor My Lord.