All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand! Oh, oh, oh!

DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

How many a holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, as interest of the dead!

That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark

You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves praised.

I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.