HERMIA
O cross! Too high to be enthrall'd to low!

LYSANDER
Or else misgraffed in respect of years;--

HERMIA
O spite! Too old to be engag'd to young!

LYSANDER
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends:

HERMIA
O hell! to choose love by another's eye!

LYSANDER
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
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
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.

HERMIA
If then true lovers have ever cross'd,
It stands as an edict in destiny: