Obe. How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
075 Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
[077] Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night
[078] From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
[079] And make him with fair Ægle break his faith,
[080] With Ariadne and Antiopa?
Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
[082] And never, since the middle summer’s spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,