That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Ege. It is, my lord.
135 The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. [Horns and shout within. Lys., Dem., Hel., and Her., wake and start up.
[136] Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
Lys. Pardon, my lord.
The.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you two are rival enemies:
140 How comes this gentle concord in the world,