1 I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again.
2 A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
3 Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
4 But fare you well; perforce I must confess, I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
5 There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee, And to that place the sharp Athenian law Cannot pursue us.
6 But I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.'
7 Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
8 You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.