A Midsummer Night's Dream

Theseus. Now faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre

Drawes on apace: foure happy daies bring in

Another Moon: but oh, me thinkes, how slow

This old Moon wanes; She lingers my desires

Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager,

Long withering out a yong mans reuennew

Hip. Foure daies wil quickly steep the[m]selues in nights

Foure nights wil quickly dreame away the time:

And then the Moone, like to a siluer bow,

Now bent in heauen, shal behold the night

Of our solemnities