LYSANDER     A good persuasion; therefore hear me, Hermia.

I have a widow aunt, a dowager,

Of great revenue, and she hath no child.

From Athens is her house remote seven leagues,

And she respects me as her only son.

There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee,

And to that place the sharp Athenian law

Cannot pursue us. If thou lov’st me, then

Steal forth thy father’s house tomorrow night;

And in the wood a league without the town,

Where I did meet thee once with Helena

To do observance to a morn of May,

There will I stay for thee.     (1.1.156-168)

 A good persuasion—well, it’s a reasonable position to take, yes, it does rather look like the whole world’s against us and we just have to suck it up. But also: I’ve made my mind up, let’s do this. I have a plan! I am SO the romantic hero! Therefore hear me, Hermia. Shhhhhh. I have a widow aunt, a dowager, of great revenue, and she hath no child. He’s ticking it off, all these pluses, a widow (so not answerable to anyone; legally independent), wealthy, perhaps titled, and RICH—and she’s CHILDLESS. Three in a row, ka-ching! From Athens is her house remote seven leagues, so, a good way off, and implicitly out of Athenian jurisdiction, and she respects me as her only son. I’m her HEIR, or as good as; and I’m her favourite, too. There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee, and to that place the sharp Athenian law cannot pursue us. We can run away, get away from your father and that weird old law he’s invoking, no one can come after us there; we can ELOPE! (Lysander can of course be deadly serious, coming up with this desperate plan because it’s a desperate situation and this is the only possible way out.)

So, if thou lov’st me—and I know you do, darling!—then steal forth thy father’s house tomorrow night. Sneak out, run away with me! And in the wood a league without the town—so, still a way away from the aunt’s house, which is too far to go in one stage (a league is around three miles, but its poetic use tends to be imprecise)—where I did meet thee once with Helena to do observance to a morn of May, yes, you know the place, remember? and a May memory makes it a bit romantic, and it’s a useful name-check for Helena, and establishes intimacy between Hermia and Helena too—there will I stay for thee. I’ll be waiting for you! In the woods! Tomorrow night! Romantic, or WHAT? (And a reminder that the moon is waning; tomorrow night is only three days before the new moon, so it’ll be DARK.)