Ob.
Stand close, this is the same Athenian.

Puck.
This is the woman, but not this the man.

Dem.
O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Her.
Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse;
For thou, I fear, hast giv'n me cause to curse:
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o'er shoes in blood,^{6 note} plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day,
As he to me. Would he have stoll'n away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon,
This whole earth may be bor'd; and that the moon
May through the center creep, and so displease
Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes.
It cannot be, but thou hast murder'd him;
So should a murderer look, so* ^note dread, so grim.

Dem.
So should the murder'd look; and so should I,
Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty:
Yet you the murderer look as bright, and clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimm'ring sphere.

Her.
What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

Dem.
I'ad rather give his carcass to my hounds.

Her.
Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men.
O! once tell true, tell true even for my sake,
Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake!

And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch!^{7 note}
Could not a worm, an adder do so much?
An adder did it, for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

Dem.
You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood:^{8 note}
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood,
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

Her.
I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

Dem.
And if I could, what should I get therefore?

Her.
A privilege never to see me more;
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he's dead or no. [Exit.

Dem.
There is no following her in this fierce vein,
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain:
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow,
For debt, that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his Tender here I make some stay. [Lies down.

Ob.
What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid thy love-juice on some true love's sight:
Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
Some true love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true.

Puck.
Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth,
A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

Ob.
About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens, see, thou find.
All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer;
With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear;
By some illusion, see, thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes, against she doth appear.

Puck.
I go, I go; look, how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit.

Ob.
Flower of this purple dye,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye!
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.
When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy. Enter Puck.

Puck.
Captain of our fairy-band,
Helena is here at hand,
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be?

Ob.
Stand aside: the noise they make,
Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck.
Then will two at once woo one;
That must needs be sport alone.
And those things do best please me,
That befal prepost'rously.

Previous section

Next section