Hel.
Stay, tho' thou kill me, sweet Demetrius!

Dem.
I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus.

Hel.
O wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so.

Dem.
Stay on thy peril, I alone will go. [Exit Demetrius.

Hel.
O I am out of breath in this fond chace;
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lyes;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? not with salt tears;
If so, my eyes are oftner wash'd than hers:
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me run away for fear.

Therefore no marvel, tho' Demetrius
Do (as a monster) fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine,
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander on the ground:
Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound:
Lysander, if you live, good Sir awake.

Lys.
And run thro' fire I will for thy sweet sake. [Waking.
Transparent Helen, nature here shews art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? Oh how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword?

Hel.
Do not say so, Lysander, say not so;
What tho' he love your Hermia? lord, what tho'?
Yet Hermia still loves you; then be content.

Lys.
Content with Hermia? no: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent;
Not Hermia, but Helena I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason sway'd,
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season;
So I being young 'till now not ripe to reason,
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
Love's stories, written in love's richest book.

Hel.
Wherefore was I to this keen mock'ry born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no nor never can
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?

Good troth you do me wrong, good sooth you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo:
But fare you well. Perforce I must confess,
I thought you lord of more true gentleness:
Oh, that a lady of one man refus'd,
Should of another therefore be abus'd! [Exit.

Lys.
She sees not Hermia; Hermia sleep thou there,
And never may'st thou come Lysander near;
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to a stomach brings;
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my surfeit and my heresie,
Of all be hated, but the most of me;
And all my pow'rs address your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her Knight. [Exit.

Her.
Help me, Lysander, help me, do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast:
Ay me, for pity, what a dream was here?
Lysander look how do I quake with fear;
Me-thought a serpent eat my heart away,
And ^{d note}you sate smiling at his cruel prey:
Lysander! what remov'd? Lysander, lord!
What out of hearing, gone? no sound, no word?
Alack where are you? speak, and if you hear,
Speak of all loves; I swoon almost with fear.
No, then I well perceive you are not nigh,
Or death or you I'll find immediately. [Exit.

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