Her.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes.
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
It pays the hearing double recompence.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found,
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?

Lys.
Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?

Her.
What love could press Lysander from my side?

Lys.
Lysander's love, that would not let him bide;
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery O's and eyes of light.
Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee know,
The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?

Her.
You speak not as you think: it cannot be.

Hel.
Lo, she is one of this confed'racy;
Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three,
To fashion this false sport in spight of me.

Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derision?
&plquo;Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
&plquo;The sisters vows, the hours that we have spent,
&plquo;When we have chid the hasty-footed time
&plquo;For parting us: O! and is all forgot?
&plquo;All school-days friendship, childhood innocence?
&plquo;We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
&plquo;Created with our needles both one flower,
&plquo;Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion;
&plquo;Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
&plquo;As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
&plquo;Had been incorp'rate. So we grew together,
&plquo;Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
&plquo;But yet an union in partition;
Two lovely berries molded on one stem,
So with two seeming bodies, but one heart,
Two of the first life, coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly;
Our sex as well as I may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.

Her.
Helen I am amazed at your words:
I scorn you not; it seems that you scorn me.

Hel.
Have you not set Lysander as in scorn
To follow me, and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius
(Who even but now did spurn me with his foot)
To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celestial? wherefore speaks he this

To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection;
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate;
But miserable most, to love unlov'd?
This you should pity rather than despise.

Her.
I understand not what you mean by this.

Hel.
Ay do, persever, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up:
This sport well carried shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument:
But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine own fault,
Which death or absence soon shall remedy.

Lys.
Stay gentle Helena, hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena.

Hel.
O excellent!

Her.
Sweet, do not scorn her so.

Dem.
If she cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lys.
Thou canst compel no more than she entreat.
Thy threats have no more strength than her weak praise.
Helen, I love thee, by my life I do;
I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
To prove him false that says I love thee not.

Dem.
I say, I love thee more than he can do.

Lys.
If thou say so, withdraw and prove it too.

Dem.
Quick, come.

Her.
Lysander, whereto tends all this?

Lys.
Away, you Ethiope.

Dem.
No no, he'll seem

To break away, take on as he would follow,
But yet come not; you are a tame man, go.

Lys.
Hang off thou cat, thou burr; vile thing let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.

Her.
Why are you grown so rude? what change is this?
Sweet love!

Lys.
Thy love? out tawny Tartar, out;
Out loathed medicine; hated poison, hence.

Her.
Do you not jest?

Hel.
Yes sooth, and so do you.

Lys.
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

Dem.
I would I had your bond; for I perceive
A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word.

Lys.
What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Her.
What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love?
Am not I Hermia? are not you Lysander?
I am as fair now as I was ere-while.
Since night you lov'd me; yet since night you left me:
Why then you left me (O the gods forbid!)
In earnest, shall I say?

Lys.
Ay by my life,
And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, doubt;
Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest,
That I do hate thee and love Helena.

Her.
O me, you jugler, oh you canker-blossom,
You thief of love; what, have you come by night,
And stoll'n my love's heart from him?

Hel.
Fine, i'faith !
Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? what, will you tear

Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet you.

Her.
Puppet! why so? ay, that ways go the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urg'd her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.
And are you grown so high in his esteem,
Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak,
How low am I? I am not yet so low,
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Hel.
I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
I am a right maid for my cowardise:
Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
Because she's something lower than my self,
That I can match her.

Her.
Lower! hark again.

Hel.
Good Hermia do not be so bitter with me,
I evermore did love you Hermia,
Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you,
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth into the wood:
He follow'd you, for love I follow'd him,
But he hath chid me hence, and threaten'd me
To strike me, spurn me, nay to kill me too;
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further. Let me go.
You see how simple and how fond I am.

Her.
Why get you gone; who is't that hinders you?

Hel.
A foolish heart that I leave here behind.

Her.
What, with Lysander?

Hel.
With Demetrius.

Lys.
Be not afraid, she will not harm thee, Helena.

Dem.
No Sir, she shall not, though you take her part.

Hel.
O when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd;
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she be but little she is fierce.

Her.
Little again? nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.

Lys.
Get you gone you dwarf,
You Minimus, of hind'ring knot-grass made,
You bead, you acorn.

Dem.
You are too officious
In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone, speak not of Helena,
Take not her part: for if thou dost intend
Never so little shew of love to her,
Thou shalt aby it.

Lys.
Now she holds me not,
Now follow if thou dar'st, to try whose right
Of thine or mine is most in Helena.

Dem.
Follow? nay I'll go with thee cheek by jowl. Exe. Lysander and Demetrius.

Her.
You mistress, all this coyl is long of you:
Nay, go not back.

Hel.
I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though to run away.

^{b note}Her.
I am amaz'd, and know not what to say. [Exeunt.

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