To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,

When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals to mock Helena:"
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes,
With your derision! none, of nobler sort,*
Would so offend a virgin; and extort
A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
For you love Hermia; this, you know, I know:
And here, with all good-will, with all my heart,
In Hermia's love I yield you up my part:
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,

Whom I do love, and will do to my death.

Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone.

My heart with her, but, as guest-wise, sojourn'd;
And now to Helen is it home return'd,

There to remain.

Lys. Helen, it is not so.

Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.†—

Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

Enter HERMIA.

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 recompense:-
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 oes and eyes of light.

Why seek'st thou me ? could not this make thee know,

The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so ?

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

Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!

Now I perceive they have conjoin'd, all three,
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!

Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
To bait me with this foul derision?

Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time

For parting us,-O, and is all forgot?

All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial* gods,

Have with our neeldst created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet a union in partition;

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem:
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent 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. I am amazed at your passionate 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 unloved?
This you should pity, rather than despise.
Her. I understand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do, persevere, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mowst upon me when I turn my back;
Wink at each 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 prayers.→→ Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do;

* Ingenious.

† Needles.

+ Wry faces,

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 Ethiop!

Dem. No, no, Sir-he will

Seem to break loose; take on, as you 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 potion, 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 erewhile.

Since night, you loved 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 juggler! you canker-blossom!*

You thief of love! what, have you come by night
And stol'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 way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures, she hath urged 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;

* A worm that preys on buds of flowers.

How low am I? 1 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 cowardice;

Let her not strike me: You, perhaps, may think,
Because she's something lower than myself,
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 unto this 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 fondt 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 shall 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.

et her alone; speak not of Helena;

Take not her part: for if thou dost intend§

Never so little show of love to her,

Thou shalt aby it.

Lys. Now she holds me not;

Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right,

Or thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Dem. Follow ? nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl.

[Exeunt Lys. and DEM.

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

*Shrewish or mischievous.

† Foolish.

Anciently knot-grass was believed to prevent the growth of children.

§ Pretend.

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.
Her. I am amazed, and know not what to say.

[Exit.

[Exit, pursuing HELENA.

Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistak'st,
Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully.

Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me I should know the man
By the Athenian garments he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprise,
That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes:
And so far am I glad it so did sort,*

As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Obe. Thou seest, these lovers seek a place to fight:
Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;

The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;
And lead these testy rivals so astray,
As one come not within another's way.
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
And from each other look thou lead them thus
Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:
Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,t
To take from thence all error, with his might,
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream, and fruitless vision;
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,‡
With league, whose date till death shall never end.
Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charmed eye release
From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste;
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
Obe. But we are spirits of another sort:

I with the Morning's love have oft made sport;

* Happen.

+ Medicinal efficacy.

+ Go.