Hel. O fpight! O hell! I fee, you all are bent
To fet against me, for your merriment.
If you were civil, and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join, in fouls, to mock me too?
If

you were men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle lady fo;

To vow, and fwear, and fuperpraise my parts,
When, I am fure, 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 derifion! none, of nobler fort,
Would fo offend a virgin; and extort.
A poor foul's patience, all to make you sport.

Lyf. 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 wafte more idle breath.
Dem. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.

My heart with her but, as guest-wife, fojourn'd;
And now to Helen it is home return'd,
There to remain.

Lyf. Helen, it is not fo.

Dem. Difparage not the faith thou doft not know, Left, 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 apprehenfion makes; Wherein it doth impair the feeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompence :

Thou

Thou art not by mine eye, Lyfander, found;
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy found..
But why unkindly didft thou leave me fo?

Lyf. Why fhould he stay, whom love doth prefs to go? Her. What love could prefs Lyfander from my fide? Lyf. Lyfander'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 feek'st thou me? could not this make thee know,

The hate I bear thee made me leave thee fo?

Her. You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
Hel. Lo, the is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin'd, all three,
To fashion this falfe fport in fpight of me.
Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
Have you confpir'd, have you with these contriv'd
To bait me with this foul derifion?

Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
The fifters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hafty-footed time
For parting us,-O, and is all forgot?
All fchool-day friendship, childhood innocence ?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our neelds created both one flower,
Both on one fampler, fitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one fong, both in one key;
As if our hands, our fides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, feeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries molded on one stem:
So, with two feeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the firft, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one creft.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in fcorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:
Our fex, as well as I, may chide you for it;
Though I alone do feel the injury.

Her. I am amazed at your paffionate words:

I fcorn

I fcorn you not; it seems that you scorn me.
Hel. Have you not fet Lyfander, as in scorn,
To follow me, and praife 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 Lyfander
Deny your love, so rich within his foul,
And tender me, forfooth, affection;
But by your fetting on, by your confent?
What though I be not fo in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate;
But miferable most, to love unlov'd?
This you fhould pity, rather than despise.
Her. I underftand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do, perfevere, counterfeit fad looks,
'Make mouths upon me when I turn my back;
Wink at each other; hold the sweet jeft up:
This fport, well carry'd, fhall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,

You would not make me fuch an argument.
But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault;
Which death, or absence, soon fhall remedy.

Lyf. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my foul, fair Helena !
Hel. O excellent!

Her. Sweet, do not fcorn her fo.

Dem. If the cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lyf. Thou canst compel no more than the entreat; Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers. Helen, I love thee; by my life I do;

I fwear by that which I will lofe for thee,

To prove him false, that says I love thee not.
Dem. I fay, I love thee more than he can do.

Lyf. If thou fay fo, withdraw, and prove it too.
Dem. Quick, come,-

Her. Lyfander, whereto tends all this?

Lyf. Away, you Ethiop!

Dem. No, no, Sir, he'll

Seem

Seem to break loofe; take on, as you would follow;
But yet come not: You are a tame man, go!

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

Her. Why are you grown fo rude? what change is this, Sweet love?

Lyf. Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out!

Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!
Her. Do you not jest?

Hel. Yes, 'footh; and fo do you.

Lyf. 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 truft your word. Lyf. What, fhould I hurt her, ftrike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harın her fo.

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 Lyfander?

I am as fair now, as I was erewhile.

Since night, you lov'd me; yet, fince night, you
Why, then you left me,

In earnest, fhall I say?

Lyf. Ay, by my life;

the gods forbid!

And never did defire 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.

left me:

Her. O me! you juggler! oh, you canker-bloffom! You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And ftol'n my love's heart from him?

Hel. Fine, i'faith!

Have you no modefty, no maiden fhame,

No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!

the

game.

Her. Puppet! why fo? Ay, that way goes
Now I perceive that the hath made compare
Between our ftatures; the hath urg'd her height;
And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage,
Her height, forfooth, the hath prevail'd with him.-
E

And

And are you grown fo high in his esteem,
Because I am fo dwarfish, and fo low?

How low am I, thou painted maypole? fpeak;
How low am I? I am not yet fo 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 fomething lower than myself,
That I can match her.

Her. Lower! hark, again.

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be fo bitter with me
I evermore did love you, Hermia,

Did ever keep your counfels, 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 ftrike me, fpurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, fo you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further: Let me go:
You fee how fimple 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 Lyfander?

Hel. With Demetrius.

Lyf Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena. Dem. No, Sir; fhe fhall not, though you take her part. Hel. O; when the's angry, the is keen and fhrewd;

She was a vixen, when the went to school;

And, though the be but little, fhe is fierce.
Her. Little again! nothing but low and little!
Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus ?

Let me come to her.

Lyf. Get you gone, you dwarf;

You minimus, of hind'ring knot-grafs made;
You bead, you acorn.

Dem