you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so;
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 noble 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 till my death.
Hel.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Dem.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none.
If e’er I lov’d her, all that love is gone.
My heart to 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 conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us—O, is all forgot?
All school-days friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our needles 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 an 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
