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Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.
Lyf. I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Hel. Nor none in my mind now you give her o'er.
Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddefs, nymph, perfect,

To what, my love, fhall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy; O how ripe in fhow

Thy lips, thofe kiffing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' Inow
Fann'd with the eastern wind turns to a crow
When thou hold'ft up thy hand. O let me kifs
This pureness of pure white, this feal of blifs.
Hel. O fpight, O hell! I fee you all are bent
To fet againft me for your merriment:
If you were civil, and knew courtefie,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join in flouts to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in fhow,
You would not ufe a gentle lady fo:
To vow and fwear, and fuper-praise 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 enterprize,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes
With your derifion! none of noble 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 fo,
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,
When 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 c'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.




My heart to her but as gueft-wife fojourn'd,

And now to Helen it is home return'd,

There ever to remain.

Lyf. It is not fo.

Dem. Difparage not the faith thou doft not know,
Left to thy peril thou abide it dear.

Look where thy love comes, yonder is thy dear.
SCENE VIII. Enter Hermia.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes. Wherein it doth impair the seeing fenfe, It pays the hearing double recompence. 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 should 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'ft thou me? could not this make thee know,
The hate I bear thee made me leave thee fo?

Her. You fpeak not as you think it cannot be
Hel. Lo, fhe is one of this confed'racy
Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three,
(To fashion this falfe fport in fpight of me.
Injurious Hermia, moft 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-days friendship, childhood innocence ?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Created with our needles 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 incorp'rate. So we grew together,

Like to a double cherry, feeming parted,
But yet an union in partition,

Two lovely berries molded on one stem;
Or with two seeming bodies, but one heart,
Two of the firft*, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one creft.
And will you rend our ancient love afunder,
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.

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Her. Helen, I am amazed at your words:
I fcorn you not; it seems that you fcorn me.
Hel. Have you not fet Lyfander, as in fcorn,
To follow me, and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius

(Who even but now did fpurn me with his foot)
To call me goddefs, nymph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celeftial?" wherefore fpeaks he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lyfander
Deny your love, fo 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, fo fortunate;
But miferable moft, to love unlov'd?
This you should pity rather than despise.

Her. I underftand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do, perfever, counterfeit fad looks,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
Wink each at other, hold the fweet jeft up:
This fport well carried 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 abfence foon fhall remedy.
Lyf. Stay, gentle Helena, hear my excufe;
Mylove, my life, my foul, fair Helena.

* A term used in'l azoning, when two coats of Arms are quater'd together, and the fecond is the fame as the fift.


Hel. O excellent!

Her, Sweet, do not fcorn her fo.

Dem. If the cannot intreat, I can compel.

Lyf. Thou canft compel no more than the entreat. Thy threats have no more ftrength than her weak pray'rs. Helen, I love thee, by my life I do;

I fwear by that which I will lofe for thee,"
To prove him falfe that fays 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 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.

Lyf. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr; vile thing, let loofe,

Or I will shake thee from me like a ferpent.

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

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Lyf. Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out; Out, loathed medicine; hated poifon, hence! Her. Do you not jeft?

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 harm, her fo.

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Her. What greater harm can you do me 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 ere-while.

Since night you lov'd me; yet fince night you left me: Why then you left me (O the gods forbid!)

In earnest, fhall I say?

Lyf. Ay, by my life,

And never did defire to fee thee more..

Therefore be out of hope, of queftion, doubt;

Be certain, nothing truer;


'tis no jest,



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That I do hate thee and love Helena.

Her. O me, you jugler, 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.

Her. Puppet! why fo? ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures'; the hath urg'd her height,
And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage,
Her height, forfooth, the hath prevail'd with him.
And are you grown fo high in his esteem,
Because I am fo dwarfish and fo low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak,
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 curft;

I have no gift at all in fhrewishness;

I am a right maid for my cowardife

Let her not ftrike me.

You perhaps may think,

Because fhe'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 into the 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?


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