A Midsummer Night's Dream Part 7

A trim exploit, a manly enterprize, To coniure teares vp in a poore maids eyes, With your derision; none of n.o.ble sort, Would so offend a Virgin, and extort A poore soules patience, all to make you sport, Lysa. You are vnkind Demetrius; be not so, For you loue Hermia; this you know I know; And here with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermias loue I yeeld you vp my part; And yours of Helena, To me bequeath, Whom I do loue, and will do to my death

Hel. Neuer did mockers wast more idle breth

Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia, I will none: If ere I lou'd her, all that loue is gone.

My heart to her, but as guest-wise soiourn'd, And now to Helen it is home return'd, There to remaine

Lys. It is not so

De. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest to thy perill thou abide it deare.

Looke where thy Loue comes, yonder is thy deare.

Enter Hermia.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The eare more quicke of apprehension makes, Wherein it doth impaire the seeing sense, It paies the hearing double recompence.

Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found, Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that sound.

But why vnkindly didst thou leaue me so?

Lysan. Why should hee stay whom Loue doth presse to go?

Her. What loue could presse Lysander from my side?

Lys. Lysanders loue (that would not let him bide) Faire Helena; who more engilds the night, Then all yon fierie oes, and eies of light.

Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know, The hate I bare thee, made me leaue thee so?

Her. You speake not as you thinke; it cannot be

Hel. Loe, she is one of this confederacy, Now I perceiue they haue conioyn'd all three, To fas.h.i.+on this false sport in spight of me.

Iniurous Hermia, most vngratefull maid, Haue you conspir'd, haue you with these contriu'd To baite me, with this foule derision?

Is all the counsell that we two haue shar'd, The sisters vowes, the houres that we haue spent, When wee haue chid the hasty footed time, For parting vs; O, is all forgot?

All schooledaies friends.h.i.+p, child-hood innocence?

We Hermia, like two Artificiall G.o.ds, Haue with our needles, created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cus.h.i.+on, Both warbling of one song, both in one key: As if our hands, our sides, voices, and mindes Had beene incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet a vnion in part.i.tion, Two louely 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 rent our ancient loue asunder, To ioyne with men in scorning your poore friend?

It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.

Our s.e.xe as well as I, may chide you for it, Though I alone doe feele the iniurie

Her. I am amazed at your pa.s.sionate words, I scorne you not; It seemes that you scorne me

Hel. Haue you not set Lysander, as in scorne To follow me, and praise my eies and face?

And made your other loue, Demetrius (Who euen but now did spurne me with his foote) To call me G.o.ddesse, nimph, diuine, and rare, Precious, celestiall? Wherefore speakes he this To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander Denie your loue (so rich within his soule) 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 vpon with loue, so fortunate?

(But miserable most, to loue vnlou'd) This you should pittie, rather then despise

Her. I vnderstand not what you meane by this

Hel. I, doe, perseuer, counterfeit sad lookes, Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe, Winke each at other, hold the sweete iest vp: This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.

If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument: But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault, Which death or absence soone shall remedie

Lys. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuse, My loue, my life, my soule, faire Helena

Hel. O excellent!

Her. Sweete, do not scorne her so

Dem. If she cannot entreate, I can compell

Lys. Thou canst compell, no more then she entreate.

Thy threats haue no more strength then her weak praise.

Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe; I sweare by that which I will lose for thee, To proue him false, that saies I loue thee not

Dem. I say, I loue thee more then he can do

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

Dem. Quick, come

Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?

Lys. Away, you Ethiope

Dem. No, no, Sir, seeme to breake loose; Take on as you would follow, But yet come not: you are a tame man, go

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

Her. Why are you growne so rude?

What change is this sweete Loue?

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

Her. Do you not iest?

Hel. Yes sooth, and so do you

Lys. Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee

Dem. I would I had your bond: for I perceiue A weake bond holds you; Ile not trust your word

Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?

Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so

Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate?

Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Loue?

Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?

I am as faire now, as I was ere while.

Since night you lou'd me: yet since night you left me.

Why then you left me (O the G.o.ds forbid) In earnest, shall I say?

Lys. I, by my life; And neuer did desire to see thee more.

Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt; Be certaine, nothing truer: 'tis no iest, That I do hate thee, and loue Helena

Her. O me, you iugler, you canker blossome, You theefe of loue; What, haue you come by night, And stolne my loues heart from him?

Hel. Fine yfaith: Haue you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulnesse? What, will you teare Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?

Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you

Her. Puppet? why so? I, that way goes the game.

Now I perceiue that she hath made compare Betweene our statures, she hath vrg'd her height, And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height (forsooth) she hath preuail'd with him.

And are you growne so high in his esteeme, Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?

How low am I, thou painted May-pole? Speake, How low am I? I am not yet so low, But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes

Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me; I was neuer curst: I haue no gift at all in shrewishnesse; I am a right maide for my cowardize; Let her not strike me: you perhaps may thinke, Because she is something lower then my selfe, That I can match her