Puck. This is the woman; but not this the man. Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. The sun was not so true unto the day As he to me. Would he have stolen away It cannot be but thou hast murdered him; Dem. So should the murdered look, and so should I, Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then? And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch! Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? I am not guilty of Lysander's blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well. Dem. An if I could, what should I get there fore? Her. A privilege never to see me more.And from thy hated presence part I so; See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein: Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; Which now in some slight measure it will pay, [Lies down. Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite, And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight: Of thy misprision must perforce ensue Some true-love turned, and not a false turned true. Puck. Then fate o'errules, that, one man holding ⚫ troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find : All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear. Puck. I go, I go; look how I go, Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit. Obe. Flower of this purple die, Hit with Cupid's archery, [Squeezes the flower on Demetrius's eyelids Sink in apple of his eye! When his love he doth espy, Let her shine as gloriously * As the Venus of the sky. When thou wak'st, if she be by, Re-enter PUCK Puck. Captain of our fairy band, And the youth, mistook by me, Shall we their fond pageant see —— Lord what fools these mortals be! Puck. Then will two at once woo one,— And those things do best please me Enter LYSANDER and HELENA Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears : How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more. When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray! These vows are Hermia's: will you give her o'er ? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: Your vows, to her and me, put in two scales, Lys. I had no judgment, when to her I swore. Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er. Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Dem. [Awaking.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! Hel. O spite! O hell! I see, you all are bent To set against me, for your merriment: If you were civil and knew courtesy You would not do me thus much injury. you not hate me, as I know you do, Can |