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 carcase to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'st me past the bounds

Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men!
Oh! once tell true, tell true, even for my sake;
Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake,
And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? 2 O brave touch! 3
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

3

Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood: "

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 therefore?
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,

If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down.
Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight:

2 Durst thou have look'd upon him, being awake,

And hast thou kill'd him sleeping?] Hast thou kill'd him sleeping, whom, when awake, thou didst not dare to look upon?

3 O brave touch!] Touch in Shakspeare's time was the same with our exploit, or rather stroke: but a touch anciently signified a trick. on a mispris'd mood:] is put for "in a mispris'd mood;" i. e. " in a mistaken manner."

4

4

VOL. II.

Of thy misprision must perforce ensue

Some true-love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true. Puck. Then fate o'er-rules; 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 cheer4

With sighs of love, that cost the fresh blood dear:
By some illusion see thou bring her here;
I'll charm his eyes, against she do appear.
Puck. I go, I go; look, how I go;

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
Obe. Flower of this purple die,

Hit with Cupid's archery,

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
Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter PUCK.

Puck. Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand,

4

And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee;

Shall we their fond pageant see?

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Obe. Stand aside: the noise they make,

Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once, woo one;

That must needs be sport alone;

And those things do best please me,

That befal preposterously.

[Exit.

pale of cheer-] Cheer, from the Italian cara, is frequently

used by the old English writers for countenance.

Enter LYSANDER and HELena.

Lys. Why should you think, that I should woo in scorn?

Scorn and derision never come in tears:

Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.

How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true? 5

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,
Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
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?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, 6
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow,
When thou hold'st up thy hand: O let me kiss
This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
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.

5 Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?] In allusion to the badges (i. e. family crests) anciently worn on the sleeves of servants and retainers.

6

Taurus' snow,] Taurus is the name of a range of mountains in Asia.

Can you

not hate me, as I know you do, But you must join, in souls 7, to mock me too? If 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 enterprize,
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 to 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 with 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, and is all forgot? +

All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,

Have with our neelds' 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 a 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,

· all yon fiery oes-] Shakspeare uses O for a circle.

+" O, now, is all forgot?" MALONE.

9

artificial gods,] Artificial is ingenious, artful.

1 Have with our neelds, &c.] or needles.