A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,
To conjure tears up in a poor inaid'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.

8

Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thec 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,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest 2

9

all yon fiery oes-] Shakspeare uses O for a circle. artificial gods,] Artificial is ingenious, artful.

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

2 Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,

Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.] Helena means to say, that she and her friend were as closely united, as much one person, as if they were both of the first house; as if they both had the privilege due but to one person, (viz. to him of the first house,)

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 made your other love, Demetrius,
(Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,)
To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
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 upon with love, so fortunate;
But miserable most, to love unlov'd?
This you should pity, rather than despise.
Her. I understand not what you mean by this.
Hel. Ay, do, perséver, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mows upon me when I turn my back;
Wink at each other; hold the sweet jest up:
This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument."
But, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine own fault;
Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.

Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
Hel. O excellent!

the right of bearing the family coat without any distinguishing mark. MALONE.

3

sush an argument.] Such a subject of light merriment.

Her.

Sweet, do not scorn her so. Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel. Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she en

treat;

Thy threats have no more strength, than her weak prayers.

Helen, I love thee; by my life I do;

I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
To prove him false, that says I love thee not.
Dem. I say, I love thee more than he can do.
Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Dem. Quick, come,-

Her.

Lysander, whereto tends all this?

Lys. Away, you Ethiop! Dem. No, no, sir:-he will* Seem to break loose; take on, as you would follow; But yet come not: You are a tame man, go! Lys. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr: vile thing let loose;

Or I will shake thee from me, like a serpent. Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this,

Sweet love?

Lys.

Thy love? out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence! Her. Do you not jest?

you.

Hel. Yes, 'sooth; and so do Lys. 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 trust your word.

4 No, no, sir:-he will, &c.] The only difficulty in this passage arises from the words-he will, sir, which are omitted in the second folio. In that edition it runs thus:

"No, no, sir, seeme to breake loose;

"Take on as you would follow,

"But yet come not: you are a tame man, go." This appears to me the true reading. M. MASON,

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

Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Her. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate?

Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news my love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?

I am as fair now, as I was erewhile.

Since night, you lov'd me; yet, since night you left me:

Why, then you left me,-O, the gods forbid!In earnest, shall I say?

Lys.

Ay, by my life;

And never did desire to see thee more.

Therefore, be out of hope, of question, doubt,
Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest,

That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And stol'n my love's heart from him?

Hel. Fine, i'faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you! Her. Puppet! why so? Ay, that way goes the

game.

Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures, she hath urg'd her height;
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with
him.-

And are you grown so high in his esteem,
Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;
How low am I? I am not yet so low,

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes,