Enter Lysander and Hermia.

Lysander: Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood;
And to speak troth, I have forgot our way.
We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.

Hermia: Be't so, Lysander. Find you out a bed;
For I upon this bank will rest my head.

Lysander: One turf shall serve as pillow for us both,
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

Hermia: Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

Lysander: O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
Love takes the meaning in love's conference.
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit,
So that but one heart we can make of it:
Two bosoms interchaine`d with an oath;
So then two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny,
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.

Hermia: Lysander riddles very prettily.
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
Lie further off, in human modesty.
Such separation as may well be said
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend.
Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!

Lysander: Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I,
And then end life when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest!

Hermia: With half that wish the wisher's eyes be pressed! [They sleep.]

Enter Puck.

Puck: Through the forest I have gone,
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence.--Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despise`d the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! She durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.
So awake when I am gone,
For I must now to Oberon. [Exit.]

Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.

Helena: Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.

Demetrius: I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

Helena: O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.

Demetrius: Stay, on they peril! I alone will go. [Exit]

Helena: O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies,
For she hath blesse`d and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears.
If so, my eyes are oft'ner washed than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,
For beasts that meet me run away for fear.
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander! On the ground!
Dead? Or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.

Lysander: [Awaking.] And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
Transparent Helena! Nature shows art,
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name to perish on my sword!

Helena: Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.

Lysander: Content with Hermia! No; I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia but Helena I love:
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason swayed
And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season:
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
Love's stories, written in love's richest book.

Helena: Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well. Perforce I must confess
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
O, that a lady, of one man refused,
Should of another therefore be abused! [Exit.]

Lysander: She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there,
And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive,
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
Of all be hated, but the most of me!
And, all my powers, address your love and might
To honor Helen and to be her knight! [Exit.]

Hermia: [Awakening.] Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear.
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.
Lysander! What, removed? Lysander! Lord!
What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear;
Speak of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh.
Either death or you I'll find immediately. [Exit.]

--William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream; II.ii.35-155

---

Oberon: This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latched the Athenian's eyes
With the love juice, as I did bid thee do?

Puck: I took him sleeping--that is finished too--
And the Athenian woman by his side;
That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

Oberon: Stand close: this is the same Athenian.

Puck: This is the woman, but not this the man.

Demetrius: O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Hermia: Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,
For thou, I fear, has given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me. Would he have stolen away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon
This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon
May through the center creep, and so displease
Her brother's noontide with th' Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murd'red him.
So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

Demetrius: 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.

Hermia: What's this to my Lysander? Where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

Demetrius: I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.

Hermia: Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv'st me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
Henceforth be never numb'red among men!
O once, tell true! Tell true, even for my sake!
Durst thou have looked upon him being awake?
And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

Demetrius: You spend your passion on a misprised mood:
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

Hermia: I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

Demetrius: An if I could, what should I get therefore?

Hermia: 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.]

Demetrius: 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 bankrout sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lie down and sleep.]

Oberon: What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite,
And laid the love juice on some truelove'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.

Oberon: 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 costs 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 the arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit.]

Oberon: Flower of this purple dye,
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.

Enter Puck. Puck: Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Oberon: 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 befall prepost'rously.

Enter Lysander and Helena.

Lysander: 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?

Helena: You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
These vows are Hermia's: will 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.

Lysander: I had no judgment when to her I swore.

Helena: Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.

Lysander: Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.

Demetrius: [Awakening.] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compaire thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congeale`d white, high Taurus' snow,
Fanned 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!

Helena: O, spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me for your merriement:
If you were civil, and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join in souls 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 enterprise,
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.

Lysander: 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 till my death.

Helena: Never did mockers waste more idle breath.

Demetrius: Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none.
If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone.
My heart to her but as guestwise sojourned,
And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.

Lysander           Helen, it is not so.

Demetrius: 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.

Hermia: 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?

Lysander: Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?

Hermia: What love could press Lysander from my side?

Lysander: 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?

Hermia: You speak not as you think: it cannot be.

Helena: Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoined all three
To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.
Injuious Hermia! Most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us--O, is all forgot?
All school days friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our needles 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 an union in partition;
Two lovely berries molded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of us at first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowne`d with one crest.
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.

Hermia: I am amaze`d at your passionate words.
I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me.

Helena: 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 unloved?
This you should pity rather than despise.

Hermia: I understand not what you mean by this.

Helena: Ay, do! Persever, counterfeit sad looks,
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back;
Wink each at 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 my own fault,
Which death or absence soon shall remedy.

Lysander: Stay, gentle Helena: hear my excuse:
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!

Helena: O excellent!

Hermia:           Sweet, do not scorn her so.

Demetrius: If she cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lysander: Thou canst compel no more than she entreat.
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.

Demetrius: I say I love thee more than he can do.

Lysander: If thou say so, withdraw and prove it too.

Demetrius: Quick, come!

Hermia:             Lysander, whereto tends all this?

Lysander: Away, you Ethiope!

Demetrius :             No, no; he'll
Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow,
But yet come not: you are a tame man, go!

Lysander : Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!

Hermia: Why are you grown so rude! What change is this,
Sweet love?

Lysander:             Thy love! Out, tawny Tartar, out!
Out, loathe`d med'cine! O hated potion, hence!

Hermia: Do you not jest?

Helena:             Yes, sooth; and so do you.

Lysander: Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

Demetrius: I would I had your bond, for I perceive
A weak bond holds you. I'll not trust your word.

Lysander: What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Hermia: 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 loved me; yet since night you left me.
Why, then you left me--O, the gods forbid!--
In earnest, shall I say?

Lysander:             Ay, by my life!
And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
Be certain, nothing truer. 'Tis no jest
That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

Hermia: 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?

Helena:             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!

Hermia: Puppet? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urged her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed 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.

Helena: I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me. I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
I am a right maid for my cowardice.
Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
Because she is something lower than myself,
That I can match her.

Hermia:             Lower! Hark, again!

Helena: Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
I evermore did love you, Hermia,
Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you;
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He followed you; for love I followed him.
But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too.
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further. Let me go.
You see how simple and how fond I am.

Hermia: Why, get you gone. Who is't that hinders you?

Helena: A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.

Hermia: What, with Lysander?

Helena:             With Demetrius.

Lysander: Be not afraid. She shall not harm thee, Helena.

Demetrius: No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.

Helena: O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she be but little, she is fierce.

Hermia: "Little" again! Nothing but "low" and "little"?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.

Lysander: Get you gone, you dwarf;
You minimus, of hind'ring knotgrass made;
You bead, you acorn!

Demetrius: You are too officious
In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone. Speak not of Helena;
Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend
Never so little show of love to her,
Thou shalt aby it.

Lysander:             Now she holds me not.
Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Demetrius: Follow! Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl.

[Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius.]

Hermia: You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you:
Nay, go not back.

Helena:             I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though, to run away.

Hermia: I am amazed, and know not what to say.

[Exeunt Helena and Hermia.]

Oberon: This is thy negligence. Still thou mistak'st,
Or else committ'st thy knaveries willfully.

Puck: Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me I should know the man
By the Athenian garments he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprise,
That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes;
And so far am I glad it so did sort,
As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Oberon: Thou see'st these lovers seek a place to fight.
Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night.
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron;
And lead these testy rivals so astray,
As one come not within another's way.
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius.
And from each other look thou lead them thus,
Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep,
Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye,
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from thence all error with his might,
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision,
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
With league whose date till death shall never end.
Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charme`d eye release
From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.

Puck: My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;
At whose approach, ghosts, wand'ring here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damne`d spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They willfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-browed night.

Oberon: But we are spirits of another sort.
I with the Morning's love have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all firey-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blesse`d beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay.
We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit.]

Puck: Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down:
I am feared in field and town:
Goblin, lead them up and down.
Here comes one.

Enter Lysander.

Lysander: Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.

Puck: Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?

Lysander: I will be with thee straight.

Puck:             Follow me, then,
To plainer ground. [Exit Lysander.]

Enter Demetrius

Demetrius:             Lysander! Speak again!
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

Puck: Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,
And will not come? Come, recreant! Come, thou child!
I'll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled
That draws a sword on thee.

Demetrius:             Yea, art thou there?

Puck: Follow my voice. We'll try no manhood here. Exeunt

[Enter Lysander.]

Lysander: He goes before me and still dares me go on:
When I am come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter-heeled than I.
I followed fast, but faster he did fly,
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
And here will rest me. [Lies down.] Come, thou gentle day!
For if but once thou show me thy gray light,
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.]