Shakespeare's First Folio
Chapter 141 : Lys. Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out; Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence Her.

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

Her. Lower? harke againe

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me, I euermore did loue you Hermia, Did euer keepe your counsels, neuer wronged you, Saue that in loue vnto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth vnto this wood.

He followed you, for loue I followed him, But he hath chid me hence, and threatned me To strike me, spurne me, nay to kill me too; And now, so you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I beare my folly backe, And follow you no further. Let me go.

You see how simple, and how fond I am

Her. Why get you gone: who ist that hinders you?

Hel. A foolish heart, that I leaue here behinde

Her. What, with Lysander?

Her. With Demetrius

Lys. Be not afraid, she shall not harme thee Helena

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

Hel. O when she's angry, she is keene and shrewd, She was a vixen when she went to schoole, And though she be but little, she is fierce

Her. Little againe? Nothing but low and little?

Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?

Let me come to her

Lys. Get you gone you dwarfe, You minimus, of hindring knot-gra.s.se made, You bead, you acorne

Dem. You are too officious, In her behalfe that scornes your seruices.

Let her alone, speake not of Helena, Take not her part. For if thou dost intend Neuer so little shew of loue to her, Thou shalt abide it

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

Dem. Follow? Nay, Ile goe with thee cheeke by iowle.

Exit Lysander and Demetrius.

Her. You Mistris, all this coyle is long of you.

Nay, goe not backe

Hel. I will not trust you I, Nor longer stay in your curst companie.

Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray, My legs are longer though to runne away.

Enter Oberon and Pucke.

Ob. This is thy negligence, still thou mistak'st, Or else committ'st thy knaueries willingly

Puck. Beleeue me, King of shadowes, I mistooke, Did not you tell me, I should know the man, By the Athenian garments he hath on?

And so farre blamelesse proues my enterprize, That I haue nointed an Athenians eies, And so farre am I glad, it so did sort, As this their iangling I esteeme a sport

Ob. Thou seest these Louers seeke a place to fight, Hie therefore Robin, ouercast the night, The starrie Welkin couer thou anon, With drooping fogge as blacke as Acheron, And lead these testie Riuals so astray, As one come not within anothers way.

Like to Lysander, sometime frame thy tongue, Then stirre Demetrius vp with bitter wrong; And sometime raile thou like Demetrius; And from each other looke thou leade them thus, Till ore their browes, death-counterfeiting, sleepe With leaden legs, and Battie-wings doth creepe: Then crush this hearbe into Lysanders eie, Whose liquor hath this vertuous propertie, To take from thence all error, with his might, and make his eie-bals role with wonted sight.

When they next wake, all this derision Shall seeme a dreame, and fruitless vision, And backe to Athens shall the Louers wend With league, whose date till death shall neuer end.

Whiles I in this affaire do thee imploy, Ile to my Queene, and beg her Indian Boy; And then I will her charmed eie release From monsters view, and all things shall be peace

Puck. My Fairie Lord, this must be done with haste, For night-swift Dragons cut the Clouds full fast, And yonder s.h.i.+nes Auroras harbinger; At whose approach Ghosts wandring here and there, Troope home to Church-yards; d.a.m.ned spirits all, That in crosse-waies and flouds haue buriall, Alreadie to their wormie beds are gone; For feare least day should looke their shames vpon, They wilfully themselues exile from light, And must for aye consort with blacke browd night

Ob. But we are spirits of another sort: I, with the mornings loue haue oft made sport, And like a Forrester, the groues may tread, Euen till the Easterne gate all fierie red, Opening on Neptune, With faire blessed beames, Turnes into yellow gold, his salt greene streames.

But not withstanding haste, make no delay: We may effect this businesse, yet ere day

Puck. Vp and downe, vp and downe, I will leade them vp and downe: I am fear'd in field and towne.

Goblin, lead them vp and downe: here comes one.

Enter Lysander.

Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius?

Speake thou now

Rob. Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou?

Lys. I will be with thee straight

Rob. Follow me then to plainer ground.

Enter Demetrius.