But hast thou yet latched the Athenian’s eyes

With the love juice, as I did bid thee do?

ROBIN

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.

ROBIN

This is the woman, but not this the man.

They step aside.

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, hast 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 murdered 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 numbered 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 therefor?

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.

She exits.

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.

He lies down and falls asleep.

OBERON, to Robin

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.

ROBIN

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.

ROBIN I go, I go, look how I go,

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.      He exits.

OBERON, applying the nectar to Demetrius’ eyes

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 Robin.

ROBIN

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.

ROBIN

Then will two at once woo one.

That must needs be sport alone.

And those things do best please me

That befall prepost’rously.

They step aside.

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 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.

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, waking up

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,

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 merriment.

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 goodwill, 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 guest-wise 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, to Lysander

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.