HERMIA

So is Lysander. I would my father looked but with my eyes. I do entreat your grace, to pardon me. I know not by what power, I am made bold; Nor how it may concern my modesty, In such a presence, here to plead my thoughts: But I beseech your Grace, that I may know The worst that may befall me in this case, If I refuse to wed Demetrius. Belike, for want of rain: which I could well Beteem them, from the tempest of my eyes. Oh cross! too high to be inthrald to love. Oh spite! too old to be engaged to young. Oh hell, to choose love by another's eyes! If then true lovers have been ever crossed. It stands as and edict, in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience: Because it is a customary cross, As dew to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears; poor Fancies followers. My good Lysander, I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow, By his best arrow, with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus doves, By that which knits souls, and prospers loves, And by that fire, which burned the Carthage queen, When the false Trojan under sail was seen, By all the vows that ever men have broke, (In number more then ever women spoke) In that same place thou hast appointed me, To morrow truly will I meet with thee. God speed fair Helena : wither away? I frown upon him; yet he loves me still. I give him curses; yet he gives me love. The more I hate, the more he follows me. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face: Lysander and my self will sly this place. Before the time I did Lysander see, Seemed Athens as a Paradise to me. Oh then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell! And in the wood, where often you and I, Upon faint Primrose beds, were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms, of their counsel swelled, There my Lysander, and my self shall meet, And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and strange companions. Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us: And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius. Keep word Lysander : we must starve our sighed, From lovers food, till morrow deep midnight. Bet it so Lysander : find you out a bed: For I, upon this bank, will rest my head. Nay God Lysander: for my sake, my deer Lie further off, yet; do not lie so near. Lysander riddles very prettily. Now much be shrew my manners, and my pride, If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied. But gentle friend, for love and courtesy, Lie further off, in humane 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 never altar till thy sweet life end. With half that wish, the wishers eyes be pressed. 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. Me thought, a serpent eat my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel pray. Lysander what, removed? Lysander, Lord, What, out of hearing, gone? No found, no word? Alack where are you? Speak, and 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. Now I but chide: but I should use thee worse. For thou (I fear) hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast stain Lysander, in his sleep; Being over shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, & kill me to. The Sun was not so true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have stolen away, Frow sleeping Hermia? I'll believe, as soon, This whole earth may be bored, and that the Moon May through the Centre creep, and so displease Her brother's noontide, with the Antipodes. It cannot be, but thou hast murdered him. So should a murderer look; so dead, so grim. Whats this to my Lysander? Where is he? Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? Out dog, out cur: thou drivest me passed the bounds Of maidens patience. Hast thou slain him then? Henceforth be never numbered among men. Oh, once tell true: tell true, even for my sake: Durst thou have looked upon him, being awake? And hast thou killed him, sleeping? Oh brave touch! Could not a worm, and Adder do so much? And Adder did it: For with doubler tongue Then thine (thou serpent) never Adder stung. I pray thee, tell me then, that he is well. A privilege, never to see me more: And from thy hated presence partly I: see me no more; Whither he be dead or no. Exit. Dark night, that from the eye, his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes. Wherein it does 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 found. But why, unkindly, didst thou leave me so? What love could press Lysander, from my side? You speak not as you think: It cannot be. I am amazed at your words: I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me, I understand not, what you mean by this Lysander, whereto tends all this? Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love? Do you not jest? What? Can you do me greater harm, then hate? Hate me, wherefore? Oh me, what news, my love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander ? I am as fair now, as I was ere while. 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? Oh me, you juggler, you canker blossom, You thief of love: what, have you come by night, And stolen my loves heart, from him? Puppet? Why so? I, 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. Lower? hark again. What, with Lysander? Little again? Nothing hut low and little? Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her. You, mistress, all this coil is long of you. Nay: go not back. I am amazed, and know not what to say. Exeunt. Never so weary, never so in woe, Be dabbled with the dew, and torn with briers: I can no further crawl, no further go: My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me, till the break of day: Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray. Me thinks I see these things, with parted eye, When every thing seems double. Yea, and my father. So will I grow, so live, so die my Lord, Ere I will yield my virgin Patent, up Unto his Lordship, whose unwished yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty. Sweet, do not scorn her so. Why? get you gone. Who is't that hinders you?