A Midsummer Night's Dream: Lovers' quarrel
“O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!”
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Transcript
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Look when I vow, I weep;
Oh, for God’s sake.
and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
You do advance your cunning more and more.
These vows are Hermia’s. Will you give her o’er?
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
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!
O spite! O hell! I see you both 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,
O spite! O hell! I see you both 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?
Enough!
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.
Oh, I would never do that!
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.
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.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
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,
Shut up and kiss me.
That’s enough, boys.
And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.
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,
Shut up and kiss me.
That’s enough, boys.
And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.
Helen, it is not so.
Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Look when I vow, I weep;
Oh, for God’s sake.
and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
You do advance your cunning more and more.
These vows are Hermia’s. Will you give her o’er?
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
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!
O spite! O hell! I see you both 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,
O spite! O hell! I see you both 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?
Enough!
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.
Oh, I would never do that!
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.
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.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
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,
Shut up and kiss me.
That’s enough, boys.
And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.
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,
Shut up and kiss me.
That’s enough, boys.
And now to Helen is it home returned,
There to remain.
Helen, it is not so.