Page:Midsummer Night's Dream (1918) Yale.djvu/39

Night's Dream, II. ii  

Hel. 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 blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears: If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd 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.

Lys. [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.

Hel. 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.

Lys. 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 sway'd, And reason says you are the worthier maid. Things growing are not ripe until their season;  88 fond: foolish; also, loving 89 grace: good fortune 99 sphery: starry 