753728What wicked and dissembling glasse, of mine,

754729Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyen!

755730But, who is here? Lysander, on the ground?

756731Dead, or a sleepe? I see no blood, no wound.

757732Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake.

758733Lys. And runne through fire, I will for thy sweete sake.

759734Transparent Helena, nature shewes arte,

760735That through thy bosome, makes me see thy heart.

761736Where is Demetrius? Oh how fit a word

762737Is that vile name, to perish on my sworde!

763738Hel. Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.

764739What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?

765740Yet Hermia still loues you: then be content.

766741Lys. Content with Hermia? No: I doe repent

767742The tedious minutes, I with her haue spent.

768743Not Hermia, but Helena I loue.

769744VVho will not change a Rauen for a doue?

770745The will of man is by his reason swai'd:

771746And reason saies you are the worthier maide.

772747Things growing are not ripe, vntill their season:

773748So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.

774749And touching now, the point of humane skill,

775750Reason becomes the Marshall to my will,

776751And leads mee to your eyes; where I orelooke

777752Loues stories, written in loues richest booke.

778753Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?

779754When, at your hands, did I deserue this scorne?

780755Ist not enough, ist not enough, young man,

781756That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,

782757Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,

783758But you must flout my insufficiency?

784759Good troth you doe mee wrong (good sooth you doe)

785760In such disdainfull manner, mee to wooe.

786761But, fare you well: perforce, I must confesse,

787762I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.