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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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OBERON Stand close; this is the same Athenian. PUCK This is the woman, but not this the man. 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 bor’d, and that the moon May through the centre creep and so displease Her brother’s noontide with th’ Antipodes. It cannot be but thou hast murd’red him; So should a murderer look-so dead, so grim. DEMETRIUS So should the murdered look; and so should I, Pierc’d 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 numb’red among men! O, once tell true; tell true, even for my sake! Durst thou have look’d upon him being awake, And hast thou kill’d 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 mispris’d 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 therefore? 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. Exit 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 bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; Which now in some slight measure it will pay, If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down] OBERON 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 turn’d, and not a false turn’d true. |
