Lysander Out, loathèd med’cine. O hated potion, hence. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "loathèd med'cine"
Lysander [To Hermia] Hang off, thou cat, thou burr . Vile thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. Hermia Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love? Lysander Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out. Out, loathèd med’cine. O hated potion, hence. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "tawny tartar"
Demetrius But yet come not. You are a tame man, go. Lysander [To Hermia] Hang off, thou cat, thou burr . Vile thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. Hermia Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "Hang off"
Demetrius [To Helena] I say I love thee more than he can do. Lysander If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "withdraw"
Helena Lo, she is one of this confederacy. Now I perceive they have conjoined all three To fashion this false sport in spite of me. Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid, Have you conspired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel that we two have shared — The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent When we have chid the hasty-footed time For parting us — O, is it all quite forgot? All schooldays' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry: seeming parted, But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries molded on one stem. So, with two seeming bodies but one heart – Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one and crownèd with one crest. And will you rend our ancient love asunder, To join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly. Our sex as well as I may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "double cherry"
Helena Lo, she is one of this confederacy. Now I perceive they have conjoined all three To fashion this false sport in spite of me. Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid, Have you conspired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel that we two have shared — The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent When we have chid the hasty-footed time For parting us — O, is it all quite forgot? All schooldays' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry: seeming parted, But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries molded on one stem. So, with two seeming bodies but one heart – Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one and crownèd with one crest. And will you rend our ancient love asunder, To join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly. Our sex as well as I may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: “like two artificial gods”
Helena O spite! O hell! I see you all 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? 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. 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. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "conjure"
Demetrius 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! That pure congealèd white, high Taurus’ snow Fanned with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold'st up thy hand. O, let me kiss This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss! Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: “high Taurus’ snow”
Lysander Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears. Look, when I vow I weep, and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true? Helena You do advance your cunning more and more When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray! These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her o'er ? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh; Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh – and both as light as tales. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "will even weigh"
Lysander Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears. Look, when I vow I weep, and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true? Helena You do advance your cunning more and more When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray! These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her o'er ? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh; Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh – and both as light as tales. Read more about Act 3, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: “devilish holy fray”
