And run through fire i will for the 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!
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.
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 swayed, And reason says you are the worthier maid.
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, that I did never, no, nor never can deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, but you must flout my insufficiency?
She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there, and she never mayst thou come Lysander near. For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things the deepest loathing to the stomach brings, or as the heresies that men do leave are hated, but the most of me! And all my powers, address your love and might to honor Helen and to be her knight.