Dem. Quick, come
Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
Lys. Away, you Ethiope
Dem. No, no, Sir, seeme to breake loose;
Take on as you would follow,
But yet come not: you are a tame man, go
Lys. Hang off thou cat, thou bur; vile thing let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent
Her. Why are you growne so rude?
What change is this sweete Loue?
Lys. Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out;
Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence
Her. Do you not iest?
Hel. Yes sooth, and so do you
Lys. Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee
Dem. I would I had your bond: for I perceiue
A weake bond holds you; Ile not trust your word
Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so
Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate?
Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Loue?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as faire now, as I was ere while.
Since night you lou'd me: yet since night you left me.
Why then you left me (O the gods forbid)
In earnest, shall I say?
Lys. I, by my life;
And neuer did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
Be certaine, nothing truer: 'tis no iest,
That I do hate thee, and loue Helena