Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
Lys. I had no judgement when to her I swore.
135 Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
Dem. [Awaking] [137] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
140 Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus’ snow,
Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow