To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
155 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
160 Would so offend a virgin, and extort
A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.
Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;