Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
[182] Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?
185 Her. What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lys. Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
[188] Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know,
[190] The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?