Have you no modefty, no maiden fhame, But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me: I was never curft; I have no gift at all in fhrewishness; I am a right maid, for my cowardice: Let her not ftrike me. You, perhaps, may think, Her. Lower! hark, again. Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me; Did ever keep your counfels, never wrong'd you; I told him of your ftealth unto this wood: Her. Why, get you gone; who is't, that hinders you? Hel. With Demetrius. Lyf. Be not afraid, the fhall not harm thee, Helena. Pem. No, Sir, fhe shall not, though you take her part. I 4 Hel Hel. O, when she's angry, fhe is keen and fhrewd, She was a vixen, when the went to school; And though the be but little, he is fierce. Her. Little, again? nothing but low, and little? Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her. Lyf. Get you gone, you dwarf, You Minimus, of hind'ring knot-grafs made, (20) Dem. You are too officious, In her behalf that fcorns your fervices. Let her alone, fpeak not of Helena, Take not her part; for if thou doft intend Never fo little fhew of love to her, Thou shalt aby it. Lyf. Now he holds me not; Now follow, if thou dar'ft; to try whofe right, Dem. Follow? nay, I'll go with thee cheek by jowl. [Exeunt Lylander and Demetrius. Her. You, miftrefs, all this coyl is long of you: Nay, go not back.. Hel. I will not trust you, I; Nor longer stay in your curft company. Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray; [Exeunt: Herm. pursuing Helena. Enter Oberon and Puck. " Ob. This is thy negligence: ftill thou mistak'ft, Or elfe committ'it thy knaveries willingly. (20) You Minimus, -] This is no Term of Art, that I can find ; and I can scarce be willing to think, that Shakespeare, would ufe the Masculine of an Adjective to a Woman. He was not fo deficient in Grammar. I have not ventur'd to disturb the Text; but the Author, perhaps, might have wrote; You, Minim, you, i. e. You Diminutive of the Creation, you Reptile. In this Senfe, to ufe a more recent Authority, Milton ufes the Word in the 7th Book of Paradife Loft. Thefe as a Line their long Dimenfion drew, Puck. Puck. Believe me, King of fhadows, I miftook. Ob. Thou feeft, thefe lovers feek a place to fight; Hie therefore, Robin, overcaft the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon And from each other, look, thou lead them thus; I'll to my Queen, and beg her Indian boy; From monster's view, and all things fhall be peace. At whose approach, ghofts wandring here and there They They willfully exile themselves from light; I will lead them up and down: Enter Lyfander. Lyf. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? fpeak thou now. Puck. Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou? Lys. I will be with thee ftraight. Puck. Follow me then To plainer ground. [Lyf. goes out, as following Dem. Enter Demetrius. Dem. Lyfander, fpeak again; Thou run-away, thou coward, art thou fled? And wilt not come? come, recreant; come, thou child, That draws a fword on thee. Dem. Yea, art thou there? Puck. Follow my voice, we'll try no manhood here, Lyfander comes back. [Exeunt. Lyf. He goes before me, and still dares me on; When I come where he calls me, then he's gone. The The villain is much lighter-heel'd, than I: And here will reft me. Come, thou gentle day: [Lyes down, For if but once thou fhew me thy gray light, Enter Puck and Demetrius. Puck. Ho, ho, ho, coward, why com'ft thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'ft: for well I wot, Thou runn'ft before me, fhifting every places And dar'ft not ftand, nor look me in the face, Where art thou? Puck. Come thou hither, I am here. Dem. Nay, then thou mock'ft me; thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by day-light fee. Now, go thy way; faintness constraineth me Enter Helena. [Lye's down. Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours; fhine, comforts, from the Eaft; That I may back to Athens by day-light, From these, that my poor company deteft; And fleep, that fometimes fhuts up forrow's eye, Two of both kinds make up four. Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Enter Hermia. Her. Never fo weary, never fo in woe, [Sleeps Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briars, I can no further crawl, no further go; defires: Here |