Midsummer Night’s Dream

This is the woman, but this is not the man Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so, lay breath so bitter on thy bitter foe.
So Should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. So should the murder’d look, and so should I, pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty. Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, and as clear, as yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung. You spend your passion on a misprised mood; I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood; Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
Pray thee, tell me then that he is well. An if I could, what should I get therefore?
See me no more, whether he be dead or no. There is no following her in this fierce vein. Here therefore for a while, I will remain. So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow, nor debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe. Which now in some slight measure it will pay, if for his tender here I make some stay.
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. O Helena, goddess nymph, perfect, divine, to what shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show, thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow, Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow. When thou hold’st up thy hand: O, let me kiss this princess of pure white, this seal of bliss.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Lysander, keep thy Hermia. If ever I loved her, all that love is gone. My heart to her is but as guest-wise sojourn’d, and now to Helen it is home return’d, there to remain.
Helen, it is not so. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
Sweet, do not scorn her so. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
I swear by that which I will lose for thee, To prove him false that says I love thee not. I say I love thee more than he can do.
If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. Quick, come!
Away you Ethiope! No, no: He’ll seem to break loose; take on as you would follow, but yet come not: You are a tame man, go!
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. I would I had your bond, for I perceive a weak bond holds you: I’ll not trust your word.
Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena. No sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; you bead, you acorn. You are too officious in her behalf that scorns your services. Let her alone: speak not of Helena: take not her part; for, if thou dost intend never so little show of love to her, Thou shalt aby it.
Of thine or mine, is most in Helena. Follow! nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl.

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