Joan’s speeches and analyses.
Henry VI, Part 1
Look on thy country, look on fertile France…
Source
Arden 3 | Edward Burns. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2000.
JOAN
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, 50
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. 55
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, 60
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, 65
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner? 70
But when they heard he was thine enemy
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men. 75
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Thought Counts
Arden 3 | 2000
Thoughts |TBD
Short: 3
Medium: 9
Long: 1
Total: 13
End-stopped: 13
Mid-line: 0
Periods: 9
Exclamations: 0
Questions: 4
Unfinished: 0
Helena needs the audience to
Thoughts
Arden 3 | 2000
JOAN
1. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
2. See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, 50
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
3. O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. 55
4. Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
5. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, 60
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
6. Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
7. When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, 65
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
8. Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
9. And was he not in England prisoner? 70
10. But when they heard he was thine enemy
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
11. See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men. 75
12. Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
13. Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Line Analysis
Arden 3 | 2000
JOAN
Look on thy country, look on fertile France, 10
And see the cities and the towns defaced 10 R 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe, 10 R
As looks the mother on her lowly babe 10 R
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes. 10 R
See, see the pining malady of France, 10 or 10 R
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, 10 R or 11 (unlikely) 50
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast. 10 R or 11
O turn thy edgèd sword another way, 10 or 10 R
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help: 10 or 10 R
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom 11 W
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. 10 R 55
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears 10 R
And wash away thy country’s stainèd spots. 10 R
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, 10 or 10 R 60
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. 10
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation, 11 W or 12
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake? 10 or 10 R
When Talbot hath set footing once in France 10 R
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, 10 R 65
Who then but English Henry will be lord, 10 or 10 R
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive? 10 R
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof – 10 or 10 R
Was not the Duke of Orléans thy foe? 10 R
And was he not in England prisoner? 10 R 70
But when they heard he was thine enemy 10 or 10 R
They set him free without his ransom paid, 10 R
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends. 10 R
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen 10 or 10 R
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men. 10 R 75
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord. 10 or 10 R
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms. 10 or 11
Pacing and Tempo
Arden 3 | 2000
JOAN
Look ^ on thy country, ^ look on fertile France,
And see ^ the cities ^ and the towns defaced → 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother ^ on her lowly babe →
When death doth close ^ his tender-dying eyes. PAUSE?
See, ^ see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, ^ the most unnatural wounds, 50
Which thou ^ thyself hast given her woeful breast. PAUSE?
O ^ turn thy edged sword ^ another way,
Strike those that hurt, ^ and hurt not those that help:
One drop ^ of blood ^ drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more ^ than streams of foreign gore. PAUSE? 55
Return thee therefore ^ with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots. PAUSE
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
Besides, ^ all French and France ^ exclaims on thee, 60
Doubting thy birth ^ and lawful progeny. PAUSE?
Who join’st thou with ^ but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee ^ but for profit’s sake? PAUSE?
When Talbot hath set footing ^ once in France
And fashioned thee ^ that instrument of ill, 65
Who then but English Henry ^ will be lord,
And thou ^ be thrust out, ^ like a fugitive? PAUSE?
Call we to mind ^ – and mark but this ^ for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans ^ thy foe? PAUSE?
And was he not ^ in England ^ prisoner? PAUSE? 70
But when they heard ^ he was thine enemy
They set him free ^ without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy ^ and all his friends. PAUSE?
See then, ^ thou fight’st against ^ thy countrymen
And join’st with them ^ will be thy slaughter-men. PAUSE? 75
Come, ^ come, ^ return; ^ return, ^ thou wandering lord. PAUSE?
Charles ^ and the rest ^ will take thee in their arms. PAUSE?
Repeated Sounds
Arden 3 | 2000
JOAN
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, 50
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. 55
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, 60
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, 65
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner? 70
But when they heard he was thine enemy
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men. 75
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Rhetoric
Arden | 1979
imagery
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
metaphor
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
simile
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
plain comparison
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
juxtaposition
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
antithesis
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
contradiction/paradox
personification
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
this and that
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
cities and towns
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Charles and the rest
this, that, and another thing
enumerations
repetitions of words or phrases
look
France
see
wounds
hurt
come
return
parenthesis
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
irony
puns and other wordplay
onomatopoeia
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Before and After
Arden | 1979
SCENE III. The plains near Rouen.
Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and forces
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
We’ll pull his plumes and take away his train,
If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.
CHARLES
We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence:
One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.
BASTARD OF ORLEANS
Search out thy wit for secret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
ALENCON
We’ll set thy statue in some holy place,
And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
By fair persuasions mix’d with sugar’d words
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
CHARLES
Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry’s warriors;
Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
But be extirped from our provinces.
ALENCON
For ever should they be expulsed from France
And not have title of an earldom here.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Your honours shall perceive how I will work
To bring this matter to the wished end.
Drum sounds afar off
Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over at a distance, TALBOT and his forces
There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
And all the troops of English after him.
French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces
Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley; we will talk with him.
Trumpets sound a parley
CHARLES
A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!
BURGUNDY
Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
JOAN LA PUCELLE
The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
BURGUNDY
What say’st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.
CHARLES
Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
BURGUNDY
Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
BURGUNDY
Either she hath bewitch’d me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who joint’st thou with but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashion’d thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord
And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See, then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And joint’st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
BURGUNDY
I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
Have batter’d me like roaring cannon-shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees.
Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
My forces and my power of men are yours:
So farewell, Talbot; I’ll no longer trust thee.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
[Aside] Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!
CHARLES
Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.
BASTARD OF ORLEANS
And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
ALENCON
Pucelle hath bravely play’d her part in this,
And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
CHARLES
Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
And seek how we may prejudice the foe.
Exeunt
Definitions
Arden | 1979
defaced
wasting
lowly
tender-dying
pining
malady
unnatural
woeful
edged
exclaim on
progeny
stained
footing
lordly
instrument
spite
ransom
slaughterman
wandering
Translation
Arden | 1979
JOAN
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced 45
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe,
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender-dying eyes.
See, see the pining malady of France,
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, 50
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O turn thy edged sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help:
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. 55
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.
BURGUNDY
([aside]) Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
JOAN
Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, 60
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, 65
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?
Call we to mind – and mark but this for proof –
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner? 70
But when they heard he was thine enemy
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men. 75
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord.
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
HELENA
How happy some o’er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know;
And as he errs, doting on Hermia’s eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind;
Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgement taste:
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil’d.
As waggish boys, in game, themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjur’d every where;
For, ere Demetrius look’d on Hermia’s eyne,
He hail’d down oaths that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolv’d, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia’s flight:
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night,
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again.
Exit
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Source
Oxford | Roma Gill. London: Oxford University Press, 2001
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–O, is all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partitiön;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Thought Counts
Oxford | 2001
Thoughts |TBD
Short: 4
Medium: 5
Long: 2
Total: 11
End-stopped: 9
Mid-line: 2
Periods: 5
Exclamations: 1
Questions: 4
Unfinished: 1
Helena needs the audience:
to show sympathy for her.
Helena needs Hermia:
to demonstrate satisfactory acknowledgement of her hurt
Thoughts
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
1. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
2. Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
3. Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
4. Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us– 5. O, is all forgot?
6. All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
7. We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. 8. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
9. And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
10. It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
11. Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Line Analysis
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy! 10 | 11
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three 10
To fashion this false sport in spite of me. 10R
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid, 10R | 11 | 12
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d 10R | 10
To bait me with this foul derisiön? 10R
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d, 10R
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent 10R
When we have chid the hasty-footed time 10R
For parting us–O, is all forgot? 9
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence? 10R | 10
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods 10 | 11 stretch
Have with our needles created both one flower, 11w | 12w
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 11w
Both warbling of one song, both in one key, 10R | 10
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds 10
Had been incorporate. So we grew together 11w | 12
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 11w
But yet an union in partitiön; 10R | 10
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; 10R | 10
So with two seeming bodies but one heart, 10
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, 10
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest. 10R | 10
And will you rent our ancient love asunder, 11w
To join with men in scorning your poor friend? 10R | 10
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly. 10R
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, 11w
Though I alone do feel the injury. 10R
Phrasing and Tempo
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, <c> she is one of this confederacy! pause
Now I perceive <c> they have conjoin’d<c> all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me. pause slowly
Injurious Hermia,<c> most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d,<c> have you with these contriv’d carefully
To bait me with this foul derision? pause carefully
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows,<c> the hours that we have spent slowly?
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–<c> <pause> O, is all forgot? pause
All school-days’ friendship,<c> childhood innocence? pause
We,<c> Hermia, <c> like two artificial gods
Have with our needles <c> created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, <c> sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song,<c> both in one key, slowly?
As if our hands,<c> our sides,<c> voices,<c> and minds slowly?
Had been incorporate.<c><quickly> So we grew together carefully
Like to a double cherry,<c> seeming parted,
But yet an union in partitiön; slowly
Two lovely berries <c> moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies <c> but one heart,
Two of the first,<c> like coats in heraldry, carefully
Due but to one <c> and crownèd with one crest. pause carefully
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend? pause
It is not friendly, <c> ’tis not maidenly. pause
Our sex, <c> as well as I,<c> may chide you for it, slow
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Repeated Sounds
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, shee is one of this confederacee!
Now I perseeve they have conjoh-een’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of mee.
Injeree-us Hermee-ah, most ungreh-eeteful meh-eed,
Have you conspah-eer’d, have you with these contrah–eev’d
To beh-eet mee with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that oow-ee two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the howrs that oow-ee have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–O, is it all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles cree-eh-eeted both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Rhetoric
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision? (imagery, implied metaphor)
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time (imagery, list)
For parting us–O, is all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence? (imagery)
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods (simile, imagery)
Have with our needles created both one flower, (paradox, antithesis)
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, (imagery)
Both warbling of one song, both in one key, (imagery)
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds (simile, comparison, paradox, repetition)
Had been incorporate. So we grew together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, (simile, imagery)
But yet an union in partitiön; (paradox)
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; (metaphor, imagery, repetition)
So with two seeming bodies but one heart, (paradox)
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, (metaphor, simile, comparison, imagery)
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder, (imagery, anthesis)
To join with men in scorning your poor friend? (antithesis)
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, (hyperbole, imagery, personification, antithesis)
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Before and After
Oxford | 2001
LYSANDER
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears:
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
HELENA
You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
These vows are Hermia’s: will you give her o’er?
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.
LYSANDER
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
HELENA
Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er.
LYSANDER
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
DEMETRIUS
[Awaking] O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, 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!
HELENA
O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me for your merriment:
If you we re civil and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join in souls to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so;
To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
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
Would so offend a virgin, and extort
A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.
LYSANDER
You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
For you love Hermia; this you know I know:
And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love and will do till my death.
HELENA
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
DEMETRIUS
Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone.
My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn’d,
And now to Helen is it home return’d,
There to remain.
LYSANDER
Helen, it is not so.
DEMETRIUS
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.
Re-enter HERMIA
HERMIA
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
It pays the hearing double recompense.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
LYSANDER
Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?
HERMIA
What love could press Lysander from my side?
LYSANDER
Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
Than all you fiery oes and eyes of light.
Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know,
The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?
HERMIA
You speak not as you think: it cannot be.
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–O, is it all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
HERMIA
I am amazed at your passionate words.
I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.
HELENA
Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius,
Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What thought I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
But miserable most, to love unloved?
This you should pity rather than despise.
HERMIA
I understand not what you mean by this.
Definition
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–O, is all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partitiön;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
Translation
Oxford | 2001
HELENA
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,
The sister’s vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–O, is all forgot?
All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grow together
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partitiön;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.