ROSALIND

Rosalind’s speeches and analyses.
As You Like It

Rosalind | Act 3, Scene 5 | 37-73

And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother…

Source
Oxford | Brissenden, Alan. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993.

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Thought Counts
Oxford | 1993

Thoughts |TBD

Short: 3
Medium: 4
Long: 2
Total: 9

End-stopped: 8
Mid-line: 1

Periods: 7
Exclamations: 1
Questions: 1
Unfinished: 0

Objective

 

Helena needs the audience to

Journey
Oxford | 1993.

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Thought Counts
Oxford | 1993

Thoughts |TBD

Short: 11
Medium: 7
Long: 0
Total: 18

End-stopped:11
Mid-line: 7

Periods: 12
Exclamations: 0
Questions: 6
Unfinished: 0

Objective

 

Helena needs the audience to

Thoughts
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
1. And why, I pray you? 2. Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? 3. What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
4. Why, what means this? 5. Why do you look on me?
6. I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.– 7.‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
8. No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
9. ‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
10. You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
11. You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. 12. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
13. ‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
14. But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. 15. You are not for all markets.
16. Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
17. So, take her to thee, shepherd. 18. Fare you well.

Line Analysis
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,                11w
That you insult, exult, and all at once,                                 10R | 10  (that, insult, exult)
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–     12w
As, by my faith, I see no more in you                                      10R
Than without candle may go dark to bed–                            10R
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?                             10R | 10 (must)
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?                   10 (why)
I see no more in you than in the ordinary                                  12-13w
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,                               10R
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.                                10R
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.                               10R
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,                            10R
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,                         10R
That can entame my spirits to your worship.                           10w | 11w (spir’tsb)
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her                12  (you)
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?                           10 (puffing)
You are a thousand times a properer man                                10 | 11 (you)
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you                                10 (such)
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.                      11 (full, ill)
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,                                 10R
And out of you she sees herself more proper                              11w
Than any of her lineaments can show her.                                    11w | 12w
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees                     10 (down)
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;                    10 | 11 (heavenheav’n, fasting)
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,                                           10R
Sell when you can. You are not for all markets.                           11w
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;                                   11w (cry)
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–                                 11w (be’ng) 15 (foul)
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.                                 10R

Pacing and Tempo
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, ^ I pray you? ^ Who might be your mother, –>
That you insult, ^ exult, ^ and all at once, –>
Over the wretched? ^ What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you  –>       slowly
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?   pause
Why, what means this? ^ Why do you look on me?  pause, slowly
I see no more in you than in the ordinary  –>
Of natures sale-work.–^ ‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.         pause
No, ^ faith, ^ proud mistress, ^ hope not after it.       pause
‘Tis not your inky brows, ^ your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, ^ nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.  slowly
You, ^ foolish shepherd, ^ wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, ^ puffing with wind and rain?     pause
You are a thousand times a properer man –>
Than she a woman. ^ ‘Tis such fools as you –>  | slowly
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.   pause, slowly (hts)
‘Tis not her glass ^ but you that flatters her,
And out of you ^ she sees herself more proper –>
Than any of her lineaments can show her.    pause
But, ^ mistress, ^ know yourself; ^ down on your knees   | slowly
And thank heaven, ^ fasting, ^ for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. ^ You are not for all markets.   slowly | pause
Cry the man mercy, ^ love him, ^ take his offer;   | slowly
Foul is most foul, ^ being foul to be a scoffer.–     slowly | pause
So, ^ take her to thee, ^ shepherd. ^ Fare you well.

Alliteration
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Assonance & Rhyme
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Consonance & Onomatopoeia
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Rhetoric
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Before and After
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Definitions
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Translation
Oxford | 1993

ROSALIND
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,–
As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed–
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature’s sale-work.–‘Od’s my little life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
‘Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You, foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour’d children.
‘Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can. you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.–
So, take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

Helena | Act 3, Scene 2 | 192-219

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

Objective

 

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!                                   1011
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,                            10R1112
Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d           10R10
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                                      1011  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                        11w12
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,                              11w
But yet an union in partitiön;                                                 10R10
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;                          10R10
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?                  10R10
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, <cshe is one of this confederacy!  pause
Now I perceive <c> they have conjoin’d<call three
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.  pause      slowly
Injurious Hermia,<cmost ungrateful maid,
Have you conspir’d,<chave 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,<cthe hours that we have spent  slowly?
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us–<c> <pauseO, is all forgot?  pause
All school-days’ friendship,<cchildhood innocence?  pause
We,<cHermia, <c> like two artificial gods
Have with our needles <ccreated both one flower,
Both on one sampler, <c> sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song,<cboth in one key,  slowly?
As if our hands,<cour sides,<cvoices,<cand minds   slowly?
Had been incorporate.<c><quickly>  So we grew together   carefully
Like to a double cherry,<cseeming parted,
But yet an union in partitiön;  slowly
Two lovely berries <cmoulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies <cbut one heart,
Two of the first,<clike coats in heraldry,  carefully
Due but to one <cand 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, <cas well as I,<cmay 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 contraheev’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.

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