Page 2670 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse, [45]
For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day [50]
As he to me. Would he have stol’n away
From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon
This whole earth may be bor’d, and that the moon
May through the centre creep, and so displease
Her brother’s noon-tide with th’Antipodes. [55]
It cannot be but thou has murder’d him:
So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

DEMET RIUS

So should the murder’d look, and so should I,
Pierc’d through the heart with your stern cruelty;
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, [60]
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

HERMIA

What’s this to my Lysander? Where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

DEMET RIUS

I had rather give his carcase to my hounds.

HERMIA

Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv’st me past the bounds [65]
Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him then?
Henceforth be never number’d among men!
O once tell true; tell true, even for my sake!
Durst thou have look’d upon him, being awake,
And hast thou kill’d him sleeping? O brave touch! [70]
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung!

DEMET RIUS

You spend your passion on a mispris’d mood: