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.

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.

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’s love, that would not let him bide, Fair Helena, who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know, The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so?