Helena.
Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me,
I evermore did love you, Hermia,
Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong’d you;
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He follow’d you; for love I follow’d him;
But he hath chid me hence and threaten’d me
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back
And follow you no further: let me go:
You see how simple and how fond I am.
Hermia.
Why, get you gone: who is’t that hinders you?
Helena.
A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.
Hermia.
What, with Lysander?
Helena.
What, with Lysander? With Demetrius.
Lysander.
Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
Demetrius.
No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.