Midsummer Night's Dream - Young People's Shakespeare Series

(Enter Hermia)
Hermia:	(to Lysander) Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. But unkindly didst thou leave me so. What love could press Lysander from my side?
Lysander:	Fair Helena who more engilds the night. Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
Hermia:	You speak not as you think. It cannot be.
Helena:	Lo, she is one of this confederacy! Now I perceive they have conjoined all three. To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Hermia:	I am amazed at your 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?
Hermia:	I understand not what you mean by this.
Lysander:	Helen, I love thee. By my life, I do.
Demetrius:	I say I love thee more than he can do.
Hermia:	Lysander, whereto tends all this?
(She takes hold of him)
Lysander:	Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
Hermia:	Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love?
Lysander:	Be certain, nothing truer, 'tis no jest. That I do hate thee and love Helena.
(Hermia turns him loose)
Hermia:	O me! (to Helena) You juggler, you canker-blossom, You thief of love! What, have you come by night And stol'n my love's heart from him?
Helena:	Have you no modesty, no maiden shame? Fie, fie you counterfeit, you puppet, you!
Hermia:	"Puppet"? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game. How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak! How low am I? I am not yet so low, But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
Helena:	Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, Because she is something lower than myself, That I can match her.
Hermia:	"Lower"? Hark, again!
Helena:	Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
Lysander:	Be not afraid. She shall not harm thee, Helena.
Helena:	Though she be but little, she is fierce.
Hermia:	"Little" again? Nothing but "low" and "little"? Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Lysander:	Get you gone, You minimus of hind'ring knotgrass made, You bead, you acorn-
Demetirus:	Let her alone.
Lysander:	Now follow, if dar'st, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
Demetrius:	"Follow"? Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl.
(Demetrius and Lysander exit) (ALERT:* Demetrius and Lysander be ready to re-enter)
Helena:	Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray. My legs are longer, to run away.