Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Lys. The tedious minutes I with her haue spent.
Lys. Not Hermia, but Helena now I loue;
Lys. Who will not change a Rauen for a Doue?
Lys. The will of man is by his reason sway'd:
Lys. And reason saies you are the worthier Maide.
Lys. Things growing are not ripe vntill their season;
Lys. So I being yong, till now ripe not to reason,
Lys. And touching now the point of humane skill,
Lys. Reason becomes the Marshall to my will,
Lys. And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke
Lys. Loues stories, written in Loues richest booke.
Hel. Hel.
Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
Hel. When at your hands did I deserue this scorne?
Hel. Ist not enough, ist not enough, yong man,
Hel. That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
Hel. Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,
Hel. But you must flout my insufficiency?
Hel. Good troth you do me wrong (good‑sooth you do)
Hel. In such disdainfull manner, me to wooe.