Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hel. Happy is Hermia, wheresoere she lies;
Hel. For she hath blessed and attractiue eyes.
Hel. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.
Hel. If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.
Hel. No, no, I am as vgly as a Beare;
Hel. For beasts that meete me, runne away for feare,
Hel. Therefore no maruaile, though Demetrius
Hel. Doe as a monster, flie my presence thus.
Hel. What wicked and dissembling glasse of mine,
Hel. Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyne?
Hel. But who is here? Lysander on the ground;
Hel. Deade or asleepe? I see no bloud, no wound,
Hel. Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake.
Lys. Lys.
Lys. And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
Lys. Transparent Helena, nature her shewes art,
Lys. That through thy bosome makes me see thy heart.
Lys. Where is Demetrius? oh how fit a word
Lys. Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!
Hel. Hel.