Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hel. Do not say so Lysander, say not so:
Hel. What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Hel. Yet Hermia still loues you; then be content.
Lys. Lys.
Lys. Content with Hermia? No, I do repent
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,