Hermia

'So is Lysander'

'So does Lysander'

How low am I? I am not yet so low 
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

"O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom,"

O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

My good Lysander! 
I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow, 
By his best arrow with the golden head, 
By the simplicity of Venus' doves, 
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, 
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen, 
When the false Troyan under sail was seen, 
By all the vows that ever men have broke, 
In number more than ever women spoke, 
In that same place thou hast appointed me, 
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

 God speed fair Helena!

The more I hate, the more he follows me.

And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!