Helena: O sweet Demetrius, time is now begun,

For til thou wert my lord, I saw no sun,

But rather rain, for so it seemed to me

That sweet sunshine was not for spurnèd me.



Demetrius Ah, Helen, this is strange! but yet I know

That life sans love is nothing but a show.

When Hermia I loved, I hated life

For't led me far from her, though all the strife

Between us two, made being there no pleasure.



Helena But now we love, and life is all my treasure!

For life and love is living lasting true

And sweetest lord, all this I owe to you.



Demetrius But say, my love, what cheer? For seems to me

Your sphery eyne are brightest that I see

On any other.



Helena Aye, Demetrius dear

I must report of something passing glad

Come autumn, in your arms will be a child

I have concievèd, and my fruitful womb

Will bear for you an heir.



Demetrius O Helen love!

My mirth exceedeth all thou canst employ

For I am glad, and hope thou wilt forgive

That I have looked with love on Hermia.



Helena Forgive I with good will, Demetrius

I thou do love, and never stoppèd it.

And thou lovst me, and in thy arms I lie.

And I thy child will bear. And all in all,

So glad am I, that all could I forgive.



Demetrius So glad am I, that life I would now live.

Enter Puck



Puck Why, what is this? Yet time for merriment?

Not glad is Hermia, nor merry she.

Lysander is her lord - she should be glad!

Yet all that's heard from her is sad lament.



Enter Hermia



Hermia O happy Helen! Thou art truly glad!

Demetrius is thine, and all you have.



Helena Aye, that and more. For Hermia, pay thou heed

Blest I, and my lord too. Aye, I am blest;

Both blest and childing.



Hermia Helen, is this true?

Surely deserv'st thou my felicitate.

Aye, happy thou - and happy be thou, too.

I wish that I could be so glad as you.



Demetrius Farewell, sweet Hermia. May God grant to you,

The favour sweet he gav'st to Helen too.



Exit Demetrius and Helena



Hermia Aye, blest is she whose love was always true -

But thrice blest she, bears children to her groom.

I love Lysander, and he loves me well.

But will he love, when barren I remain?



Puck The lady's jealous. Never yet has she

Received not all her friend has. Answer me!

Should I work magic, make her bear a child?

Or let her learn, and let her be reviled?