LYSANDER     Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head,

Made love to Nedar’s daughter Helena

And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,

Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry

Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

THESEUS        I must confess that I have heard so much,

And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;

But being over-full of self-affairs,

My mind did lose it.   (1.1.106-114)

Lysander takes another tack; he’ll try anything, even gossip and scandal that might make him look bad, or at least petty: Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head, yes, I’ll say it to his FACE, the gloves are OFF, made love to Nedar’s daughter Helena and won her soul. This makes Demetrius sound much more of a cad to a modern audience, meaning courted rather than anything more … carnal … but the point is more, won her soul. That’s what matters, in the entangled emotions of this love-quadrilateral, for the characterisation of both Demetrius and Helena, and for the plot. She’s completely smitten, in deep; she, sweet lady, dotes, devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry—Lysander is making it clear that he thinks Helena is deluded, but what can you do?—upon this spotted and inconstant man. He’s not worth it! Demetrius is a SNAKE! A fickle SNAKE! Theseus can sigh—he sees his statesmanlike diplomacy unravelling before his eyes, this is going to take some time to sort out—I must confess that I have heard so much, yes, I’ve heard the stories too, regrettably, and with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof. Really should have said something, yes, conduct unbecoming, bit shabby, at least be more discreet. But being over-full of self-affairs, my mind did lose it. It’s just that I’ve been so BUSY, with the wedding and all. Preoccupied. Slipped my mind. Dropped the ball.