LYSANDER Now she holds me not.
Now follow, if thou dar’st, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
DEMETRIUS Follow? Nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl.
([Exeunt] Lysander and Demetrius.)
HERMIA You, mistress, all this coil is long of you.
Nay, go not back.
HELENA I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray;
My legs are longer, though, to run away. [Exit.]
HERMIA I am amazed, and know not what to say. [Exit.] (3.2.335-344)
Now she holds me not: Lysander’s speaking metaphorically—he’s no longer in thrall to Hermia—but also probably literally, he’s struggled free from her clutches. And he’s STILL mostly preoccupied with beating Demetrius in a fight over who loves Helena more: now follow, if thou dar’st, to try whose right, of thine or mine, is most in Helena. We’ll settle this once and for all, who she belongs to. Entitled or WHAT? Oh no you don’t, retorts Demetrius, follow? Nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl. I’m not FOLLOWING you anywhere, I’m going with you, right beside you, you’re not the boss of me! So off the two utterly ridiculous men go, to have their fight, and the women are left alone, the first time this has happened. But it’s FROSTY as anything: you, mistress, all this coil is long of you; this is ALL your fault, Hermia says, accusingly, all this massive mess, this conspiracy. Nay, go not back. You’re not going anywhere! I haven’t finished with you! (Is Helena starting to go off after the boys?) But Helena’s really had enough, she’s fed up and still thinks that Hermia’s in on whatever this is too, a co-conspirator with the men: I will not trust you, I, nor longer stay in your curst company. I’m OUT of here, I don’t want to spend another minute in your presence. I HATE you! Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray—you’re still itching to slap me, aren’t you? always were a scrapper—my legs are longer, though, to run away. You’re still SHORT and we’re not friends anymore. BYEE! And, at the end of this frenetic, passionate, hysterical interlude, Hermia speaks for everyone, including the audience: I am amazed, and know not what to say. Lost, lost for words, and completely discombobulated. Off the women go too.
