HERMIA [to Helena] O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom,
You thief of love! What, have you come by night
And stolen my love’s heart from him?
HELENA Fine, i’ faith.
Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you! (3.2.282-288)
Hermia explodes, all her wrath (and pain) now focused on Helena; she’s finally figured it out, she thinks, and it’s even worse than she imagined: whereas she’d initially thought that this was a joke at her expense, with Helena in on it, she now thinks that Helena has seduced Lysander away from her by stealth, right under her nose. Her world has come crashing down! O me, you juggler, you canker blossom, you thief of love! You con-artist (suggestions of love potions, even? ironically true, of course), worm in the bud, you underhand, man-stealing BITCH! What, have you come by night and stolen my love’s heart from him? (Does she think that Helena has been able to do this in the last hours or moments, while they’ve all been in the wretched wood, or that it has been going on behind her back for a long time?) TRAITOR! SEDUCTRESS! COW!
MUCH FLOUNCING from Helena, who is sure that she has a stronger claim as the injured party. Fine, i’ faith. Unbelievable. Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, no touch of bashfulness? This is completely the wrong tactic, this retreat to propriety, a kind of fussy, high moral ground femininity, rather than a straightforward denial. What, will you tear impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Are you picking a fight with me now, trying to get me to say something I’ll regret? I’m BETTER than that. Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you! Counterfeit can be hypocrite, but it’s also fake, you fake woman, so UNFEMININE in making these accusations—but it’s puppet, also a fake (and perhaps the puppet, the toy, of the men) that really hits home with Hermia, because a puppet is a poppet, a doll, and therefore small…
