HELENA         O weary night, O long and tedious night,

Abate thy hours. Shine, comforts, from the east,

That I may back to Athens by daylight

From these that my poor company detest;

And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,

Steal me a while from mine own company.

([Lies down and] sleep[s].)

PUCK  Yet but three? Come one more.

Two of both kinds makes up four.

Here she comes, curst and sad.

Cupid is a knavish lad,

Thus to make poor females mad.     (3.2.431-441)

Helena is every bit as annoyed and confused as the men, but also sadder and perhaps more accepting; she’s used to feeling like this? O weary night, O long and tedious night, abate thy hours. I just want this night to end, she says, I’m OVER it, what an absolute fiasco. Shine, comforts, from the east—the sun will cheer things up a bit, I’m sick of the DARK, as well as this bloody forest—that I may back to Athens by daylight from these that my poor company detest. I want to go home, I want to get away from these people who clearly HATE me, whatever they say. It’s been AWFUL, I wish I’d never started this; I ruin everything. And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, steal me a while from mine own company. At least if I can get to sleep I can have a bit of a break from being me. I HATE being me.

Puck’s doing the maths, but spares a bit of sympathy (perhaps) for Helena, and Hermia, who’s about to appear: yet but three? Come one more. We’re almost there, for two of both kinds makes up four: I need to have two couples—or sort-of couples—for this all to work out in the end. Here she comes, curst and sad—she’s in a right state as well, Hermia is, cross and woebegone, Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad. This is perhaps something of a whitewash: the men have been madder than the women, and much of this is Puck’s fault. But there’s a sense that it’s all starting to resolve.

Poor Helena though. All her anger and reproach seems still to be turned towards herself.