Other lovers
Helena
Just then a young woman walked into the room. It was Helena.
Lysander had told the Duke that someone called Helena loved Demetrius. Well, this young woman was the very same Helena, and, as well as loving Demetrius, she was also Hermia's best friend.
Helena was a pretty young woman, a little older than Hermia, almost seventeen, and rather taller and bigger. She had lovely long black hair. She and Helena had been friends ever since they were children.
When they saw each other the two young women had to stop to talk.
First of all they talked about each other. Hermia said Helena looked very pretty. Helena said she was not pretty at all, but she wished she could be as pretty as Hermia. If she looked like Hermia, she said, then Demetrius would love her.
'What do you do, Hermia, to make Demetrius love you so much?' she asked.
'Nothing at all,' said Hermia. 'Whenever I see him, I look at him with an angry face. But he still loves me.'
'I wish my smiling face looked like your angry face,' said Helena.
'Whenever I speak to him, I scream and shout at him,' said Hermia, 'but he still loves me.'
'I wish my soft words sounded like your shouts,' said Helena.
'And the more I hate him, the more he follows me,' said Hermia.
'Well, the more I love him, the more he runs away from me!' said Helena.
'Please do not blame me, Helena.', said Hermia, 'It is not my fault that Demetrius is so stupid.'
'I can only blame you for being beautiful,' said Helena. 'I wish I could be blamed for having the same beauty!'
The secret told
Hermia felt sorry for her friend. 'Well, stop worrying, dear Helena,' she said. After tomorrow, Demetrius will not be able to see me any more.'
'Why?' said Helena, very surprised.
'Lysander and I are going away,' Hermia explained.
'We are leaving tomorrow night,' said Lysander.
'Oh,' said Helena. She was lost for words.
Yes,' said Hermia. 'We are going to meet tomorrow night in the wood, in the place where all those little yellow flowers grow. Don't you remember, Helena, we used to like to sit on the grass there and have long talks. That is where Lysander and I shall meet.'
Helena remembered. She had been to that place with Hermia many times. It was in the centre of the wood, a large flat open area of grass, usually covered with small yellow flowers. Around it were tall trees, and groups of bushes, and the dark wood stretching away in all directions. On a summer's day you could sit there, quiet and peaceful, enjoying the warm sun, the singing of the birds, the buzzing and chirping of the insects, and you would forget all your troubles. At night, when there was a large, bright moon in the sky, the place was mysterious and full of magic. Helena and Hermia had been there once at night. They said they had seen fairies, but no one believed them. Everyone thought they must just have been imagining things.
Helena remembered the place well. It was hard to find if you did not know the way, but she knew how to get there, even through the dark wood at night time.
'Now we must go,' said Hermia. 'We have to get ready. Good-bye, my dearest friend and playmate. Pray for us. I hope your luck will be good, and you will win the love of your Demetrius.'
'Yes,' said Lysander. 'I really do hope that Demetrius will love you as much as you love him. Good-bye Helena.'
The friends held hands and kissed one another, and Hermia and Lysander left the room.
Helena's plan
'It is not fair,' Helena thought to herself, as she watched Hermia and Lysander leave. 'Some people are so much happier than others. Everyone here thinks I am just as beautiful as Hermia - except Demetrius! Why won't he believe what everyone else can see so easily?'
She began to walk about the room.
'I am just as stupid, loving Demetrius,' she thought. 'I can see he does not want me, but when you are in love, you see with your imagination, not with your eyes. I suppose that is why people say 'love is blind'.'
She continued to walk about the room, lost in thought. Poor Helena was really love-sick. Then she had an idea.
'I know what I will do,' she thought to herself. 'I will tell Demetrius that Hermia and Lysander are going to run away. Then he will want to go to the wood, tomorrow night, to follow Hermia there. I will promise to take him. I know the way, and he does not, so perhaps he will thank me for helping him, and see that I love him. At least he will have to walk with me to the wood, and, I hope, back to Athens again afterwards.'