Tolkien goes Shakespeare

[Ithaeliel]

Eowyn as Hermia
Arwen as Helena
Faramir as Lysander
Aragorn as Demetrius

From A Midsummer Night's Dream:

Eowyn: Aragorn, whereto tends all this?

Faramir: Away, you Rohirric! Hang off, thou cat, thou burr;
let loose or I will shake thee from me like a wyrm!

Eo: Why are you grown so rude? What change is this,
Sweet love?

Fa: Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out!

Eo: Do you not jest?

Arwen: Yes, sooth, and so do you!

Fa: Aragorn, I will keep my word with thee!

Aragorn: I would I had your bond, for I percieve
A weak bond holds you. I will not trust your word.

Fa: What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.

Eo: What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
Hate me! Wherefore? O me, what news, my love!
Am I not Arwen? Are not you Aragorn?
I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
Since night you loved me, yet since night you left me!
Why then, you left me- O, the Valar forbid!-
In earnest, shall I say?

Fa: Ay, by my sword:
And never did desire to see thee more!
Therefore, be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
be certain, nothing truer, tis no jest
that I do hate thee and love Arwen!

Eo: 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?

Arw: 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 hobbit, you!

Eo: Hobbit? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game;
Now I percieve that she hath made compare
between our statures; she hath urged her height,
and with her personage, her Elven personage,
her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed with him!
And are you grown so high in his esteem
Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou pointy-earèd? Speak,
how low am I? I ma not yet so low
but that my nails cannot reach unto thine fair blue eyes!

Arw: I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
let her not hurt me. I was never curst,
I have no gift at all in shrewishness,
I am a right maid for my cowardice,
let her not strike me; you perhaps may think
because she is something more mortal than myself,
that I can match her.

Eo: Mortal! Hark, again!

Arw: Good Eowyn, do not be so bitter with me!
I evermore did love you, Eowyn,
did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you,
save that, in love unto Aragorn,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
He followed you, for love I followed him,
but he hath chid me hence and threatened me,
to strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too;
and now, so you will let me quiet go,
to Valinor will I bear my folly hence,
and follow you no further. Let me go,
you see how wizened and how tired I am.

Eo: Why, get you gone. Who is't that hinders you?

Arw: An immortal fate, that I leave here behind.

Eo: What, with Faramir?

Arw: With Aragorn.

Fa: Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Arwen.

Ara: No, she shall not, though you take her part.

Arw: O, when she is angry she is keen and shrewd!
She was a vixen when she went to school;
and though she be but mortal, she is fierce.

Eo: Mortal again! Nothing but low and mortal!
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.

Fa: Get you gone, you dwarf.
You holbytla, who hindering pipe-weed smok'd,
you bead, you acorn.