Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Her. Her height (forsooth) she hath preuail'd with him.
Her. And are you growne so high in his esteeme,
Her. Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
Her. How low am I, thou painted May‑pole? Speake,
Her. How low am I? I am not yet so low,
Her. But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes.
Hel. Hel.
Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen,
Hel. Let her not hurt me; I was neuer curst:
Hel. I haue no gift at all in shrewishnesse;
Hel. I am a right maide for my cowardize;
Hel. Let her not strike me: you perhaps may thinke,
Hel. Because she is something lower then my selfe,
Hel. That I can match her.
Her. Her.
Her. Lower? harke againe.
Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me,
Hel. I euermore did loue you Hermia,
Hel. Did euer keepe your counsels, neuer wronged you,