Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Dem. No sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
Hel. Hel.
Hel. O when she's angry, she is keene and shrewd,
Hel. She was a vixen when she went to schoole,
Hel. And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Her. Her.
Her. Little againe? Nothing but low and little?
Her. Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Her. Let me come to her.
Lys. Lys.
Lys. Get you gone you dwarfe,
Lys. You minimus, of hindring knot‑grasse made,
Lys. You bead, you acorne.
Dem. Dem.
Dem. You are too officious,
Dem. In her behalfe that scornes your seruices.
Dem. Let
Dem. A Midsommer nights Dreame.
Dem. Let her alone, speake not of Helena,
Dem. Take not her part. For if thou dost intend