HERMIA
O me, you yeasty beef witted pignut, you spongy clay-brained canker-blossom,
You lumpish knotty pated-strumpet! What, have you come by night
And stol’n my love’s heart from him?
HELENA
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 frothy half-faced harpy, you goatish clapper-clawed measle, you!
HERMIA
“measle”? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures: she hath urg’d her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail’d with him.
And are you grown so high in his esteem,
Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou rank sheep-biting codpiece? Speak!
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.