But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
[299] Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
300 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,
[304] Because she is something lower than myself,
That I can match her.
Her.
305 Lower! hark, again.