PETRUCHIO: O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble, Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail! Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou! Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread? Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant; Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest! I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.