Hect. Come, she shall go.
Troil. She shall? then I am dared.
Hect. If nothing else will do.
Troil. Answer me first,
And then I'll answer that,—be sure I will,—
Whose hand sealed this exchange?
Hect. My father's first;
Then all the council's after.
Troil. Was yours there?
Hect. Mine was there too.
Troil. Then you're no more my friend:
And for your sake,—now mark me what I say,—
She shall not go.
Hect. Go to; you are a boy.
Troil. A boy! I'm glad I am not such a man,
Not such as thou, a traitor to thy brother;
Nay, more, thy friend: But friend's a sacred name,
Which none but brave and honest men should wear:
In thee 'tis vile; 'tis prostitute; 'tis air;
And thus, I puff it from me.