Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh![127]
Thy pouting breasts, like kettledrums of brass,
Beat everlasting loud alarms of joy;
As bright as brass they are, and oh, as hard.
Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh!
Hunc. Ha! dost thou know me, princess as I am,
That thus of me you dare to make your game?[128]
Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, well I know that you
A princess are, and a king's daughter, too;