Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.
Arm. I do adore thy sweet Grace’s slipper.
Boyet. [Aside to Dum.] Loves her by the foot.
Dum. [Aside to Boyet] He may not by the yard.
660 Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,—
[661] Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.
Arm. What meanest thou?
Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the 665 poor wench is cast away: she’s quick; the child brags in her belly already: ’tis yours.
Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.
Cost. Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that 670 is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him.