Ber. I, and worne in the cap of a Tooth-drawer. And now forward, for we haue put thee in countenance Ped. You haue put me out of countenance Ber. False, we haue giuen thee faces Ped. But you haue out-fac'd them all Ber. And thou wer't a Lion, we would do so Boy. Therefore as he is, an Asse, let him go: And so adieu sweet Iude. Nay, why dost thou stay? Dum. For the latter end of his name Ber. For the Asse to the Iude: giue it him. Iudas away Ped. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble Boy. A light for monsieur Iudas, it growes darke, he may stumble Que. Alas poore Machabeus, how hath hee beene baited. Enter Braggart. Ber. Hide thy head Achilles, heere comes Hector in Armes Dum. Though my mockes come home by me, I will now be merrie King. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this Boi. But is this Hector? Kin. I thinke Hector was not so cleane timber'd Lon. His legge is too big for Hector Dum. More Calfe certaine Boi. No, he is best indued in the small Ber. This cannot be Hector Dum. He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces Brag. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty, gaue Hector a gift Dum. A gilt Nutmegge Ber. A Lemmon Lon. Stucke with Cloues Dum. No clouen Brag. The Armipotent Mars of Launces the almighty, Gaue Hector a gift, the heire of Illion; A man so breathed, that certaine he would fight: yea From morne till night, out of his Pauillion. I am that Flower Dum. That Mint Long. That Cullambine Brag. Sweet Lord Longauill reine thy tongue Lon. I must rather giue it the reine: for it runnes against Hector Dum. I, and Hector's a Grey-hound Brag. The sweet War-man is dead and rotten, Sweet chuckes, beat not the bones of the buried: But I will forward with my deuice; Sweete Royaltie bestow on me the sence of hearing. Berowne steppes forth. Qu. Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted Brag. i do adore thy sweet Graces slipper Boy. Loues her by the foot Dum. He may not by the yard Brag. This Hector farre surmounted Hanniball. The partie is gone Clo. Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two moneths on her way Brag. What meanest thou? Clo. Faith vnlesse you play the honest Troyan, the poore Wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags in her belly alreadie: tis yours Brag. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates? Thou shalt die Clo. Then shall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta that is quicke by him, and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead by him Dum. Most rare Pompey Boi. Renowned Pompey Ber. Greater then great, great, great, great Pompey: Pompey the huge Dum. Hector trembles Ber. Pompey is moued, more Atees more Atees stirre them, or stirre them on Dum. Hector will challenge him Ber. I, if a'haue no more mans blood in's belly, then will sup a Flea Brag. By the North-pole I do challenge thee