The beggars bush written by Francis Beavmont and John Fletcher.
         Fletcher, John, 1579-1625.
      
       
         
           1661
        
      
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             The beggars bush written by Francis Beavmont and John Fletcher.
             Fletcher, John, 1579-1625.
             Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.
             Massinger, Philip, 1583-1640.
          
           [2], 35, [1] p.
           
             Printed for Humphrey Robinson, and Anne Mosely ... ,
             London :
             1661.
          
           
             Beaumont's joint authorship is doubtful.
             Beaumont's contribution to this is doubtful. Attributed to Fletcher and Massinger. Cf. Camb. hist. Eng. lit; Fleay, Biog. chron.; encyc. brit. 11th ed.
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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           THE
           BEGGARS
           BUSH
           .
        
         
           Written
           by
           
             
               
                 FRANCIS
                 BEAVMONT
              
               ,
               Gentlemen
               .
            
             
               And
               
                 IOHN
                 FLETCHER
              
               ,
               Gentlemen
               .
            
          
        
         
           You
           may
           speedily
           expect
           those
           other
           Playes
           ,
           which
           Kirkman
           ,
           and
           his
           Hawkers
           have
           deceived
           the
           buyers
           withall
           ,
           selling
           them
           at
           treble
           the
           value
           ,
           that
           this
           and
           the
           rest
           will
           be
           sold
           for
           ,
           which
           are
           the
           onely
           Originall
           and
           corrected
           copies
           ,
           as
           they
           were
           first
           purchased
           by
           us
           at
           no
           mean
           rate
           ,
           and
           since
           printed
           by
           us
           .
        
         
           LONDON
           ,
           Printed
           for
           
             Humphrey
             Robinson
          
           ,
           and
           
             Anne
             Mosely
          
           ,
           at
           the
           three
           Pigeons
           ,
           and
           at
           the
           
             Princes
             Arms
          
           in
           Saint
           Pauls
           Church-yard
           ,
           1661.
           
        
      
       
         
         
           DRAMMATIS
           PERSONAE
           .
        
         
           
             GOswin
             a
             young
             Merchant
             of
             Bruges
             ,
             viz.
             Florez
             the
             right
             Earl
             of
             Flanders
          
           
             Woolfort
             ,
             Usurper
             of
             the
             Earldome
             ,
          
           
             Clause
             King
             of
             Beggars
             ,
             
               viz.
               Gerrard
            
             Father
             to
             Florez
             ,
          
           
             Hubert
             disguised
             ●●ke
             a
             Huntsman
             ,
             A
             Lord
             of
             Flaunders
          
           
             Hemskirk
             ,
             A
             Favourite
             of
             the
             Usurper
             .
          
           
             Lord
             Arnold
             Two
             Lords
             of
             Flaunders
             disguis'd
             like
             Beggars
          
           
             Lord
             Costin
             ,
             Two
             Lords
             of
             Flaunders
             disguis'd
             like
             Beggars
          
           
             Iaqueline
             ,
             Daughter
             to
             Gerrard
             .
          
           
             Bertha
             ,
             Heir
             of
             Brabant
             .
          
           
             Van-dunck
             Burgomaster
             of
             Bruges
          
           
             Merchants
             ,
             Saylor
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             
               Higgen
               ,
               Ferret
               ,
               Prig
               ,
               Snap
               ,
            
             and
             others
             ,
             Beggars
             .
          
           
             Boors
             ,
          
           
             Souldiers
          
           
             Young
             Merchants
             ,
             and
             others
             ,
             Guests
             at
             Goswins
             Wedding
             .
          
           
             Margaret
             ,
             Wife
             to
             Vandunck
             .
          
           
             Attendants
             ,
          
           
             Boy
             with
             a
             Song
             .
          
        
         
           The
           Scene
           BRUGES
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           BEGGARS
           BUSH
           .
        
         
           
             Actus
             Primus
             ,
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Prima
               .
            
             
               Enter
               a
               Merchant
               and
               Herman
               .
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 IS
                 he
                 then
                 taken
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 brought
                 back
                 even
                 now
                 sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 was
                 not
                 in
                 disgrace
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 man
                 more
                 lov'●
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 more
                 deserv'd
                 it
                 ,
                 being
                 the
                 only
                 man
              
               
                 That
                 durst
                 be
                 honest
                 in
                 this
                 Court.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Indeed
              
               
                 We
                 have
                 heard
                 abroad
                 sir
                 ,
                 that
                 the
                 State
                 hath
                 suffered
              
               
                 A
                 grea●
                 change
                 since
                 the
                 Countess
                 death
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 I●
                 ha●h
                 sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 five
                 years
                 absence
                 hath
                 kept
                 me
                 a
                 stranger
              
               
                 So
                 much
                 to
                 all
                 ●he
                 occurents
                 of
                 my
                 Country
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 shall
                 bind
                 me
                 for
                 some
                 short
                 relation
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 me
                 understand
                 the
                 p●●sent
                 times
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 begin
                 then
                 with
                 a
                 war
                 was
                 made
              
               
                 And
                 seven
                 years
                 with
                 all
                 cruelty
                 continued
              
               
                 Upon
                 our
                 Flanders
                 by
                 the
                 Duke
                 of
                 Br●bant
              
               
                 The
                 cause
                 grew
                 thus
                 :
                 During
                 our
                 Earls
                 minority
                 ,
              
               
                 Woolf●rt
                 ,
                 (
                 who
                 now
                 usurps
                 )
                 was
                 empl●y●d
                 thither
              
               
                 To
                 ●rea●
                 about
                 a
                 ma●ch
                 between
                 our
                 Earl
              
               
                 And
                 the
                 Daughter
                 and
                 H●ir
                 of
                 Brabant
                 ;
                 during
                 which
                 treaty
              
               
                 The
                 Brabander
                 pretends
                 ,
                 this
                 Daughter
                 was
              
               
                 Stoln
                 from
                 his
                 Court
                 by
                 practice
                 of
                 our
                 State
                 ,
              
               
                 Though
                 we
                 are
                 all
                 confirm'd
                 ,
                 't
                 was
                 a
                 sought
                 quarrel
              
               
                 To
                 lay
                 an
                 unjust
                 gripe
                 upon
                 this
                 Earldom
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 being
                 here
                 beli●v'd
                 the
                 Duke
                 of
                 Brabant
              
               
                 Had
                 no
                 such
                 loss
                 .
                 This
                 war
                 upon
                 't
                 proclaim'd
                 ,
              
               
                 Our
                 Earl
                 ,
                 being
                 then
                 a
                 Child
                 ,
                 although
                 his
                 Father
              
               
                 Good
                 Gerrard
                 liv'd
                 ,
                 yet
                 in
                 respect
                 he
                 was
              
               
                 Chosen
                 by
                 the
                 Countess
                 favour
                 for
                 her
                 Husband
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 but
                 a
                 Gentlemen
                 ,
                 and
                 Floriz
                 holding
              
               
                 Hi●
                 right
                 unto
                 this
                 Country
                 from
                 his
                 mother
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 State
                 thought
                 fit
                 in
                 this
                 defensive
                 wa●
                 ,
              
               
                 Woolfort
                 being
                 then
                 the
                 only
                 man
                 of
                 mark
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 him
                 General
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Which
                 place
                 we
                 have
                 heard
              
               
                 He
                 did
                 discharge
                 with
                 honour
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 so
                 long
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 with
                 so
                 bl●st
                 successes
                 ,
                 that
                 the
                 Brabander
              
               
                 W●s
                 forc'd
                 (
                 his
                 treasures
                 wasted
                 ,
                 and
                 the
                 choice
              
               
                 Of
                 his
                 best
                 men
                 of
                 A●ms
                 tyr'd
                 or
                 cut
                 off
                 )
              
               
                 To
                 ●ave
                 the
                 fi●ld
                 ,
                 and
                 s●und
                 a
                 base
                 retreat
              
               
                 Back
                 to
                 his
                 Country
                 ;
                 bu●
                 so
                 br●ken
                 both
              
               
                 I●
                 m●n●
                 and
                 mea●s
                 ,
                 er'e
                 to
                 make
                 head
                 again
                 ,
              
               
                 〈◊〉
                 ●i●herto
                 he
                 s●●s
                 down
                 by
                 his
                 loss
                 ,
              
               
                 N●t
                 da●ing
                 ,
                 or
                 for
                 h●nour
                 ,
                 or
                 rev●nge
              
               
                 Aga●n
                 t'
                 attempt
                 his
                 fortune
                 .
                 But
                 this
                 Victory
              
               
                 〈◊〉
                 broke
                 our
                 State
                 ,
                 and
                 made
                 a
                 deeper
                 hurt
              
               
                 In
                 Flanders
                 then
                 the
                 g●eatest
                 overthrow
              
               
                 Sh●●ver
                 r●ceiv●d
                 :
                 For
                 Woolfort
                 n●w
                 beholding
              
               
                 H●m●el●
                 an●
                 actions
                 in
                 the
                 flattering
                 glass
              
               
                 O●
                 s●lf-deservings
                 ,
                 and
                 cherisn't
                 by
              
               
                 The
                 stro●g
                 assurance
                 of
                 his
                 power
                 ,
                 for
                 then
              
               
                 A●l
                 Cap●ains
                 of
                 th●
                 Army
                 were
                 his
                 creatures
                 ,
              
               
                 T●
                 c●mm●n
                 Souldier
                 too
                 at
                 his
                 devotion
                 ,
              
               
                 Made
                 so
                 by
                 full
                 indulgence
                 to
                 their
                 rapines
              
               
                 And
                 secret
                 b●un●i●s
                 ;
                 this
                 strength
                 too
                 well
                 known
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 what
                 it
                 could
                 effect
                 ,
                 soon
                 put
                 in
                 practice
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 fur●hered
                 by
                 the
                 child-hood
                 of
                 the
                 Earl
              
               
                 And
                 th●ir
                 improvidence
                 that
                 migh●
                 have
                 p●i●c't
              
               
                 The
                 hear●●f
                 his
                 designs
                 ,
                 gave
                 him
                 ●ccasion
              
               
                 To
                 sieze
                 the
                 whole
                 ,
                 and
                 in
                 that
                 plight
                 you
                 find
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I
                 receive
                 the
                 knowledge
                 of
                 thus
                 much
              
               
                 As
                 a
                 choice
                 favour
                 from
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 O●ly
                 I
                 must
                 add
                 ,
              
               
                 Bruges
                 holds
                 out
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Whether
                 sir
                 ,
                 I
                 am
                 going
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 there
                 last
                 nigh●
                 I
                 had
                 a
                 ship
                 put
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 my
                 horse
                 waits
                 me
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
               
                 Her.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 wish
                 you
                 a
                 good
                 journey
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 Woolfor●
                 ,
                 Hubert
              
               .
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ?
                 Hubert
                 stealing
                 from
                 me
                 !
                 who
                 disarm'd
                 him
                 ?
              
               
                 It
                 was
                 more
                 then
                 I
                 commanded
                 ;
                 take
                 your
                 sword
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 best
                 guarded
                 with
                 it
                 in
                 your
                 hand
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 seen
                 you
                 use
                 it
                 nobly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 will
                 turn
                 it
              
               
                 On
                 mine
                 own
                 bosom
                 ,
                 ere
                 it
                 shall
                 be
                 drawn
              
               
                 Unworthily
                 or
                 rudely
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 Would
                 you
                 leave
                 me
              
               
                 Without
                 a
                 farewel
                 ,
                 Hub●rt
                 ?
                 fly
                 a
                 friend
              
               
                 Unweari●d
                 in
                 his
                 study
                 to
                 advance
                 you
                 ?
              
               
                 What
                 have
                 I
                 ere
                 possess'd
                 which
                 was
                 not
                 you●s
                 ?
              
               
                 Or
                 either
                 did
                 not
                 court
                 you
                 to
                 command
                 it
                 ?
              
               
                 Who
                 ever
                 yet
                 arriv'd
                 to
                 any
                 grace
                 ,
              
               
                 Reward
                 or
                 trust
                 from
                 me
                 ,
                 but
                 his
                 approaches
              
               
                 Were
                 by
                 your
                 fair
                 reports
                 of
                 him
                 preferr'd
                 ?
              
               
                 And
                 what
                 is
                 more
                 ,
                 I
                 ma●●
                 my self
                 your
                 servant
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 making
                 you
                 the
                 master
                 of
                 those
                 secrets
              
               
                 Which
                 not
                 the
                 rack
                 of
                 conscience
                 could
                 draw
                 from
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 I
                 ,
                 when
                 I
                 askt
                 m●rcy
                 ,
                 tru●t
                 my
                 prayers
                 with
                 ;
              
               
                 Yet
                 after
                 these
                 assurances
                 of
                 love
                 ,
              
               
                 These
                 ties
                 and
                 bonds
                 of
                 friendship
                 ,
                 to
                 forsake
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Forsake
                 me
                 as
                 an
                 enemy
                 ?
                 come
                 you
                 must
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 a
                 reason
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 so
                 I
                 will
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 may
                 do
                 't
                 in
                 private
                 ,
                 and
                 you
                 hear
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 All
                 leave
                 the
                 room
                 :
                 you
                 have
                 your
                 will
                 ,
                 s●●
                 down
              
               
                 And
                 use
                 the
                 liberty
                 of
                 our
                 first
                 friendship
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Friendship
                 ?
                 when
                 you
                 prov'd
                 Traytor
                 first
                 that
                 vanish'd
                 ;
              
               
                 Nor
                 do
                 I
                 owe
                 you
                 any
                 though●
                 but
                 hate
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 my
                 ●ight
                 ha●h
                 forfeited
                 my
                 head
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 so
                 I
                 may
                 make
                 you
                 first
                 understand
              
               
                 What
                 a
                 strange
                 monster
                 you
                 have
                 made
                 your
                 sel●
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 welco●e
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 me
                 this
                 is
                 strange
                 language
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 you
                 ?
                 why
                 what
                 are
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Wool
                 
              
               
                 Your
                 Prince
                 and
                 Master
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 Earl
                 of
                 Flaunders
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 a
                 proper
                 title
                 ,
              
               
                 Rais'd
                 to
                 it
                 by
                 cunning
                 circumvention
                 ,
                 force
                 ,
              
               
                 Blood
                 ,
                 and
                 proscripti●●s
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 in
                 all
                 this
                 wisedom
                 ;
              
               
                 Had
                 I
                 not
                 reason
                 ?
                 when
                 by
                 Cerrards
                 plots
              
               
                 I
                 should
                 have
                 first
                 been
                 call'd
                 to
                 a
                 st●ict
                 accompt
                 ,
              
               
                 How
                 ,
                 and
                 which
                 way
                 I
                 had
                 consum'd
                 that
                 mass
              
               
                 Of
                 money
                 ,
                 as
                 they
                 term
                 it
                 ,
                 in
                 the
                 war
                 ,
              
               
                 Who
                 underhand
                 had
                 by
                 his
                 Ministers
              
               
                 Detracted
                 my
                 g●eat
                 action
                 ,
                 made
                 my
                 faith
              
               
                 And
                 loyalty
                 so
                 suspected
                 ;
                 in
                 which
                 ●ailing
              
               
                 He
                 sought
                 my
                 life
                 by
                 practice
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 With
                 what
                 fore-head
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 speak
                 this
                 to
                 me
                 ?
                 who
                 (
                 as
                 I
                 know
                 't
                 )
              
               
                 Must
                 and
                 will
                 say
                 't
                 is
                 false
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 guard
                 there
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 you
                 bad
                 me
                 sit
                 ,
                 and
                 promis'd
                 you
                 would
                 hear
              
               
                 Which
                 I
                 now
                 say
                 you
                 sha●l
                 ;
                 not
                 a
                 ●ound
                 more
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 I
                 that
                 am
                 conte●ner
                 of
                 mine
                 own
                 ,
              
               
                 Am
                 Master
                 of
                 your
                 life
                 ;
                 then
                 here
                 's
                 a
                 sword
              
               
                 Between
                 you
                 and
                 all
                 aids
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
                 though
                 you
                 blind
              
               
                 The
                 credulous
                 beast
                 ,
                 the
                 multitude
                 ,
                 you
                 pass
                 not
              
               
                 These
                 gross
                 untruths
                 ●n
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ?
                 gross
                 untruths
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 and
                 it
                 is
                 favourable
                 language
                 ,
              
               
                 They
                 had
                 been
                 in
                 a
                 mean
                 man
                 lies
                 and
                 soul
                 ones
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 take
                 strange
                 license
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 were
                 not
                 those
                 rumours
              
               
                 Of
                 being
                 called
                 unto
                 your
                 answers
                 ,
                 spread
              
               
                 By
                 your
                 own
                 followers
                 ;
                 and
                 weak
                 Gerrard
                 wrought
              
               
                 (
                 But
                 by
                 your
                 cunning
                 practice
                 )
                 to
                 believe
              
               
                 That
                 you
                 were
                 dangerous
                 ;
                 yet
                 not
                 to
                 be
              
               
                 Punish'd
                 by
                 any
                 formal
                 course
                 of
                 law
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 first
                 ●o
                 be
                 made
                 sure
                 ,
                 and
                 have
                 your
                 crimes
              
               
                 Laid
                 open
                 after
                 ,
                 which
                 your
                 queint
                 train
                 takeing
              
               
                 You
                 fled
                 unto
                 the
                 Camp
                 ,
                 and
                 th●re
                 crav'd
                 humbly
              
               
                 Protection
                 for
                 your
                 innocent
                 life
                 ,
                 and
                 that
                 ,
              
               
                 Since
                 you
                 h●d
                 scap'd
                 the
                 fury
                 of
                 the
                 war
                 ,
              
               
                 Y●u
                 might
                 not
                 fall
                 by
                 treason
                 ;
                 and
                 for
                 proof●
              
               
                 You
                 did
                 not
                 for
                 your
                 own
                 ends
                 make
                 this
                 dange●
                 ,
              
               
                 Some
                 that
                 had
                 been
                 before
                 by
                 you
                 subornd
                 ,
              
               
                 Came
                 sorth
                 and
                 took
                 their
                 oaths
                 they
                 had
                 been
                 hir'd
              
               
                 By
                 Gerrard
                 to
                 your
                 murther
                 This
                 once
                 hea●d
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 easily
                 believ'd
                 ,
                 th'
                 inraged
                 Souldier
              
               
               
                 Seeing
                 no
                 further
                 then
                 the
                 outward
                 man
                 ,
              
               
                 Snatch'd
                 h●st●ly
                 his
                 A●ms
                 ,
                 ran
                 to
                 the
                 Court
                 ,
              
               
                 Kill'd
                 all
                 that
                 made
                 resistance
                 ,
                 cut
                 in
                 pieces
              
               
                 Such
                 as
                 wer●
                 Servants
                 ,
                 or
                 thought
                 Friends
                 to
                 Gerrard
                 ,
              
               
                 Vowing
                 the
                 like
                 to
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 you
                 yet
                 end
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 W●ich
                 he
                 foreseeing
                 ,
                 with
                 his
                 Son
                 ,
                 the
                 Earl
                 ,
              
               
                 Forsook
                 the
                 City
                 ;
                 and
                 by
                 secret
                 ways
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 give
                 out
                 ,
                 and
                 we
                 would
                 gladly
                 have
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 Escap'd
                 their
                 fury
                 ;
                 though
                 't
                 is
                 more
                 then
                 fear'd
              
               
                 They
                 fell
                 among
                 the
                 rest
                 :
                 Nor
                 stand
                 you
                 there
              
               
                 To
                 let
                 us
                 only
                 mourn
                 the
                 impious
                 means
              
               
                 By
                 which
                 you
                 got
                 it
                 ;
                 but
                 your
                 cruelties
                 since
              
               
                 So
                 far
                 transcend
                 your
                 former
                 bloody
                 ills
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 if
                 compar'd
                 ,
                 they
                 only
                 would
                 appear
              
               
                 Essays
                 of
                 mischief
                 ;
                 do
                 not
                 stop
                 your
                 cars
                 ,
              
               
                 More
                 are
                 behind
                 yet
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 repeat
                 them
                 not
                 .
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 hell
                 to
                 hear
                 them
                 nam'd
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 should
                 have
                 thought
              
               
                 That
                 hell
                 would
                 be
                 your
                 punishment
                 when
                 you
                 did
                 them
                 .
              
               
                 A
                 Prince
                 in
                 nothing
                 but
                 your
                 Princely
                 lusts
              
               
                 And
                 boundless
                 rapines
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 more
                 ,
                 I
                 beseech
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 was
                 the
                 Lord
                 of
                 house
                 or
                 land
                 that
                 stood
              
               
                 Within
                 the
                 p●ospect
                 of
                 your
                 covetous
                 eye
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 in
                 this
                 to
                 me
                 a
                 greater
                 Tyrant
              
               
                 Then
                 ere
                 I
                 was
                 to
                 any
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 end
                 thus
              
               
                 The
                 general
                 grief
                 ,
                 now
                 to
                 my
                 private
                 wrong
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 loss
                 of
                 Gerrards
                 daughter
                 Iaqueline
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 hop'd
                 for
                 partner
                 of
                 my
                 lawful
                 bed
                 ,
              
               
                 Your
                 cruelty
                 hath
                 frighted
                 from
                 mine
                 arms
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 her
                 I
                 now
                 was
                 wandring
                 to
                 recover
                 .
              
               
                 Think
                 you
                 that
                 I
                 had
                 reason
                 now
                 to
                 leave
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 y●u
                 are
                 grown
                 so
                 justly
                 odious
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 ev'n
                 my
                 stay
                 here
                 ,
                 ,
                 with
                 your
                 grace
                 and
                 ●●vour
                 ,
              
               
                 Makes
                 my
                 life
                 irksome
                 ?
                 here
                 surely
                 take
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 do
                 me
                 b●t
                 this
                 fruit
                 of
                 al●
                 your
                 friendship
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 I
                 may
                 dye
                 by
                 you
                 ,
                 and
                 not
                 your
                 hangman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool
                 
              
               
                 O
                 Hubert
                 ,
                 these
                 your
                 words
                 and
                 reasons
                 have
              
               
                 As
                 well
                 drawn
                 drops
                 of
                 blood
                 from
                 my
                 griev'd
                 heart
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 these
                 tears
                 from
                 mine
                 eyes
                 ;
              
               
                 Despise
                 them
                 not
                 ;
              
               
                 By
                 all
                 that
                 's
                 sacred
                 I
                 am
                 serious
                 ,
                 Hubert
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 now
                 have
                 made
                 me
                 sensible
                 what
                 ●uries
                 ,
              
               
                 Whips
                 ,
                 hangmen
                 ,
                 and
                 tormentors
                 a
                 bad
                 man
              
               
                 Do's
                 ever
                 bear
                 about
                 him
                 :
                 let
                 the
                 good
              
               
                 That
                 you
                 this
                 day
                 have
                 done
                 ,
                 be
                 ever
                 numbred
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 first
                 of
                 your
                 best
                 actions
                 ;
              
               
                 Can
                 you
                 think
              
               
                 Where
                 Florez
                 is
                 ,
                 or
                 Gerrard
                 or
                 your
                 love
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 any
                 else
                 ,
                 or
                 all
                 that
                 are
                 p●oscrib'●
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 wi●l
                 resign
                 what
                 I
                 usu●p
                 ,
                 or
                 have
              
               
                 Unjustly
                 forc'd
                 ;
                 the
                 days
                 I
                 have
                 to
                 live
              
               
                 Are
                 too
                 too
                 few
                 to
                 make
                 them
                 satisfaction
              
               
                 With
                 any
                 penitence
                 ;
                 yet
                 I
                 vow
                 to
                 practise
              
               
                 All
                 of
                 a
                 man●
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 that
                 your
                 heart
                 and
                 tongue
              
               
                 Did
                 not
                 now
                 differ
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 my
                 griefs
                 they
                 do
                 not
                 ;
              
               
                 Take
                 the
                 good
                 pains
                 to
                 search
                 them
                 out
                 ;
                 't
                 is
                 worth
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 have
                 made
                 clean
                 a
                 Leper
                 ,
                 trust
                 me
                 you
                 have
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 made
                 me
                 once
                 more
                 fit
                 for
                 the
                 society
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 h●pe
                 ,
                 of
                 good
                 men
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 do
                 not
                 abuse
              
               
                 My
                 aptness
                 to
                 believe
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 Suspect
                 not
                 you
              
               
                 A
                 faith
                 that
                 's
                 built
                 upon
                 so
                 true
                 a
                 sorrow
                 ,
              
               
                 Make
                 your
                 own
                 safeties
                 ;
                 ask
                 them
                 all
                 the
                 ties
              
               
                 Humanity
                 can
                 give
                 ;
                 H●mskirick
                 too
                 shall
              
               
                 Along
                 with
                 you
                 to
                 this
                 so
                 wish'd
                 disc●very
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 in
                 my
                 name
                 profess
                 all
                 that
                 you
                 promise
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 will
                 give
                 you
                 this
                 help
                 ro't
                 ;
                 I
                 have
              
               
                 Of
                 late
                 receiv'd
                 certain
                 intelligence
              
               
                 That
                 some
                 of
                 them
                 are
                 in
                 or
                 about
                 Bruges
              
               
                 To
                 be
                 found
                 out
                 ;
                 which
                 I
                 did
                 then
                 interpret
              
               
                 The
                 cause
                 of
                 that
                 Towns
                 standing
                 out
                 against
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 now
                 am
                 glad
                 it
                 may
                 direct
                 your
                 purpose
              
               
                 Of
                 giving
                 them
                 their
                 safety
                 ,
                 and
                 me
                 peace
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Be
                 constant
                 to
                 your
                 goodness
                 ,
                 and
                 you
                 have
                 it
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Secunda
               .
            
             
               Enter
               three
               Merchants
               .
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 much
                 that
                 you
                 deliver
                 of
                 this
                 Goswin
                 .
              
            
             
               
               
                 2.
                 
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 short
                 of
                 what
                 I
                 could
                 ;
                 yet
                 have
                 the
                 Countrey
              
               
                 Confirm'd
                 it
                 true
                 ,
                 and
                 by
                 a
                 general
                 oath
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 not
                 a
                 man
                 hazard
                 his
                 credit
                 in
                 it●
              
               
                 H●b●ars
                 himself
                 with
                 such
                 a
                 confidence
              
               
                 As
                 if
                 he
                 were
                 ●●e
                 mast●r
                 of
                 the
                 Sea
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 not
                 a
                 wind
                 upon
                 the
                 Saylors
                 compass
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 from
                 one
                 part
                 or
                 other
                 was
                 his
                 Factor
                 ?
              
               
                 To
                 bring
                 him
                 i●
                 the
                 b●s●
                 commodities
              
               
                 Merchant
                 e're
                 ventur'd
                 for
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 strange
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 A●d
                 yet
              
               
                 This
                 do's
                 in
                 him
                 deserve
                 the
                 least
                 of
                 wonder
                 ,
              
               
                 Compared
                 with
                 other
                 his
                 peculi●r
                 fashions
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 all
                 admire
                 :
                 he
                 's
                 young
                 ,
                 and
                 rich
                 ,
                 at
                 least
              
               
                 Thus
                 far
                 reputed
                 so
                 ,
                 that
                 since
                 he
                 liv'd
              
               
                 In
                 Bruges
                 ,
                 there
                 was
                 never
                 brought
                 to
                 harbour
              
               
                 So
                 rich
                 a
                 Bottome
                 but
                 his
                 bill
                 would
                 pass
              
               
                 Unquestion'd
                 for
                 her
                 lading
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Y●●
                 he
                 still
              
               
                 Continues
                 a
                 good
                 man.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 good
                 ,
                 that
                 but
              
               
                 To
                 doubt
                 him
                 would
                 be
                 held
                 an
                 injury
              
               
                 Or
                 rather
                 malice
                 ,
                 with
                 the
                 best
                 that
                 traffique
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 this
                 is
                 nothing
                 ,
                 a
                 great
                 stock
                 ,
                 and
                 fortune
              
               
                 Crowning
                 his
                 judgment
                 in
                 his
                 u●dertakings
                 ,
              
               
                 May
                 keep
                 him
                 upright
                 that
                 way
                 :
                 But
                 that
                 wealth
              
               
                 Should
                 want
                 the
                 power
                 to
                 make
                 him
                 dote
                 on
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 youth
                 teach
                 him
                 to
                 wrong
                 it
                 ,
                 best
                 commends
              
               
                 His
                 constant
                 temper
                 ;
                 for
                 his
                 outward
                 habit
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 sutable
                 to
                 his
                 present
                 course
                 of
                 life
                 :
              
               
                 His
                 table
                 furnish'd
                 well
                 ,
                 but
                 not
                 with
                 dainties
                 .
              
               
                 That
                 please
                 the
                 appet●●e
                 only
                 for
                 their
                 rareness
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 the
                 dear
                 p●ice
                 :
                 no●
                 given
                 to
                 wine
                 or
                 women
              
               
                 Beyond
                 hi●
                 health
                 ,
                 ●r
                 warrant
                 of
                 a
                 man
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 mean
                 a
                 good
                 one
                 ;
                 and
                 so
                 loves
                 his
                 state
              
               
                 He
                 will
                 no●
                 hazard
                 it
                 at
                 play
                 ;
                 nor
                 lend
              
               
                 Upon
                 the
                 assurance
                 ●f
                 a
                 well
                 pen●'d
                 Letter
                 ,
              
               
                 Although
                 a
                 challenge
                 second
                 the
                 denial
                 ,
              
               
                 From
                 such
                 as
                 make
                 th'
                 opinion
                 of
                 their
                 valour
              
               
                 Their
                 means
                 of
                 ●eeding
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 These
                 are
                 ways
                 to
                 thrive
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 the
                 means
                 not
                 curs'd
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 follows
                 this
                 ,
              
               
                 Makes
                 many
                 〈◊〉
                 with
                 him
                 ,
                 in
                 their
                 wishes
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 his
                 prosperity
                 :
                 for
                 when
                 desert
              
               
                 Or
                 reason
                 leads
                 him
                 to
                 be
                 liberal
                 ,
              
               
                 His
                 noble
                 mind
                 and
                 ready
                 hand
                 contend
              
               
                 Which
                 can
                 add
                 mo●t
                 to
                 his
                 free
                 curtesies
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 in
                 their
                 worth
                 ,
                 or
                 speed
                 to
                 make
                 them
                 so
                 .
              
               
                 Is
                 there
                 a
                 virgin
                 of
                 good
                 fame
                 wan●s
                 dowre
                 ?
              
               
                 He
                 is
                 a
                 father
                 to
                 her
                 ;
                 or
                 a
                 Soldier
              
               
                 That
                 in
                 his
                 Countries
                 ser●ice
                 ,
                 from
                 the
                 war
              
               
                 Hath
                 brought
                 him
                 only
                 scars
                 and
                 want
                 ?
                 his
                 house
              
               
                 Receives
                 him
                 ,
                 and
                 relieves
                 him
                 with
                 that
                 care
              
               
                 As
                 if
                 what
                 he
                 possess'd
                 had
                 been
                 laid
                 up
              
               
                 For
                 such
                 good
                 uses
                 ,
                 and
                 he
                 steward
                 of
                 it
                 .
              
               
                 But
                 I
                 should
                 l●se
                 my
                 s●lf
                 to
                 sp●ak
                 him
                 further
              
               
                 And
                 stale
                 in
                 my
                 relation
                 ,
                 the
                 much
                 good
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 b●
                 witn●ss
                 of
                 ,
                 if
                 your
                 remove
              
               
                 From
                 Bruges
                 be
                 not
                 speedy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 report
              
               
                 I
                 do
                 assure
                 you
                 will
                 not
                 hasten
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 Nor
                 would
                 I
                 wish
                 a
                 better
                 man
                 to
                 deal
                 with
              
               
                 For
                 what
                 I
                 am
                 to
                 part
                 wi●h
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Never
                 doubt
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 He
                 is
                 your
                 man
                 and
                 ours
                 ▪
                 only
                 I
                 wish
              
               
                 His
                 too
                 much
                 forwardness
                 to
                 embrace
                 all
                 bargains
                 .
              
               
                 Suck
                 him
                 not
                 in
                 the
                 end
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 better
                 hopes
                 ;
              
               
                 For
                 my
                 part
                 I
                 am
                 confident
                 :
                 here
                 he
                 comes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 F●orez
                 and
                 the
                 fourth
                 Merchant
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 take
                 it
                 at
                 your
                 own
                 rates
                 ,
                 your
                 wine
                 of
                 Cyprus
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 for
                 your
                 Candy
                 sugars
                 ,
                 they
                 have
                 met
              
               
                 With
                 such
                 soul
                 wea●her
                 ,
                 and
                 are
                 priz'd
                 so
                 high
              
               
                 I
                 cannot
                 s●ve
                 in
                 them
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 unwilling
              
               
                 To
                 seek
                 ano●her
                 Chap-man
                 ;
                 make
                 me
                 offer
              
               
                 Of
                 something
                 near
                 my
                 price
                 ,
                 that
                 may
                 assure
                 me
              
               
                 Y●u
                 can
                 deal
                 for
                 them
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 both
                 can
                 ;
                 and
                 will
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 not
                 with
                 too
                 much
                 loss
                 ;
                 your
                 bill
                 of
                 lading
              
               
                 Speaks
                 of
                 two
                 hundred
                 chefts
                 ,
                 valued
                 by
                 you
              
               
                 At
                 thirty
                 thousand
                 g●●ders
                 :
                 I
                 will
                 have
                 them
                 ▪
              
               
                 At
                 twenty
                 eight
                 ;
                 so
                 ,
                 in
                 the
                 payment
                 of
              
               
                 Three
                 thousand
                 sterling
                 ,
                 you
                 fall
                 only
                 in
              
               
                 Two
                 hundred
                 pound
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 know
                 they
                 are
                 so
                 cheap
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 look
                 you
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 deal
                 fair●y
                 ,
                 there
                 's
                 in
                 pr●son
              
               
                 And
                 at
                 your
                 suit
                 ,
                 a
                 Pirate
                 ,
                 but
                 unable
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 you
                 satisfaction
                 ,
                 and
                 p●st
                 hope
              
               
               
                 To
                 live
                 a
                 week
                 ,
                 if
                 you
                 should
                 prosecute
              
               
                 What
                 you
                 can
                 prove
                 against
                 him
                 ;
                 set
                 him
                 free
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 you
                 shall
                 have
                 your
                 money
                 to
                 a
                 stiver
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 present
                 payment
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mar.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 above
                 wonder
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 Merchant
                 of
                 your
                 ranke
                 ,
                 that
                 have
                 at
                 sea
              
               
                 So
                 many
                 Bottoms
                 in
                 the
                 danger
                 of
              
               
                 These
                 water-the●ves
                 should
                 be
                 a
                 means
                 to
                 save
                 them
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 more
                 importing
                 you
                 for
                 your
                 own
                 s●fety
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 be
                 at
                 charge
                 to
                 s●●ur
                 the
                 sea
                 of
                 them
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 stay
                 the
                 sw●rd
                 of
                 Justice
                 ,
                 that
                 is
                 ready
              
               
                 To
                 fall
                 on
                 one
                 so
                 conscious
                 of
                 his
                 guilt
              
               
                 Th●t
                 he
                 dares
                 not
                 de●y
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Y●u
                 mistake
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 think
                 I
                 would
                 ch●rish
                 in
                 this
                 Captain
              
               
                 The
                 w●●ng
                 he
                 did
                 to
                 you
                 or
                 any
                 ma●
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 w●s
                 l●tely
                 with
                 him
                 ,
                 (
                 ●aving
                 fi●st
                 from
                 others
              
               
                 True
                 t●stimony
                 be●n
                 a●ured
                 ,
                 a
                 man
              
               
                 O
                 more
                 desert
                 never
                 put
                 from
                 the
                 shore
                 .
                 )
              
               
                 I
                 read
                 his
                 l●tters
                 of
                 Mart
                 from
                 this
                 State
                 granted
                 ,
              
               
                 F●r
                 the
                 r●covery
                 of
                 such
                 losses
                 as
              
               
                 He
                 ●ad
                 receiv'd
                 in
                 Spain
                 ;
                 't
                 was
                 that
                 he
                 aim'd
                 at
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 at
                 three
                 tuns
                 of
                 wine
                 ,
                 bisket
                 ,
                 or
                 beef
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 his
                 nec●ssity
                 made
                 him
                 take
                 from
                 you
                 .
              
               
                 If
                 he
                 had
                 pi●lag'd
                 you
                 near
                 ,
                 or
                 sunk
                 your
                 ship
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 thrown
                 your
                 men
                 o're-boord
                 ,
                 then
                 he
                 deserv'd
              
               
                 The
                 Laws
                 ex●reamest
                 rigour
                 :
                 But
                 since
                 want
              
               
                 Of
                 what
                 he
                 could
                 not
                 live
                 without
                 ,
                 compell'd
                 him
              
               
                 To
                 that
                 he
                 did
                 ,
                 (
                 which
                 yet
                 our
                 State
                 calls
                 death
                 )
              
               
                 I
                 pity
                 his
                 misfortune
                 ;
                 and
                 to
                 work
                 you
              
               
                 To
                 some
                 compassion
                 of
                 them
                 ,
                 I
                 come
                 up
              
               
                 To
                 your
                 own
                 price
                 :
                 save
                 him
                 ,
                 the
                 goods
                 are
                 mine
                 ;
              
               
                 If
                 not
                 ,
                 seek
                 else
                 where
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 not
                 deal
                 for
                 them
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 Sir
                 ,
                 for
                 your
                 love
                 I
                 will
                 once
                 be
                 lead
              
               
                 To
                 change
                 my
                 purpose
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 your
                 prof●
                 rather
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I'●e
                 p●esently
                 make
                 means
                 for
                 his
                 discharge
                 ,
              
               
                 Till
                 when
                 I
                 leave
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 do
                 you
                 think
                 of
                 this
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 of
                 a
                 deed
                 of
                 ●oble
                 pity
                 ,
                 guided
              
               
                 By
                 a
                 strong
                 judgement
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Save
                 you
                 Master
                 Goswin
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 day
                 to
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 bring
                 you
                 the
                 refusal
              
               
                 Of
                 more
                 Commodities
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 Are
                 you
                 the
                 owners
              
               
                 Of
                 the
                 Ship
                 that
                 last
                 night
                 put
                 into
                 the
                 Harbour
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Both
                 of
                 the
                 Ship
                 and
                 lading
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 's
                 the
                 fraught
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 
                   Indico
                   ,
                   Quitchincel
                
                 ,
                 choise
                 Chyna
                 st●●ff●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer
              
               
                 And
                 cloth
                 of
                 Gold
                 brought
                 from
                 Cam●all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 R●ch
                 lading
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 which
                 I
                 were
                 your
                 chapman
                 ,
                 but
                 I
                 am
              
               
                 Alr●ady
                 out
                 of
                 cash
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 give
                 you
                 day
              
               
                 For
                 the
                 moiety
                 of
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 long
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 S●x
                 moneths
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 a
                 fair
                 ●ff●r
                 ,
                 which
                 (
                 if
                 we
                 agree
              
               
                 About
                 the
                 prizes
                 )
                 I
                 with
                 thanks
                 accept
                 of
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 will
                 make
                 p●esent
                 payment
                 of
                 the
                 ●est
                 ;
              
               
                 Some
                 two
                 hou●s
                 hence
                 I
                 'le
                 come
                 aboord
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Gu●ner
                 shall
                 speak
                 you
                 welcome
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 not
                 fail
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 morrow
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                   Mer.
                   
                
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 grant
                 my
                 Ships
                 a
                 safe
                 return
                 before
              
               
                 The
                 day
                 of
                 this
                 great
                 payment
                 ,
                 as
                 they
                 are
                 .
              
               
                 Expected
                 three
                 moneths
                 sooner
                 ,
                 ●nd
                 my
                 credit
              
               
                 Stands
                 good
                 with
                 all
                 the
                 wo●ld
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Bless
                 my
                 good
                 Master
                 ;
              
               
                 The
                 prayers
                 of
                 your
                 poor
                 Beads-man
                 ever
                 shall
              
               
                 Be
                 sent
                 up
                 for
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 God
                 'a
                 mercy
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 something
                 to
                 put
                 thee
                 in
                 minde
                 hereafter
              
               
                 To
                 think
                 of
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 he
                 that
                 gave
                 it
                 you
              
               
                 Reward
                 you
                 for
                 it
                 ,
                 with
                 encr●ase
                 ,
                 good
                 Master
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thrive
                 the
                 better
                 for
                 thy
                 prayers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 hope
                 so
                 .
              
               
                 This
                 three
                 years
                 have
                 I
                 sed
                 upon
                 your
                 bounties
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 by
                 the
                 fire
                 of
                 your
                 blest
                 charity
                 warm'd
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 yet
                 ,
                 good
                 Master
                 ,
                 pard●n
                 me
                 ,
                 that
                 must
                 ,
              
               
                 Though
                 I
                 have
                 now
                 r●ceiv'd
                 your
                 almes
                 ;
                 presume
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 on
                 sute
                 more
                 to
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 't
                 Clause
                 ?
              
            
             
               
               
                 Ger
                 
              
               
                 Yet
                 do
                 not
                 think
                 me
                 impudent
                 I
                 beseech
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Since
                 hitherto
                 your
                 charity
                 hath
                 prevented
              
               
                 My
                 begging
                 your
                 relief
                 ;
                 't
                 is
                 not
                 for
                 money
              
               
                 Nor
                 cloaths
                 (
                 good
                 Maste●
                 )
                 but
                 your
                 good
                 word
                 for
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 thou
                 shalt
                 have
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ,
                 for
                 I
                 think
                 thee
                 honest
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 morrow
                 then
                 (
                 dear
                 M●ster
                 )
                 take
                 the
                 trouble
              
               
                 Of
                 walking
                 early
                 unto
                 
                   Beggars
                   Bush
                
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 as
                 you
                 see
                 me
                 among
                 others
                 (
                 B●ethren
              
               
                 In
                 my
                 affliction
                 )
                 when
                 you
                 are
                 demanded
              
               
                 Which
                 you
                 like
                 best
                 among
                 us
                 ,
                 point
                 out
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 then
                 pass
                 by
                 ,
                 as
                 if
                 you
                 knew
                 me
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 what
                 will
                 that
                 advantage
                 thee
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 much
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
              
               
                 'T
                 will
                 give
                 me
                 the
                 preheminence
                 of
                 the
                 rest
                 ,
              
               
                 Make
                 me
                 a
                 King
                 among
                 'em
                 ,
                 and
                 protect
                 me
              
               
                 From
                 all
                 ab●●e
                 such
                 as
                 are
                 stronge●
                 might
              
               
                 Offer
                 my
                 ag●
                 ;
                 Sir
                 ,
                 at
                 your
                 better
                 leizure
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 inform
                 you
                 further
                 of
                 the
                 good
              
               
                 It
                 may
                 do
                 to
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 '
                 Troth
                 thou
                 mak'st
                 me
                 wonder
                 ;
              
               
                 Have
                 you
                 a
                 King
                 and
                 Commonwealth
                 among
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 have
                 ,
                 and
                 there
                 are
                 S●ates
                 are
                 govern'd
                 worse
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Ambition
                 among
                 beggars
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Many
                 great
                 ones
              
               
                 Would
                 part
                 with
                 half
                 their
                 '
                 states
                 to
                 have
                 the
                 place
              
               
                 And
                 credit
                 to
                 beg
                 in
                 the
                 first
                 file
                 ,
                 Master
                 :
              
               
                 But
                 shall
                 I
                 be
                 so
                 much
                 bound
                 to
                 your
                 furtherance
              
               
                 In
                 my
                 petition
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 F●or
                 .
              
               
                 That
                 thou
                 sh●●t
                 not
                 miss
                 of
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 any
                 worldly
                 care
                 make
                 me
                 forget
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 be
                 early
                 there
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Heav●n
                 bless
                 my
                 Master
                 .
                 
                   Exeunt
                   .
                
              
            
          
        
         
           
             Actus
             Secund●s
             ,
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Prima
               .
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 Ferret
                 ,
                 Prig
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ,
                 Iaculine
                 ,
                 Snap
                 ,
                 Gy●kes
                 ,
                 and
                 other
                 Beggars
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 COme
                 P●i●ces
                 of
                 the
                 ragged
                 regime●●
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 o'
                 the
                 blood
                 ,
                 Prig
                 my
                 most
                 upright
                 Lord
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 these
                 (
                 what
                 name
                 or
                 title
                 e're
                 they
                 bear
                 )
              
               
                 Iarkman
                 ,
                 or
                 
                   Patrico
                   ,
                   Cranke
                
                 ,
                 or
                 Claperdudgeon
                 ,
              
               
                 Frat●r
                 or
                 
                   Abram
                   man
                
                 ;
                 I
                 speak
                 to
                 all
              
               
                 That
                 st●nd
                 in
                 fair
                 E●●ction
                 for
                 the
                 title
              
               
                 Of
                 King
                 of
                 Beggars
                 ,
                 with
                 the
                 command
                 adj●yning
                 ;
              
               
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 your
                 Orator
                 in
                 this
                 Inter-regnum
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 whilome
                 was
                 your
                 Dommerer
                 ;
                 doth
                 beseech
                 you
                 .
              
               
                 All
                 to
                 stand
                 fair
                 ,
                 and
                 put
                 your selves
                 in
                 rank
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 the
                 f●●st
                 comer
                 may
                 at
                 his
                 first
                 view
              
               
                 Make
                 a
                 free
                 choice
                 ,
                 to
                 say
                 up
                 the
                 question
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Pr.
                 'T
                 is
                 done
                 Lord
                 Higgen
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Thanks
                 ●o
                 Prince
                 Prig
                 ,
                 Prince
                 Ferret
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 ,
                 pray
                 my
                 Masters
                 all
                 Ferret
                 be
                 chosen
                 ;
              
               
                 Y'
                 are
                 like
                 to
                 have
                 a
                 merciful
                 milde
                 Prince
                 of
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 very
                 tyrant
                 ,
                 I
                 ,
                 an
                 arrant
                 tyrant
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 e're
                 I
                 come
                 to
                 reign
                 ;
                 therefore
                 look
                 to
                 't
                 ,
              
               
                 Except
                 you
                 do
                 provide
                 me
                 hum
                 enough
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Lour
                 to
                 bouze
                 with
                 :
                 I
                 must
                 have
                 my
                 Capons
              
               
                 And
                 Turkeyes
                 brought
                 me
                 in
                 ,
                 with
                 my
                 gre●n
                 Geese
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 ducklings
                 i'
                 th'
                 season
                 ;
                 fine
                 fat
                 chickens
                 ;
              
               
                 O●
                 if
                 you
                 chance
                 where
                 an
                 eye
                 of
                 tame
                 Phesants
              
               
                 O●
                 Partridges
                 are
                 kept
                 ,
                 see
                 they
                 be
                 mine
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 straight
                 I
                 seize
                 on
                 all
                 your
                 priviledge
                 ,
              
               
                 Places
                 ,
                 revenues
                 ,
                 offices
                 ,
                 as
                 forfeit
                 ;
              
               
                 Call
                 in
                 your
                 crutches
                 ,
                 wooden
                 legs
                 ,
                 fal●e
                 bellies
                 ,
              
               
                 Forc'd
                 eyes
                 and
                 teeth
                 ,
                 with
                 your
                 dead
                 arms
                 ,
                 nor
                 leave
                 you
              
               
                 A
                 durty
                 clout
                 to
                 beg
                 with
                 o'
                 your
                 heads
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 an
                 old
                 rag
                 with
                 Butter
                 ,
                 Frankinsence
                 ,
              
               
                 Brimstone
                 and
                 Roz●n
                 ,
                 birdlime
                 ,
                 blood
                 ,
                 and
                 cream
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 you
                 an
                 old
                 sore
                 ;
                 not
                 so
                 much
                 sope
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 may
                 f●me
                 with
                 i'●h
                 '
                 fa●ling-sickness
                 ;
              
               
                 The
                 very
                 bag
                 you
                 bea●
                 ,
                 and
                 the
                 brown
                 dish
              
               
                 Shall
                 be
                 escheated
                 .
                 Al●
                 your
                 dainti●st
                 dells
                 ▪
                 too
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 deflowr
                 ,
                 and
                 take
                 your
                 dearest
                 Doxy●s
              
               
                 From
                 your
                 warm
                 sides
                 ;
                 and
                 then
                 some
                 one
                 cold
                 night
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 watch
                 you
                 what
                 old
                 barn
                 you
                 go
                 to
                 roost
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 there
                 I
                 'le
                 smother
                 you
                 all
                 i'●h
                 '
                 musty
                 hay
                 .
              
            
             
               
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 tyrant-like
                 indeed
                 :
                 But
                 what
                 would
                 Gynkes
              
               
                 Or
                 Clause
                 be
                 here
                 ,
                 if
                 either
                 of
                 them
                 should
                 reign
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Best
                 ask
                 an
                 ass
                 ,
                 if
                 he
                 were
                 made
                 a
                 Cammel
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 he
                 would
                 be●
                 or
                 a
                 dog
                 ,
                 and
                 he
                 were
                 a
                 Lion.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Gynks
                 .
              
               
                 I
                 care
                 not
                 what
                 you
                 are
                 ,
                 Sirs
                 ,
                 I
                 shall
                 be
              
               
                 A
                 beggar
                 ,
                 still
                 ,
                 I
                 am
                 sure
                 ,
                 find
                 my self
                 there
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               .
            
             
               
                 Snap.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 here
                 a
                 Judge
                 comes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Cry
                 a
                 Judge
                 ,
                 a
                 Judge
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ail
                 you
                 ,
                 Sirs
                 ?
                 what
                 means
                 this
                 out-cry
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Master
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 sort
                 of
                 poor
                 souls
                 met
                 :
                 Gods
                 fools
                 ,
                 good
                 Master
                 ,
              
               
                 Have
                 had
                 some
                 little
                 variance
                 amongst
                 our selves
              
               
                 Who
                 should
                 be
                 honestest
                 of
                 us
                 ,
                 and
                 which
                 lives
              
               
                 Uprightest
                 in
                 his
                 call
                 :
                 Now
                 ,
                 'cause
                 we
                 thought
              
               
                 We
                 ne're
                 s●ould
                 gree
                 on
                 't
                 our selves
                 ,
                 because
              
               
                 Indeed
                 't
                 is
                 hard
                 to
                 say
                 ;
                 we
                 all
                 dissolv'd
                 to
                 put
                 it
              
               
                 To
                 whom
                 that
                 should
                 come
                 next
                 ,
                 and
                 that
                 's
                 you
                 ▪
                 Mastership
                 ,
              
               
                 Who
                 ,
                 I
                 hope
                 ,
                 will
                 te●mine
                 it
                 as
                 your
                 mind
                 serv●s
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Right
                 ,
                 and
                 no
                 otherwise
                 we
                 ask
                 it
                 :
                 which
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 does
                 your
                 Worship
                 think
                 is
                 he
                 ?
                 sweet
                 M●ster
                 ,
              
               
                 Look
                 ●ver
                 us
                 all
                 ,
                 and
                 tell
                 us
                 ;
                 we
                 are
                 seven
                 of
                 us
                 ,
              
               
                 Like
                 to
                 the
                 seven
                 wise
                 Masters
                 ,
                 or
                 the
                 Planets
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 should
                 judge
                 this
                 man
                 with
                 the
                 grave
                 beard
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 i●
                 he
                 be
                 not
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Bless
                 you
                 ,
                 good
                 Master
                 ,
                 bless
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 would
                 he
                 were
                 .
                 There
                 's
                 something
                 too
                 ,
                 amongst
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 keep
                 you
                 all
                 honest
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Snap.
                 
              
               
                 King
                 of
                 heaven
                 go
                 with
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Omn.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 good
                 reward
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 May
                 he
                 never
                 want
                 it
                 ,
                 to
                 comfort
                 still
                 the
                 poor
                 in
                 a
                 good
                 hour
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 't
                 ?
                 see
                 :
                 Snap
                 has
                 got
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Snap.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 good
                 crown
                 ,
                 marry
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 crown
                 of
                 gold
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 our
                 new
                 King
                 :
                 good
                 luck
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Gynks
                 .
              
               
                 To
                 the
                 common
                 treasury
                 with
                 it
                 ;
                 if
                 't
                 be
                 gold
              
               
                 Thither
                 it
                 must
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Spoke
                 like
                 a
                 Patriot
                 ,
                 Ferret
                 .
                 —
              
               
                 King
                 Clause
                 ,
                 I
                 bid
                 God
                 save
                 thee
                 first
                 ,
                 first
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 After
                 this
                 golden
                 token
                 of
                 a
                 crown
                 ;
              
               
                 Where
                 's
                 Oratour
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 with
                 his
                 gratulating
                 speech
                 now
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 all
                 our
                 names
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 he
                 is
                 pumping
                 for
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 H'
                 has
                 c●ugh'd
                 the
                 second
                 time
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 once
                 more
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 then
                 it
                 comes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 ,
                 out
                 with
                 all
                 :
                 expect
                 now
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 that
                 ar●
                 chosen
                 ,
                 venerabl●
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 Our
                 King
                 and
                 Sovereign
                 ,
                 Monarch
                 o'
                 th'
                 Maunders
                 .
              
               
                 Thus
                 we
                 throw
                 up
                 our
                 N●b-c●eats
                 first
                 for
                 joy
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 then
                 our
                 filches
                 ▪
                 last
                 we
                 clap
                 our
                 fambles
                 ,
              
               
                 Three
                 subject
                 signs
                 ,
                 we
                 do
                 it
                 without
                 envy
                 :
              
               
                 For
                 who
                 is
                 he
                 here
                 did
                 not
                 wish
                 thee
                 chosen
                 ,
              
               
                 Now
                 thou
                 art
                 chosen
                 ?
                 ask
                 'em
                 :
                 all
                 will
                 say
                 ●o
                 ,
              
               
                 Nay
                 swea●'t
                 ;
                 '
                 ●is
                 for
                 the
                 King
                 ;
                 but
                 let
                 that
                 pass
                 .
              
               
                 When
                 last
                 in
                 conference
                 at
                 the
                 bouzing
                 ken
              
               
                 This
                 other
                 day
                 ,
                 we
                 sate
                 about
                 our
                 dead
                 Prince
              
               
                 Of
                 famous
                 memory
                 ,
                 (
                 rest
                 go
                 with
                 his
                 rags
                 :
                 )
              
               
                 And
                 that
                 I
                 saw
                 thee
                 at
                 the
                 tables
                 end
              
               
                 Rise
                 mov'd
                 ,
                 and
                 gravely
                 leaning
                 on
                 one
                 Crutch
                 ,
              
               
                 Lift
                 the
                 other
                 like
                 a
                 Scepter
                 at
                 my
                 head
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 then
                 presag'd
                 thou
                 shortly
                 wouldst
                 be
                 King
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 thou
                 art
                 so
                 :
                 but
                 what
                 need
                 presage
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 us
                 ,
                 that
                 might
                 have
                 read
                 it
                 in
                 thy
                 beard
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 well
                 as
                 he
                 that
                 chose
                 thee
                 ?
                 by
                 that
                 beard
              
               
                 Thou
                 wert
                 found
                 out
                 ,
                 and
                 mark'd
                 for
                 Soveraignty
                 .
              
               
                 O
                 happy
                 beard
                 !
                 but
                 happier
                 Prince
                 ,
                 whose
                 beard
              
               
                 Was
                 ●o
                 remark'd
                 as
                 marked
                 out
                 our
                 Prince
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 bating
                 us
                 a
                 hair
                 .
                 L●ng
                 may
                 it
                 grow
                 ,
              
               
                 A●d
                 thick
                 ,
                 ●nd
                 fair
                 ,
                 that
                 who
                 lives
                 under
                 it
              
               
                 May
                 live
                 as
                 safe
                 as
                 unde●
                 
                   Beggars
                   Bush
                
                 ,
              
               
                 Of
                 which
                 this
                 is
                 the
                 thing
                 ,
                 ●hat
                 bu●●●●ype
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Omn.
                 
              
               
                 Excellen●
                 ,
                 ●xc●ll●nt
                 O
                 〈◊〉
                 good
                 Higgen
                 ;
              
               
                 Give
                 him
                 leave
                 to
                 s●it
                 ;
                 the
                 ●in
                 ,
                 well
                 ●p●ken
                 Hi●gen
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig
                 
              
               
                 ●is
                 is
                 the
                 beard
                 ,
                 the
                 b●sh
                 ,
                 or
                 b●shyb●ar●
                 ,
              
               
               
                 Under
                 whose
                 ●●ld
                 and
                 silver
                 ●●ign
                 't
                 was
                 said
              
               
                 So
                 many
                 Ages
                 since
                 we
                 all
                 should
                 smile
              
               
                 On
                 impositions
                 ,
                 taxes
                 ,
                 grievances
                 ,
              
               
                 Knots
                 in
                 a
                 State
                 ,
                 and
                 whips
                 unto
                 a
                 Subject
                 ,
              
               
                 Lye
                 lurking
                 in
                 this
                 beard
                 ,
                 but
                 all
                 hem'd
                 out
                 :
              
               
                 If
                 now
                 the
                 beard
                 be
                 such
                 ,
                 what
                 is
                 the
                 Prince
              
               
                 That
                 owes
                 the
                 beard
                 ?
                 a
                 father
                 ;
                 no
                 ,
                 a
                 grandfather
                 ;
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 the
                 great-grandfather
                 of
                 you
                 his
                 people
                 .
              
               
                 He
                 will
                 not
                 force
                 away
                 your
                 hens
                 ,
                 your
                 bacon
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 you
                 have
                 vent●r'd
                 hard
                 for
                 't
                 ,
                 nor
                 take
                 from
                 you
              
               
                 The
                 fattest
                 of
                 your
                 puddings
                 ;
                 under
                 him
              
               
                 Each
                 man
                 shall
                 eat
                 his
                 own
                 stoln
                 eggs
                 and
                 butter
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 his
                 own
                 shade
                 ,
                 or
                 sun-shine
                 ,
                 and
                 enjoy
              
               
                 His
                 own
                 dear
                 De●l
                 ,
                 Doxy
                 ,
                 or
                 Mort
                 ,
                 at
                 night
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 his
                 own
                 straw
                 ,
                 with
                 his
                 own
                 shirt
                 ,
                 or
                 sheer
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 he
                 hath
                 filtch'd
                 that
                 day
                 ,
                 I
                 ,
                 and
                 possess
              
               
                 What
                 he
                 can
                 pu●chase
                 ,
                 back
                 or
                 belly
                 cheats
              
               
                 To
                 his
                 own
                 pr●p
                 ;
                 he
                 will
                 have
                 no
                 purveyors
              
               
                 For
                 Pigs
                 and
                 Poultry
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 we
                 must
                 have
                 my
                 learned
                 Oratour
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 is
                 our
                 will
                 ,
                 and
                 every
                 man
                 to
                 keep
              
               
                 In
                 his
                 own
                 path
                 and
                 circuit
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 hear
                 ?
              
               
                 You
                 must
                 hereafter
                 maund
                 on
                 your
                 own
                 pads
                 he
                 saies
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 what
                 they
                 get
                 there
                 is
                 their
                 own
                 ,
                 besides
              
               
                 To
                 give
                 good
                 words
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 mark
                 ?
                 to
                 cut
                 bene
                 whids
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 is
                 the
                 second
                 Law.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 keep
                 afoot
              
               
                 The
                 humble
                 and
                 the
                 common
                 phrase
                 of
                 begging
                 ,
              
               
                 Lest
                 me●
                 discover
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 and
                 cry
                 some●imes
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 move
                 compassion
                 :
                 Sir
                 ,
                 there
                 is
                 a
                 table
              
               
                 That
                 doth
                 c●mmand
                 all
                 these
                 things
                 ,
                 and
                 enjoy●s
                 'em
              
               
                 Be
                 perfect
                 in
                 their
                 crutches
                 ,
                 their
                 fain'd
                 p●aisters
              
               
                 And
                 th●ir
                 true
                 pass-ports
                 ,
                 with
                 the
                 ways
                 to
                 stammer
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 to
                 be
                 dumb
                 ,
                 and
                 dea●
                 ,
                 and
                 blind
                 ,
                 and
                 lame
                 ;
              
               
                 Th●re
                 all
                 ●he
                 halting
                 paces
                 are
                 set
                 down
              
               
                 I'
                 th'
                 learned
                 language
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Thither
                 I
                 refer
                 them
                 ;
              
               
                 Those
                 you
                 at
                 leasure
                 shall
                 inte●pret
                 to
                 them
                 ;
              
               
                 We
                 love
                 no
                 heaps
                 of
                 Laws
                 where
                 few
                 will
                 serve
              
            
             
               
                 Omn.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 gracious
                 Prince
                 ,
                 'save
                 ,
                 'save
                 the
                 good
                 King
                 Clause
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 Song
                 to
                 crown
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 S●t
                 a
                 Centinel
                 out
                 first
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Sn.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 word
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig
                 
              
               
                 A
                 Cove
                 comes
                 ,
                 and
                 fumbumbis
                 to
                 it
                 .
                 —
                 
                   Strike
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 The
                 Song
                 .
              
               
                 CAst
                 our
                 caps
                 and
                 cares
                 away
                 ,
                 this
                 is
                 beggars
                 Holy-●ay
                 ;
              
               
                 At
                 the
                 Crowning
                 of
                 our
                 King
                 ,
                 thus
                 we
                 ever
                 dance
                 and
                 sing
                 :
              
               
                 In
                 the
                 world
                 look
                 out
                 and
                 see
                 ,
                 where
                 so
                 happy
                 a
                 Prince
                 as
                 he
                 ?
              
               
                 Where
                 the
                 Nation
                 live
                 so
                 free
                 ,
                 and
                 so
                 merry
                 as
                 do
                 we
                 ?
              
               
                 Be
                 it
                 peace
                 ,
                 or
                 be
                 it
                 war
                 ▪
                 here
                 at
                 liberty
                 we
                 are
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 enjoy
                 our
                 ease
                 and
                 rest
                 ;
                 to
                 the
                 field
                 we
                 are
                 not
                 prest
                 ;
              
               
                 Nor
                 are
                 called
                 into
                 the
                 Town
                 ,
                 to
                 be
                 troubled
                 with
                 the
                 Gown
                 .
              
               
                 Hang
                 all
                 Offices
                 we
                 cry
                 ,
                 an●
                 the
                 Magistrate
                 to●
                 ,
                 by
                 :
              
               
                 When
                 the
                 sub●i●ie's
                 increast
                 we
                 are
                 not
                 a
                 penny
                 ceast
                 :
              
               
                 Nor
                 will
                 any
                 go
                 to
                 law
                 with
                 the
                 B●g●ar
                 for
                 a
                 straw
                 .
              
               
                 All
                 which
                 happiness
                 he
                 brags
                 ,
                 he
                 doth
                 ow●
                 unto
                 his
                 rags
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Snap
               ,
               Hubert
               ,
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Snap.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 Cove
                 :
                 Fumbumbis
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 your
                 postures
                 ;
                 arm
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Yonder
                 's
                 the
                 Town
                 ▪
                 I
                 see
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hemsk.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 our
                 danger
              
               
                 Indeed
                 afore
                 us
                 ,
                 if
                 our
                 shaddows
                 save
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Bless
                 your
                 good
                 Worships
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 One
                 small
                 piece
                 of
                 mon●y
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Amongst
                 us
                 all
                 poor
                 wretches
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Blind
                 and
                 lame
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Gynks
                 .
              
               
                 For
                 his
                 s●ke
                 that
                 gives
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 P●●iful
                 Worships
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Snap.
                 
              
               
                 One
                 little
                 ●oyt
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Iaculine
               .
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 King
                 ,
                 by
                 you
                 leave
                 ,
                 where
                 are
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 buy
                 a
                 little
                 bread
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 feed
                 so
                 many
              
               
                 Mouths
                 as
                 will
                 ever
                 pray
                 for
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 be
                 seven
                 of
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Seven
                 good
                 Master
                 ,
                 O
                 remember
                 seven
                 ,
                 Seven
                 b●●ssings
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Remember
                 ,
                 gentle
                 Worship
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 'Gainst
                 seven
                 deadly
                 sins
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 seven
                 sleepers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I●
                 they
                 be
                 h●●d
                 of
                 heart
                 ,
                 and
                 will
                 give
                 nothing
                 .
                 —
              
               
                 Alas
                 ,
                 we
                 had
                 not
                 a
                 charity
                 this
                 three
                 days
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 amongst
                 you
                 all
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 reward
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Lord
                 reward
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Prince
                 of
                 pitty
                 bless
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 I
                 see
                 ?
                 or
                 is
                 't
                 my
                 fancy
                 that
                 would
                 have
                 it
                 so
                 ?
              
               
                 Ha
                 ?
                 't
                 is
                 her
                 face
                 :
                 come
                 hither
                 maid
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ha'
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Bells
                 for
                 my
                 squirrel
                 ?
                 I
                 ha'
                 giv'n
                 Bun
                 meat
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 do
                 not
                 love
                 me
                 ,
                 do
                 you
                 ?
                 catch
                 me
                 a
                 butte●fly
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 'le
                 love
                 you
                 again
                 ;
                 when
                 ?
                 can
                 you
                 tell
                 ?
              
               
                 Peace
                 ,
                 we
                 go
                 a
                 birding
                 :
                 I
                 shall
                 have
                 a
                 fine
                 thing
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Her
                 voice
                 too
                 saies
                 the
                 same
                 ;
                 but
                 for
                 my
                 head
              
               
                 I
                 would
                 not
                 that
                 her
                 manners
                 were
                 so
                 chang'd
                 :
              
               
                 Hear
                 me
                 thou
                 honest
                 fellow
                 ;
                 what
                 's
                 this
                 mayden
              
               
                 That
                 lives
                 amongst
                 you
                 here
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 Ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ?
                 nothing
                 but
                 signes
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 Ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 ,
                 ao
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 strange
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 would
                 fain
                 have
                 it
                 her
                 ,
                 but
                 not
                 her
                 thus
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 is
                 de-de-de-de-de-de-deaf
                 ,
                 and
                 du-du-dude-dumb
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 'Slid
                 they
                 did
                 all
                 speak
                 plain
                 even
                 now
                 methought
                 ;
              
               
                 Dost
                 thou
                 know
                 this
                 same
                 maid
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Sn.
                 
              
               
                 Why-why-why-why-which
                 ,
                 gu-gu-gu-gu
                 Gods
                 fool
                 ,
              
               
                 She
                 was
                 bo-bo-bo-bo-b●rn
                 at
                 the
                 barn
                 yonder
                 ,
              
               
                 By
                 be-be-b●-be-B●ggars
                 Bush●bo
                 bo-Bush
                 ;
              
               
                 Her
                 name
                 is
                 My-my-my-my-my-match
                 ,
                 so
                 was
                 her
                 mo-mo-mo-mothers
                 too-too
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 understand
                 no
                 word
                 she
                 says
                 ;
                 how
                 long
              
               
                 Has
                 she
                 been
                 here
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Sn.
                 
              
               
                 L●-lo-long
                 enough
                 to
                 be
                 ni-ni
                 nigled
                 ,
                 and
                 she
                 ha'
                 go-go-go-good
                 luck
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 be
                 better
                 inform'd
                 then
                 by
                 this
                 way
                 .
              
               
                 Here
                 was
                 another
                 face
                 too
                 that
                 I
                 mark'd
                 ,
              
               
                 O
                 the
                 old
                 mans
                 :
                 but
                 they
                 are
                 vanish'd
                 all
              
               
                 Most
                 suddenly
                 ;
                 I
                 will
                 come
                 here
                 again
                 :
              
               
                 O
                 ▪
                 that
                 I
                 were
                 so
                 happy
                 as
                 to
                 find
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 I
                 yet
                 hope
                 it
                 is
                 put
                 on
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 H●m
                 .
              
               
                 What
                 mean
                 you
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 stay
                 there
                 with
                 that
                 stammerer
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Farewel
                 friend
                 ;
                 —
              
               
                 It
                 will
                 be
                 worth
                 return
                 to
                 search
                 :
                 Come
                 ,
              
               
                 Protect
                 us
                 our
                 disguise
                 now
                 ;
                 pre'thee
                 Hemskirk
              
               
                 If
                 we
                 b●
                 taken
                 ,
                 ●ow
                 dost
                 thou
                 imagine
              
               
                 This
                 Town
                 will
                 use
                 us
                 ,
                 that
                 hath
                 ●tood
                 so
                 long
              
               
                 Out
                 against
                 Woolfort
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Ev'n
                 to
                 hang
                 us
                 forth
              
               
                 Upon
                 their
                 walls
                 a
                 sunning
                 ,
                 to
                 make
                 Crows
                 meat
                 ;
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 were
                 no●
                 assur'd
                 o'
                 the
                 Burgoma●ter
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 had
                 a
                 pretty
                 scuce
                 to
                 ●ee
                 a
                 niece
                 there
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 should
                 scarce
                 venture
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 now
                 too
                 late
              
               
                 To
                 look
                 back
                 at
                 the
                 p●rts
                 :
                 good
                 luck
                 ,
                 and
                 enter
                 .
                 
                   Exeunt
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Secunda
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               .
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Still
                 blowst
                 thou
                 there
                 ?
                 and
                 ●rom
                 all
                 other
                 parts
                 ,
              
               
                 Do
                 all
                 my
                 Agents
                 sleep
                 ,
                 that
                 nothing
                 comes
                 ?
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 a
                 conspiracy
                 of
                 winds
                 and
                 servants
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 not
                 of
                 Elements
                 ,
                 to
                 ha'
                 me
                 break
                 .
              
               
                 What
                 should
                 I
                 think
                 ,
                 unless
                 the
                 Seas
                 and
                 sands
              
               
                 Had
                 swallow'd
                 up
                 my
                 ships
                 ?
                 or
                 fire
                 had
                 spoil'd
              
               
                 My
                 ware-houses
                 ?
                 or
                 death
                 devour'd
                 my
                 Factors
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 ha'
                 had
                 some
                 ●eturns
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Merchants
               .
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 'Save
                 you
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 'Save
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 news
                 yet
                 o'
                 your
                 Ships
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 any
                 yet
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 strange
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fl.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 true
                 Sir
                 ▪
                 what
                 a
                 voice
                 was
                 here
                 now
                 ?
              
               
               
                 This
                 was
                 one
                 passing
                 be●l
                 ;
                 a
                 thou●and
                 ravens
              
               
                 Sung
                 in
                 that
                 man
                 now
                 ,
                 to
                 presage
                 my
                 ruine
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Goswin
                 ,
                 good
                 day
                 ,
                 these
                 w●●ds
                 are
                 ve●y
                 constant
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo
                 
              
               
                 They
                 are
                 so
                 Sir.
                 to
                 hurt
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Ha'
                 you
                 had
                 no
                 Letters
              
               
                 Lately
                 from
                 England
                 ,
                 nor
                 from
                 Denmark
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Neither
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 wind
                 b●ings
                 them
                 ;
                 nor
                 no
                 news
                 over
                 land
                 ,
              
               
                 Through
                 Spain
                 ,
                 from
                 the
                 Straights
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 any
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 sorry
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 They
                 ●alk
                 me
                 down
                 ;
                 and
                 as
                 't
                 is
                 said
                 of
                 Vultures
                 ,
              
               
                 They
                 scent
                 a
                 field
                 sought
                 ,
                 and
                 do
                 smell
                 the
                 carkasses
              
               
                 B●
                 many
                 hundred
                 miles
                 :
                 So
                 do
                 these
                 my
                 wracks
              
               
                 At
                 greater
                 distances
                 :
                 why
                 ,
                 thy
                 will
                 heaven
              
               
                 Come
                 on
                 and
                 be
                 :
                 yet
                 if
                 thou
                 please
                 ,
                 preserve
                 me
              
               
                 But
                 in
                 mine
                 own
                 adventure
                 here
                 at
                 home
                 ,
              
               
                 Of
                 my
                 chast
                 love
                 ▪
                 to
                 keep
                 me
                 worthy
                 of
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 shall
                 be
                 put
                 in
                 scale
                 against
                 all
                 i●l
                 fortunes
                 :
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 not
                 broken
                 yet
                 ,
                 nor
                 should
                 I
                 f●ll
                 ,
              
               
                 Me
                 thinks
                 ,
                 with
                 less
                 then
                 that
                 that
                 ruines
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               .
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Tertia
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Van-dunck
               ,
               Hubert
               ,
               Hemskirck
               ,
               and
               Margaret
               ,
               Boors
               .
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Captain
                 ,
                 you
                 are
                 welcome
                 ;
                 so
                 is
                 this
                 your
                 f●iend
              
               
                 Most
                 saf●ly
                 welcome
                 ;
                 though
                 our
                 Town
                 stand
                 out
              
               
                 Against
                 your
                 Master
                 ,
                 you
                 shall
                 find
                 good
                 quarter
                 ;
              
               
                 The
                 truth
                 is
                 ,
                 we
                 not
                 love
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Meg.
                 
              
               
                 some
                 wine
                 ;
              
               
                 Let
                 's
                 ta●k
                 a
                 little
                 treason
                 ,
                 if
                 we
                 can
              
               
                 Talk
                 treason
                 'gainst
                 the
                 Traytors
                 ;
                 by
                 your
                 leave
                 Gentlemen
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 here
                 in
                 Bruges
                 think
                 he
                 does
                 usurp
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 therefore
                 I
                 am
                 bold
                 with
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 your
                 boldness
              
               
                 Haply
                 become
                 ,
                 your
                 mouth
                 ,
                 but
                 not
                 our
                 ears
                 ,
              
               
                 While
                 we
                 are
                 his
                 servants
                 ;
                 And
                 as
                 we
                 come
                 here
              
               
                 Not
                 to
                 ask
                 questions
                 ,
                 walk
                 forth
                 on
                 your
                 wa●ls
                 ,
              
               
                 Visi
                 ▪
                 your
                 Courts
                 of
                 Guard
                 ,
                 view
                 your
                 munition
                 ,
              
               
                 Ask
                 of
                 your
                 corn-provisions
                 ,
                 nor
                 i●quire
              
               
                 Into
                 the
                 least
                 ,
                 as
                 spies
                 upon
                 your
                 strengths
                 ;
              
               
                 So
                 let
                 's
                 entr●●t
                 we
                 may
                 receive
                 from
                 you
              
               
                 Nothing
                 in
                 passage
                 or
                 discourse
                 ,
                 but
                 what
              
               
                 We
                 may
                 with
                 gladness
                 a●d
                 our
                 honesties
                 hear
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 that
                 sh●ll
                 ●ealou●
                 welcome
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 G●od
                 ;
                 let
                 's
                 drink
                 then
                 ;
              
               
                 Mage
                 ,
                 fill
                 out
                 ;
                 I
                 keep
                 mine
                 own
                 pearl
                 still
                 Captain
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Mar.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 hang
                 fast
                 man.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Old
                 Jewels
                 commend
                 their
                 keeper
                 ,
                 Sir
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 to
                 you
                 with
                 a
                 heart
                 ,
                 my
                 Captains
                 friend
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 a
                 good
                 heart
                 ;
                 and
                 if
                 this
                 make
                 us
                 speak
              
               
                 Bold
                 words
                 anon
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 all
                 under
                 the
                 R●se
              
               
                 Forgotten
                 :
                 drown
                 all
                 memory
                 when
                 we
                 drink
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 freely
                 sp●ken
                 ,
                 noble
                 Burgomaster
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 do
                 you
                 ●ight
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 mine
                 heir
                 Vandun●k
              
               
                 Is
                 a
                 t●ue
                 S●ates
                 man.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Fill
                 my
                 Captains
                 cup
                 there
                 ;
                 O
                 that
                 your
                 M●ster
                 Woolfort
              
               
                 Had
                 been
                 an
                 honest
                 man
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 Rose
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 H●m
                 .
              
               
                 Her●'s
                 to
                 you
                 Marget
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Mar.
                 
              
               
                 Welcome
                 ,
                 welcome
                 Captain
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 said
                 my
                 pearl
                 still
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 how
                 does
                 my
                 Niece
                 ?
              
               
                 Almost
                 a
                 woman
                 ,
                 I
                 think
                 ?
                 This
                 friend
                 of
                 mine
              
               
                 I
                 drew
                 alon●
                 with
                 me
                 through
                 so
                 much
                 hazard
                 ,
              
               
                 Only
                 to
                 see
                 her
                 ;
                 she
                 was
                 my
                 err●nd
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 a
                 kind
                 Uncle
                 you
                 are
                 ,
                 (
                 fill
                 him
                 his
                 glass
                 )
              
               
                 That
                 in
                 seven
                 years
                 could
                 not
                 find
                 leasure
                 .
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 's
                 not
                 so
                 much
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 bate
                 you
                 nev'r
                 an
                 hour
                 on
                 't
                 :
              
               
                 It
                 was
                 b●fore
                 the
                 Brabander
                 'gan
                 his
                 war
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 moon-shine
                 ,
                 i'
                 th'
                 water
                 there
                 ,
                 his
                 daughter
              
               
                 That
                 never
                 was
                 lost
                 ;
                 yet
                 you
                 could
                 not
                 fi●de
                 time
              
               
                 To
                 see
                 a
                 Kinswoman
                 :
                 but
                 she
                 is
                 worth
                 the
                 seeing
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ▪
              
               
               
                 Now
                 you
                 are
                 〈◊〉
                 ,
                 you
                 ask
                 if
                 she
                 were
                 a
                 woman
                 ?
              
               
                 She
                 is
                 a
                 woman
                 ▪
                 Sir
                 ;
                 fetch
                 her
                 forth
                 Marget
                 .
              
               
                 Exit
                 Marg.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 a
                 fine
                 woman
                 ,
                 and
                 has
                 suitors
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ▪
              
               
                 What
                 suitors
                 are
                 they
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Batchelors
                 ;
                 young
                 Burgers
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 one
                 a
                 gallant
                 ,
                 the
                 young
                 Prince
                 of
                 Merchants
              
               
                 We
                 call
                 him
                 here
                 in
                 Bruges
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ?
                 ●
                 Merchant
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 thought
                 Van-dunck
                 ,
                 you
                 had
                 understood
                 me
                 better
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 my
                 Niece
                 too
                 ,
                 so
                 trusted
                 to
                 you
                 by
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 T●an
                 to
                 admit
                 of
                 such
                 in
                 name
                 of
                 suitors
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Such
                 ?
                 he
                 is
                 such
                 a
                 such
                 ,
                 as
                 were
                 she
                 mine
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'de
                 give
                 him
                 thirty
                 thousand
                 Crowns
                 with
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 the
                 same
                 things
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 fit
                 not
                 you
                 and
                 me
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Va●
                 .
              
               
                 Why
                 ,
                 give
                 's
                 some
                 wine
                 then
                 ;
                 this
                 will
                 fit
                 us
                 all
                 :
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 to
                 you
                 still
                 ,
                 my
                 Captains
                 friend
                 ;
                 all
                 out
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 sti●l
                 ,
                 would
                 Woolfort
                 were
                 an
                 honest
                 man
                 ,
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 Rose
                 I
                 speak
                 it
                 :
                 But
                 this
                 M●rchant
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 a
                 brave
                 boy
                 ;
                 he
                 lives
                 so
                 i'
                 the
                 Town
                 here
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 know
                 not
                 what
                 to
                 think
                 on
                 him
                 ;
                 At
                 some
                 times
              
               
                 We
                 fea●
                 he
                 wi●l
                 b●
                 bankrup●
                 ,
                 he
                 does
                 st●etch
              
               
                 T●nter
                 his
                 credit
                 so
                 ;
                 embraces
                 all
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 to
                 't
                 ,
                 the
                 winds
                 have
                 be●n
                 contrary
                 long
                 :
              
               
                 But
                 then
                 if
                 he
                 should
                 ●ave
                 a●l
                 his
                 returns
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 t●ink
                 he
                 would
                 be
                 a
                 King
                 ,
                 and
                 a●
                 half
                 sure
                 〈◊〉
                 .
              
               
                 Y●ur
                 〈◊〉
                 a
                 Tr●ytor
                 ,
                 for
                 all
                 this
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 Ro●e
                 ;
                 〈◊〉
                 to
                 you
                 ;
                 and
                 usurps
              
               
                 The
                 Ea●ldom
                 from
                 a
                 b●tter
                 man.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 marry
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 Where
                 is
                 that
                 ●●an
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 soft
                 ▪
                 and
                 I
                 could
                 te●l
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 ten
                 to
                 one
                 I
                 would
                 not
                 :
                 here
                 's
                 my
                 hand
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 love
                 not
                 Woolfort
                 ;
                 sit
                 you
                 still
                 with
                 that
                 :
              
               
                 Here
                 comes
                 my
                 Cap●ain
                 again
                 ,
                 and
                 his
                 fine
                 N●●ce
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 th●re's
                 my
                 Merchant
                 ,
                 view
                 him
                 w●ll
                 ;
                 fil●
                 wine
                 here
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ent●r
                 Hemskirk
                 Bertha
                 ,
                 and
                 Florez
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 must
                 not
                 only
                 know
                 me
                 for
                 your
                 Unc●e
                 ,
              
               
                 N●w
                 ,
                 but
                 obey
                 me
                 ▪
                 you
                 go
                 cast
                 your self
              
               
                 Away
                 upon
                 a
                 dunghil
                 here
                 ?
                 a
                 Merchant
                 ?
              
               
                 A
                 petty
                 fellow
                 ?
                 one
                 that
                 makes
                 his
                 trade
              
               
                 With
                 Oaths
                 and
                 perjuries
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo
                 
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 that
                 you
                 say
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
               
                 If
                 it
                 be
                 me
                 you
                 speak
                 of
                 ,
                 as
                 your
                 eye
              
               
                 Seems
                 to
                 direct
                 ,
                 I
                 wish
                 you
                 would
                 speak
                 to
                 me
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I
                 do
                 say
                 she
                 is
                 no
                 merchandize
                 ;
              
               
                 Will
                 that
                 suffice
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Me●chandise
                 ;
                 good
                 Sir
                 !
              
               
                 Though
                 ye
                 be
                 Kinsman
                 to
                 her
                 ,
                 take
                 no
                 leave
                 thence
              
               
                 To
                 use
                 me
                 with
                 contempt
                 :
                 I
                 ever
                 thought
              
               
                 Your
                 Niece
                 above
                 all
                 price
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem
                 
              
               
                 And
                 do
                 so
                 still
                 ▪
                 Sir
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 assure
                 you
                 her
                 ra●e's
                 at
                 more
                 then
                 you
                 are
                 worth
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Y●u
                 do
                 not
                 know
                 what
                 a
                 Gentleman
                 's
                 worth
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 can
                 you
                 value
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 said
                 Merchant
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 N●y
                 ,
              
               
                 L●t
                 him
                 al●ne
                 ,
                 and
                 ply
                 your
                 ●●tter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 Gentleman
                 ?
              
               
                 What●
                 o'
                 the
                 wooll-pack
                 ?
                 or
                 the
                 sugar-chest
                 ?
              
               
                 Or
                 lists
                 of
                 Velvet
                 ?
                 which
                 is
                 't
                 ?
                 pound
                 or
                 yard
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 vent
                 your
                 C●ntry
                 by
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 Hem●kirk
                 ,
                 fie
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Com●
                 do
                 not
                 mind
                 'em
                 ;
                 drink
                 ,
                 he
                 is
                 〈◊〉
                 Woolfort
                 ,
              
               
                 Cap●ain
                 ,
                 I
                 advise
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Al●s
                 ,
                 my
                 pretty
                 man
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 thi●k'●
                 be
                 ang●y
                 ,
                 by
                 its
                 look
                 :
                 Come
                 hither
                 ,
              
               
                 Turn
                 this
                 wa●
                 a
                 little
                 :
                 If
                 it
                 were
                 the
                 blood
              
               
                 O
                 Char●cmain
                 ,
                 ●s't
                 m●y
                 (
                 for
                 oug●t
                 I
                 know
                 )
              
               
                 B●
                 some
                 go●d
                 Botchers
                 issue
                 he
                 ●in
                 Bruges
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 H●w
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 N●●
                 ,
                 I'●e
                 not
                 certain
                 of
                 that
                 ;
                 of
                 this
                 I
                 am
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 it
                 ●nce
                 buy
                 and
                 sell
                 ,
                 its
                 gentry
                 is
                 gon●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 H●
                 ,
                 ●a
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Y●u
                 are
                 angry
                 though
                 ye
                 laugh
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 N●
                 ,
                 now
                 't
                 is
                 pitty
              
               
                 O●
                 you●
                 poor
                 argu●ent
                 Do
                 not
                 you
                 the
                 Lords
              
               
                 O●
                 land
                 (
                 if
                 you
                 be
                 any
                 )
                 sell
                 the
                 grass
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 corn
                 ,
                 the
                 straw
                 ,
                 the
                 milk
                 ,
                 the
                 cheese
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 butter
                 ;
              
               
                 Remember
                 butter
                 ;
                 do
                 not
                 leave
                 ou●
                 butter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 B●●fs
                 and
                 Muttons
                 that
                 your
                 
                 grou●ds
                 are
                 stor'd
                 wi●h
                 ?
              
               
                 Swin●
                 ,
                 with
                 the
                 very
                 mast
                 ,
                 b●side
                 the
                 woods
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 for
                 these
                 sordid
                 uses
                 we
                 have
                 Tenan●s
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 else
                 ou●
                 B●yliffs
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 not
                 we
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 chap-men
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Factors
                 then
                 ,
                 to
                 answer
                 these
                 ?
                 your
                 errour
              
               
                 Fetch
                 ▪
                 c
                 from
                 the
                 Heraulds
                 
                   A
                   B
                   C
                
                 and
                 said
                 over
              
               
                 With
                 your
                 Court-faces
                 ,
                 once
                 an
                 hour
                 ,
                 shall
                 never
              
               
                 Make
                 me
                 mistake
                 my self
                 .
                 Do
                 not
                 your
                 Lawyers
              
               
                 Se●l
                 all
                 their
                 practice
                 ,
                 as
                 your
                 Priests
                 their
                 Prayers
                 ?
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 not
                 bought
                 and
                 sold
                 ?
                 The
                 company
              
               
                 That
                 you
                 had
                 last
                 ,
                 what
                 had
                 you
                 for
                 't
                 ,
                 y'faith
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 now
                 grow
                 sawcy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Sure
                 I
                 have
                 been
                 bred
              
               
                 Still
                 with
                 my
                 honest
                 liberty
                 ,
                 and
                 must
                 use
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Upon
                 your
                 equals
                 then
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 he
                 that
                 will.
              
               
                 Provoke
                 me
                 first
                 ,
                 makes
                 himself
                 my
                 equal
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 hear
                 ?
                 no
                 more
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir
                 ,
                 this
                 little
                 ,
                 I
                 pray
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 't
                 shall
                 be
                 aside
                 ,
                 then
                 after
                 as
                 you
                 please
                 .
              
               
                 You
                 appear
                 the
                 Uncle
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 ●o
                 her
                 I
                 love
              
               
                 More
                 then
                 mine
                 eyes
                 ;
                 and
                 I
                 have
                 heard
                 your
                 scorns
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 so
                 much
                 scoffing
                 ,
                 and
                 so
                 much
                 shame
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 each
                 st●ive
                 which
                 is
                 greater
                 :
                 but
                 be●ieve
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 suck'd
                 not
                 in
                 this
                 patience
                 with
                 my
                 milk
                 .
              
               
                 Do
                 not
                 presume
                 ,
                 because
                 you
                 see
                 me
                 young
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 cast
                 des●ights
                 on
                 my
                 profession
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 the
                 civility
                 and
                 tameness
                 of
                 it
                 .
              
               
                 A
                 good
                 man
                 bears
                 a
                 contumely
                 worse
              
               
                 Than
                 he
                 would
                 do
                 an
                 injury
                 .
                 Proceed
                 not
              
               
                 To
                 my
                 ●ff●nce
                 :
                 wrong
                 is
                 not
                 still
                 succesful
                 ,
              
               
                 Indeed
                 it
                 is
                 not
                 :
                 I
                 would
                 approach
                 your
                 Kinswoman
              
               
                 With
                 all
                 respect
                 done
                 to
                 your self
                 and
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 ●ay
                 companion
                 ;
                 handling
                 her
                 ?
                 take
                 that
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 I
                 do
                 love
                 no
                 blows
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 there
                 's
                 exchange
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Mar.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 murther
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 He●p
                 ,
                 my
                 Goswin
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Mar.
                 
              
               
                 Man.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Let
                 'em
                 alone
                 ;
                 my
                 life
                 for
                 one
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 come
              
               
                 〈◊〉
                 you
                 have
                 will.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 
              
               
                 None
                 to
                 offend
                 you
                 ;
                 I
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 that
                 had
                 thank
                 himself
                 :
                 not
                 hand
                 her
                 ?
                 yes
                 Sir.
              
               
                 And
                 clasp
                 her
                 ,
                 and
                 embrace
                 her
                 ;
                 and
                 (
                 would
                 she
              
               
                 Now
                 go
                 with
                 me
                 )
                 bear
                 her
                 through
                 all
                 her
                 race
                 ,
              
               
                 Her
                 Father
                 ,
                 Brethren
                 ,
                 and
                 her
                 Uncles
                 ,
                 arm'd
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 their
                 Nephewes
                 ,
                 though
                 they
                 stood
                 a
                 wood
              
               
                 Of
                 Pikes
                 ,
                 and
                 wall
                 of
                 Cannon
                 :
                 Kiss
                 me
                 Gertrude
                 ;
              
               
                 Quake
                 no●
                 ,
                 but
                 kiss
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Kiss
                 him
                 ,
                 girl
                 ,
                 I
                 bid
                 you
                 :
              
               
                 My
                 Merchant
                 royal
                 ,
                 fear
                 no
                 Uncles
                 :
                 hang
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 Hang
                 up
                 all
                 Uncles
                 :
                 Are
                 we
                 not
                 in
                 Bruges
                 ?
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 Rose
                 here
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 In
                 this
                 cirle
                 ,
                 Love
                 ,
              
               
                 Thou
                 art
                 as
                 safe
                 as
                 in
                 a
                 Tower
                 of
                 brass
                 ;
              
               
                 Let
                 such
                 as
                 do
                 wrong
                 ,
                 fear
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 that
                 's
                 good
                 ,
              
               
                 Let
                 
                 Woolfort
                 ●ook
                 to
                 that
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 here
                 she
                 sta●ds
                 ,
              
               
                 Your
                 Niece
                 ,
                 and
                 my
                 Beloved
                 .
                 One
                 of
                 these
                 titles
              
               
                 She
                 must
                 apply
                 to
                 ;
                 if
                 unto
                 the
                 last
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 all
                 the
                 anger
                 can
                 be
                 sent
                 unto
                 her
              
               
                 In
                 frown
                 ,
                 or
                 voyce
                 ,
                 or
                 other
                 art
                 ,
                 shall
                 force
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 Had
                 Hercules
                 a
                 hand
                 in
                 't
                 :
                 Come
                 ,
                 my
                 Joy
                 ,
              
               
                 Say
                 thou
                 art
                 mine
                 aloud
                 ,
                 Love
                 ,
                 and
                 profess
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 ;
                 and
                 I
                 drink
                 to
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 F●●
                 .
              
               
                 Prethe●
                 say
                 so
                 ,
                 Love.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 would
                 take
                 away
                 the
                 honour
                 from
                 my
                 blushes
                 :
              
               
                 Do
                 not
                 play
                 the
                 Tyrant
                 ,
                 sweet
                 ;
                 they
                 speak
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thank
                 you
                 Niece
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 thank
                 〈◊〉
                 for
                 your
                 life
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 fetch
                 your
                 sword
                 within
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 insult
                 too
                 much
              
               
                 With
                 your
                 good
                 fortune
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
                   
                     E●it
                     Florez
                  
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 brave
                 clear
                 spirit
                 :
              
               
                 Hemskirk
                 you
                 were
                 to
                 blame
                 ;
                 a
                 civil
                 habit
              
               
                 Oft
                 covers
                 a
                 good
                 man
                 ;
                 and
                 you
                 may
                 meet
              
               
                 In
                 person
                 of
                 a
                 Merchant
                 ,
                 with
                 a
                 soul
              
               
                 As
                 resolute
                 ,
                 and
                 free
                 ,
                 and
                 always
                 worthy
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 else
                 in
                 any
                 file
                 of
                 mankind
                 :
                 pray
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 meant
                 you
                 so
                 to
                 flight
                 him
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 done
                 now
                 ,
              
               
                 Ask
                 no
                 more
                 of
                 it
                 ,
                 I
                 must
                 suffer
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 This
              
               
               
                 Is
                 still
                 the
                 punishment
                 of
                 rashness
                 ,
                 sorrow
                 ;
              
               
                 Well
                 ,
                 I
                 must
                 to
                 the
                 woods
                 ,
                 for
                 nothing
                 here
              
               
                 Will
                 be
                 got
                 out
                 ;
                 there
                 I
                 may
                 chance
                 to
                 learn
              
               
                 Somewhat
                 to
                 help
                 my
                 enquiries
                 further
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Ha
                 ?
              
               
                 A
                 looking-glass
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 now
                 ,
                 brave
                 Burgomaster
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 love
                 no
                 Woolforts
                 ,
                 and
                 my
                 name
                 's
                 Van-dunck
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Van-drunk
                 it
                 's
                 rather
                 :
                 Come
                 ,
                 go
                 sleep
                 within
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Earl
                 Florez
                 is
                 right
                 heir
                 ,
                 and
                 this
                 same
                 Woolfort
                 ,
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 Rose
                 I
                 speak
                 it
                 ,
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Very
                 hardly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Usurps
                 :
                 and
                 a
                 rank
                 Traytor
                 as
                 ever
                 breath'd
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 that
                 do
                 uphold
                 him
                 .
                 Let
                 me
                 go
                 ,
              
               
                 No
                 man
                 shall
                 hold
                 me
                 ,
                 that
                 upholds
                 him
                 ;
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 uphold
                 him
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 hold
                 me
                 up
                 .
                 
                   Exeunt
                   .
                
              
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               and
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I
                 presume
                 you
                 have
                 a
                 sword
                 of
                 your
                 own
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 can
                 so
                 handle
                 anothers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Faith
                 you
                 may
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 ye
                 have
                 made
                 me
                 have
                 so
                 much
                 better
                 thoughts
                 of
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 I
                 am
                 bound
                 to
                 call
                 you
                 forth
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 what
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 the
                 repairing
                 of
                 mine
                 honour
                 and
                 hurt
                 here
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Express
                 your
                 way
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 fight
                 ,
                 and
                 speedily
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 have
                 your
                 will
                 :
                 Require
                 you
                 any
                 more
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 you
                 be
                 secret
                 ,
                 and
                 come
                 single
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Flo
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 are
                 the
                 Gentleman
                 you
                 would
                 be
                 thought
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Without
                 the
                 Conjuration
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 'le
                 bring
              
               
                 Only
                 my
                 sword
                 ,
                 which
                 I
                 will
                 fit
                 to
                 yours
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 take
                 his
                 length
                 within
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Your
                 place
                 now
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 the
                 sand-hills
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 nearer
                 to
                 the
                 woods
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 thought
                 so
                 ,
                 were
                 fitter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 then
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Good.
              
               
                 Your
                 time
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 'Twixt
                 seven
                 and
                 eight
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 'l
                 give
                 me
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 Cause
                 to
                 report
                 you
                 worthy
                 of
                 my
                 Niece
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 come
                 like
                 your
                 promise
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 do
                 not
                 ,
              
               
                 Let
                 no
                 man
                 think
                 to
                 call
                 me
                 unworthy
                 first
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 do'●
                 my self
                 ,
                 and
                 justly
                 wish
                 to
                 want
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             Actus
             Tertius
             ,
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Prima
               .
            
             
               Enter
               three
               or
               four
               Boors
               .
            
             
               
                 1
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 COme
                 ,
                 English
                 Beer
                 hostess
                 ,
                 English
                 Beer
                 by
                 th'
                 belly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Start
                 Beer
                 boy
                 ,
                 stout
                 and
                 strong
                 B●er
                 ▪
                 so
                 ,
                 sit
                 down
                 lads
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 drink
                 me
                 upsey
                 -
                 Du●ch
                 ;
              
               
                 Frolick
                 ,
                 and
                 fear
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hig.
               like
               a
               Sow-gelder
               ,
               singing
               .
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 work
                 for
                 the
                 Sow-gelder
                 ,
                 boa
                 ?
              
               
                 My
                 horn
                 goes
                 too
                 high
                 ,
                 too
                 low
                 ,
                 too
                 high
                 ,
                 too
                 low
                 .
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 Pigs
                 ,
                 Calves
                 ,
                 or
                 Colts
                 ,
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 lambs
                 in
                 your
                 holts
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 cut
                 for
                 the
                 stone
                 ?
              
               
                 Here
                 comes
                 a
                 cunning
                 one
                 .
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 branches
                 to
                 spade
                 ;
              
               
                 Or
                 e're
                 a
                 fair
                 maid
              
               
                 That
                 would
                 he
                 a
                 Nun
                 ,
              
               
                 Come
                 kiss
                 me
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 done
                 .
              
               
                 Hark
                 how
                 my
                 merry
                 horn
                 doth
                 blow
                 ,
              
               
                 Too
                 high
                 ,
                 too
                 low
                 ,
                 too
                 high
                 ,
                 too
                 low
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 excellent
                 !
                 two
                 pence
                 a
                 piece
                 boys
                 ,
                 two
                 pence
                 a
                 piece
                 .
              
               
                 Give
                 the
                 boys
                 some
                 drink
                 there
                 .
                 Piper
                 wet
                 your
                 whistle
                 .
              
               
                 Can'st
                 tell
                 me
                 a
                 way
                 now
                 ,
                 how
                 to
                 cut
                 off
                 my
                 wives
                 Concvpiscence
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 sing
                 ye
                 a
                 Song
                 for
                 't
                 .
              
            
             
               
               
                 The
                 SONG
                 .
              
               
                 TAke
                 her
                 ,
                 and
                 hug
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 turn
                 her
                 and
                 tug
                 her
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 turn
                 her
                 again
                 boy
                 ,
                 again
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 if
                 she
                 mumble
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 if
                 h●r
                 taile
                 tumble
                 ,
              
               
                 Kisse
                 her
                 a●ain
                 boy
                 ▪
                 amain
                 .
              
               
                 Do
                 thy
                 endeavour
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 take
                 off
                 her
                 feaver
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 her
                 disease
                 no
                 longor
                 will
                 raign
                 .
              
               
                 If
                 nothing
                 will
                 serve
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 thus
                 to
                 preserve
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 Swinge
                 her
                 amain
                 ●oy
                 ,
                 amain
                 .
              
               
                 Give
                 her
                 cold
                 jelly
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 up
                 her
                 belly
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 once
                 a
                 day
                 swinge
                 her
                 again
                 .
              
               
                 If
                 she
                 stand
                 all
                 these
                 pains
              
               
                 Then
                 knock
                 out
                 her
                 brains
                 ,
              
               
                 Her
                 disease
                 no
                 longer
                 will
                 reign
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 Mo●e
                 excellent
                 ,
                 more
                 excellent
                 ,
                 sweet
                 Sow-gelder
                 ,
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 Po.
                 
              
               
                 Three-pence
                 a
                 piece
                 ,
                 three
                 pence
                 a
                 piece
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 you
                 hear
                 a
                 Song
                 how
                 the
                 Divell
                 was
                 gelded
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 I
                 ,
                 let
                 's
                 hear
                 the
                 Divell
                 roar
                 ,
                 Sow-gelder
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 Groats
                 a
                 piece
                 ,
                 groats
                 a
                 piece
                 ,
                 groats
                 a
                 piece
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Prig.
               and
               Ferret
               .
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 ye
                 see
                 any
                 feats
                 of
                 act●vity
                 ,
              
               
                 Some
                 ●eight
                 of
                 hand
                 ,
                 leigerdemain
                 ?
                 hey
                 pass
                 ,
              
               
                 Presto
                 ,
                 be
                 gone
                 there
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 Sit
                 down
                 Jugler
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 S●rra●
                 ,
                 play
                 you
                 your
                 art
                 w●ll●s
                 draw
                 near
                 piper
                 :
              
               
                 Look
                 you
                 my
                 honest
                 friends
                 ,
                 you
                 s●e
                 my
                 hand
                 ;
              
               
                 Plain
                 dealing
                 is
                 no
                 Divell
                 :
                 lend
                 me
                 some
                 money
                 ;
              
               
                 Twelve-pence
                 a
                 piece
                 will
                 serve
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 2.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Ther●
                 ,
                 there
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thank
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Thank
                 ye
                 heartily
                 :
                 when
                 shall
                 I
                 pay
                 ye
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Ha
                 ,
                 ha
                 ,
                 ha
                 ,
                 by
                 '
                 th
                 mas●e
                 this
                 was
                 a
                 fine
                 trick
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig
                 
              
               
                 A
                 merry
                 sl●ight
                 toy●t
                 but
                 now
                 I
                 'le
                 shew
                 your
                 worships
              
               
                 A
                 trick
                 indeed
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig
                 
              
               
                 M●●k
                 him
                 well
                 now
                 my
                 Masters
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 are
                 three
                 balls
                 ,
              
               
                 These
                 balls
                 shall
                 be
                 three
                 bullets
                 ,
              
               
                 One
                 ,
                 two
                 ,
                 and
                 three
                 t
                 
                   ascentibus
                   ,
                   malentibus
                
                 ,
              
               
                 Presto
                 ,
                 be
                 gone
                 :
                 they
                 are
                 van●sh'd
                 ;
                 fair
                 play
                 Gentlemen
                 ,
              
               
                 Now
                 these
                 three
                 ,
                 like
                 three
                 bullets
                 ,
                 from
                 your
                 three
                 noses
              
               
                 Will
                 I
                 pluck
                 pr●sently
                 :
                 feare
                 not
                 ,
                 no
                 harme
                 boyes
                 ,
              
               
                 
                   Titere
                   ,
                   tu
                   patule
                
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Oh
                 ,
                 oh
                 ,
                 oh
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Pri●
                 .
              
               
                 Recubans
                 sub
                 fermine
                 fagi.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 B
              
               
                 Ye
                 pull
                 too
                 hard
                 ;
                 ye
                 pull
                 too
                 hard
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig
                 
              
               
                 Stand
                 fair
                 then
                 :
              
               
                 Silvestram
                 trim
                 tram
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 hold
                 ,
                 hold
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 al●st
                 bullets
                 three
                 ▪
                 with
                 a
                 whim-wham
                 :
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 their
                 moneys
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 yes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Oh
                 rare
                 Jugler
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 C.
                 
              
               
                 Oh
                 admirable
                 Jugler
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 O●e
                 trick
                 more
                 yet
                 ;
              
               
                 Hey
                 ,
                 come
                 aloft
                 :
                 
                   sa
                   ,
                   sa
                   ,
                   flim
                   ,
                   flum
                   ,
                   taradumbis
                
                 ?
              
               
                 East
                 ,
                 west
                 ,
                 north
                 ,
                 south
                 ,
                 now
                 flye
                 like
                 Ia●k
                 with
                 a
                 oumbis
                 .
              
               
                 Now
                 all
                 your
                 money
                 's
                 gone
                 :
                 pray
                 search
                 your
                 pockets
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Humb.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Devill
                 a
                 penny'●
                 here
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 T●is
                 was
                 a
                 rare
                 trick
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 't
                 would
                 be
                 a
                 farre
                 rarer
                 t●
                 restore
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 do
                 ye
                 that
                 too
                 :
                 look
                 upon
                 me
                 ●arnestly
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 move
                 not
                 any
                 wayes
                 your
                 eyes
                 from
                 this
                 place
                 ,
              
               
                 This
                 button
                 here
                 :
                 pow
                 ,
                 whir
                 ,
                 whiss
                 ,
                 shake
                 your
                 pockets
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 B●'th
                 m●sse
                 '
                 ●is
                 here
                 again
                 boye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 R●st
                 ye
                 ●●rry
                 ;
              
               
                 My
                 fi●st
                 tr●ck
                 has
                 paid
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 take
                 i●
                 ,
                 take
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 take
                 some
                 drink
                 ,
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 a
                 drop
                 now
                 I
                 thank
                 you
                 ;
              
               
                 Away
                 ,
                 we
                 are
                 discove●'d
                 else
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               .
            
             
               
               Enter
               Gerrard
               
                 like
                 a
                 blind
                 Aqua-vitae
                 man
                 ,
                 and
                 a
                 boy
                 singing
                 the
                 SONG
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 BRing
                 out
                 your
                 Cony-skins
                 ,
                 fair
                 maids
                 to
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 hold
                 'em
                 fair
                 ,
                 that
                 I
                 may
                 see
                 ;
              
               
                 Grey
                 ▪
                 black
                 ,
                 and
                 blew
                 :
                 for
                 your
                 smaller
                 skins
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 give
                 ye
                 loo●ing-glasses
                 ,
                 pins
                 .
              
               
                 And
                 for
                 your
                 whole
                 Coney
                 ,
                 here
                 's
                 ready
                 ready
                 money
                 .
              
               
                 Come
                 gent●e
                 Jone
                 ,
                 do
                 thou
                 begin
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 thy
                 black
                 ,
                 black
                 ,
                 black
                 Cony
                 skin
                 .
              
               
                 And
                 Mary
                 then
                 ,
                 and
                 Jane
                 will
                 follow
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 their
                 silver-hair'd
                 skins
                 ,
                 and
                 their
                 yellow
              
               
                 The
                 white
                 Cony-skin
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 not
                 lay
                 by
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 though
                 it
                 be
                 faint
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 faire
                 to
                 the
                 eye
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 grey
                 it
                 is
                 warm
                 but
                 yet
                 for
                 my
                 money
                 ,
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 the
                 bonny
                 ,
                 bonny
                 black
                 Coney
                 .
              
               
                 Come
                 away
                 fair
                 maids
                 ,
                 put
                 your
                 ware
                 away
                 .
              
               
                 Cony-skins
                 ,
                 Cony-skins
                 ,
                 have
                 ye
                 any
                 Cony-skins
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 fine
                 brace-lets
                 ,
                 and
                 sine
                 silver
                 pins
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Buy
                 any
                 brand-wine
                 ,
                 buy
                 any
                 brand-wine
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boy
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 Cony-skins
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 fine
                 Canary-bird
                 ,
                 there
                 's
                 a
                 Cake
                 for
                 thy
                 worship
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 C●me
                 ,
                 fill
                 ,
                 fill
                 ,
                 fill
                 suddenly
                 :
                 le●'s
                 see
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 's
                 ●his
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 penny
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Fill
                 till
                 't
                 be
                 six-pence
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 there
                 's
                 my
                 pig
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boy
                 .
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 a
                 counter
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 counter
                 ?
                 stay
                 ye
                 ,
                 what
                 are
                 these
                 then
                 ?
              
               
                 O
                 execrable
                 Jugle●
                 !
                 O
                 damn'd
                 Jugler
                 !
              
               
                 Look
                 in
                 your
                 hose
                 ,
                 hoa
                 :
                 this
                 comes
                 of
                 looking
                 forward
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Divell
                 a
                 Dunkirk
                 !
                 what
                 a
                 rogue
                 's
                 this
                 Jugler
                 ,
              
               
                 This
                 hey
                 pass
                 ,
                 repass
                 ,
                 h
                 'as
                 repast
                 us
                 sweetly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 ye
                 call
                 these
                 tricks
                 :
              
            
             
               Enter
               Higgen
               .
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 ends
                 of
                 gold
                 or
                 silver
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 fellow
                 comes
                 to
                 mock
                 us
                 ;
                 gold
                 or
                 silver
                 ?
                 cry
                 copper
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 my
                 good
                 friend
                 .
              
               
                 We
                 have
                 e'ne
                 an
                 end
                 of
                 all
                 we
                 have
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 'Ts
                 well
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 have
                 the
                 less
                 to
                 care
                 for
                 :
                 gold
                 and
                 silver
                 ,
              
            
             
               Exit
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Prig.
               
            
             
               
                 Pr●
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 any
                 old
                 cloakes
                 to
                 sell
                 ,
                 have
                 ye
                 any
                 old
                 cloaks
                 to
                 sell.
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Cloakes
                 ?
                 look
                 about
                 ye
                 boyes
                 :
                 mine
                 's
                 gone
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 B
              
               
                 A
                 —
                 juggle
                 '
                 em
                 ?
              
               
                 —
                 o'
                 their
                 Presto●s
                 :
                 mine
                 's
                 gone
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 mine
                 yet
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 ,
                 come
                 ,
                 let
                 's
                 drink
                 then
                 :
                 more
                 brand-wine
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boy
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 B
              
               
                 If
                 e're
                 I
                 catch
                 your
                 Sow-gelder
                 ,
                 by
                 this
                 hand
                 I
                 'le
                 strip
                 him
                 ;
              
               
                 Were
                 ever
                 fools
                 so
                 ferkt
                 ?
                 we
                 have
                 two
                 clokes
                 yet
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 our
                 caps
                 ;
                 the
                 Divell
                 take
                 the
                 flincher
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 Yaw
                 ,
                 yaw
                 ,
                 yaw
                 ,
                 yaw
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 do'n
                 my
                 honest
                 fellows
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 merry
                 here
                 I
                 see
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 '
                 Ti●
                 all
                 we
                 have
                 l●ft
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 hast
                 thou
                 !
                 Aqua-vitae
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boy
                 ,
              
               
                 Yes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Fill
                 out
                 then
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 give
                 these
                 honest
                 fellows
                 round
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 b.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 thank
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 I
                 speak
                 a
                 word
                 in
                 private
                 to
                 ye
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 b.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 a
                 business
                 for
                 you
                 ,
                 honest
                 friends
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 dare
                 l●nd
                 your
                 help
                 ,
                 shall
                 get
                 you
                 crowns
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 H●
                 ?
              
               
                 Lead
                 me
                 a
                 little
                 nearer
                 ,
                 boy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 B.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 't
                 Sir
                 ?
              
               
                 If
                 it
                 be
                 any
                 thing
                 to
                 pu●chase
                 money
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 our
                 want
                 ,
                 command
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boors
                 .
              
               
                 All
                 ,
                 all
                 ,
                 all
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 know
                 ●●e
                 young
                 sp●uce
                 Merchant
                 in
                 Bruges
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 B
              
               
                 Who
                 ,
                 Master
                 Goswin
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 :
                 he
                 owes
                 me
                 money
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 here
                 in
                 town
                 there
                 is
                 no
                 stirring
                 of
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Say
                 ye
                 so
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 day
                 upon
                 a
                 sure
                 appointment
                 ,
              
               
               
                 He
                 meets
                 me
                 mile
                 hence
                 ,
                 by
                 the
                 Chase
                 side
                 ,
              
               
                 Under
                 the
                 row
                 of
                 Okes
                 ,
                 do
                 you
                 know
                 it
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 All
                 b.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Give
                 'em
                 more
                 drink
                 :
                 there
                 if
                 you
                 dare
                 but
                 venture
              
               
                 When
                 I
                 shall
                 give
                 the
                 word
                 to
                 seize
                 upon
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 twenty
                 pound
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 Beware
                 the
                 Jugler
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 he
                 resist
                 ,
                 down
                 with
                 him
                 ;
                 have
                 no
                 mercy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 warrant
                 you
                 :
                 wee
                 'l
                 hamper
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 discharge
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 a
                 warrrant
                 here
                 about
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3.
                 
                 Bo.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 our
                 warrant
                 ,
              
               
                 This
                 carries
                 fire
                 i'
                 the
                 taile
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Away
                 with
                 me
                 then
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 time
                 drawes
                 on
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 remove
                 so
                 insolent
                 a
                 Suitor
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 if
                 he
                 be
                 so
                 rich
                 ,
                 make
                 him
                 pay
                 ransome
              
               
                 Ere
                 he
                 see
                 Bruges
                 towres
                 again
                 :
                 thus
                 wise
                 men
              
               
                 Repaire
                 the
                 hurts
                 they
                 take
                 by
                 a
                 disgrace
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 piece
                 the
                 Lyons
                 skin
                 with
                 the
                 Foxes
                 case
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 glad
                 I
                 have
                 heard
                 this
                 sport
                 yet
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 for
                 thy
                 drink
                 ,
                 come
                 pay
                 the
                 house
                 within
                 boyes
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 loose
                 no
                 time
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Away
                 with
                 all
                 our
                 haste
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Secunda
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               .
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 NO
                 wind
                 blow
                 faire
                 yet
                 ?
                 no
                 return
                 of
                 moneys
                 ?
              
               
                 Letters
                 ?
                 nor
                 any
                 thing
                 ,
                 to
                 hold
                 my
                 hopes
                 up
                 ?
              
               
                 Why
                 then
                 't
                 is
                 destin'd
                 ,
                 that
                 I
                 fall
                 ,
                 fall
                 miserably
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 credit
                 I
                 was
                 built
                 on
                 ,
                 sinking
                 with
                 me
                 .
              
               
                 Thou
                 boysterous
                 North-wind
                 ,
                 blowing
                 my
                 mis●ortunes
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 ●rosting
                 all
                 my
                 hopes
                 to
                 cakes
                 of
                 coldness
                 ,
              
               
                 Yet
                 stay
                 thy
                 fury
                 :
                 give
                 the
                 gentle
                 South
              
               
                 Yet
                 leave
                 to
                 court
                 those
                 ●ai●es
                 that
                 bring
                 me
                 safety
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 you
                 auspicious
                 fires
                 ,
                 bright
                 twins
                 in
                 heaven
              
               
                 Daunce
                 on
                 the
                 shrowds
                 :
                 he
                 blowes
                 still
                 stubbornly
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 on
                 his
                 boysterous
                 rack
                 rides
                 my
                 sad
                 ruine
                 ;
              
               
                 There
                 is
                 no
                 help
                 ,
                 there
                 can
                 be
                 now
                 no
                 comfort
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 morrow
                 with
                 the
                 Sun-set
                 ,
                 sets
                 my
                 credit
                 .
              
               
                 Oh
                 misery
                 !
                 thou
                 curse
                 of
                 man
                 ,
                 thou
                 plague
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 the
                 midst
                 of
                 all
                 our
                 st●ength
                 thou
                 strik'st
                 us
                 ▪
              
               
                 My
                 vertuous
                 love
                 is
                 toss'd
                 too
                 ,
                 all
                 what
                 I
                 have
                 been
                 ,
              
               
                 No
                 more
                 hereafter
                 to
                 be
                 seen
                 then
                 shadow
                 ;
              
               
                 To
                 prison
                 now●
                 well
                 ,
                 yet
                 there
                 's
                 this
                 hope
                 left
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 may
                 sink
                 fairly
                 under
                 this
                 dayes
                 venture
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 so
                 to
                 morrow's
                 cross'●
                 ,
                 and
                 all
                 those
                 curses
                 :
              
               
                 Yet
                 manly
                 I
                 'le
                 invite
                 my
                 fate
                 ,
                 base
                 fortune
              
               
                 Shall
                 never
                 say
                 ,
                 she
                 has
                 cut
                 my
                 throat
                 in
                 fear
                 .
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 the
                 p●ace
                 his
                 challenge
                 call'd
                 me
                 to
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 was
                 a
                 happy
                 one
                 at
                 this
                 time
                 for
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 let
                 me
                 fall
                 before
                 my
                 foe
                 i'
                 the
                 field
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 not
                 at
                 barr
                 ,
                 before
                 my
                 creditors
                 ;
              
               
                 Aa's
                 kept
                 his
                 word
                 :
                 now
                 Sir
                 ,
                 your
                 swords
                 tongue
                 only
              
               
                 Loud
                 as
                 you
                 dare
                 ,
                 all
                 other
                 language
                 ,
                 —
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 not
                 be
                 long
                 troubled
                 :
                 draw
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 done
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 have
                 at
                 ye
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Now
              
            
             
               Enter
               Boores.
               
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Betraid
                 to
                 Vi●lains
                 ?
              
               
                 Slaves
                 ,
                 ye
                 shall
                 buy
                 me
                 bravely
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 thou
                 base
                 coward
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               and
               beggars
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 upon
                 'em
                 bravely
                 ,
              
               
                 Conjure
                 'em
                 soundly
                 boyes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 hold
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Lay
                 on
                 still
                 ,
              
               
                 Down
                 with
                 that
                 Gentleman
                 rogue
                 ,
                 swinge
                 him
                 to
                 sirrup
                 :
              
               
                 Retire
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 take
                 breath
                 :
                 follow
                 &
                 take
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Take
                 all
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 lawfull
                 prize
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 yield
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Down
                 with
                 'em
              
               
                 Into
                 the
                 wood
                 ,
                 and
                 rifle
                 'em
                 ,
                 tew
                 'em
                 ,
                 swinge
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 Knock
                 me
                 their
                 brains
                 into
                 their
                 breeches
                 .
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 hold
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 th●se
                 men
                 are
                 I
                 know
                 not
                 ,
                 nor
                 for
                 what
                 cause
              
               
                 They
                 should
                 thus
                 thrust
                 themselves
                 into
                 my
                 danger
                 ,
              
               
                 Can
                 I
                 imagin
                 .
                 But
                 s●re
                 heavens
                 hand
                 was
                 in
                 't
                 ;
              
               
               
                 Nor
                 why
                 this
                 coward
                 knave
                 should
                 deale
                 so
                 basely
              
               
                 To
                 eat
                 me
                 up
                 with
                 slaves
                 :
                 but
                 heaven
                 I
                 thank
                 thee
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 hope
                 thou
                 hast
                 reserv'd
                 me
                 to
                 an
                 end
              
               
                 Fit
                 for
                 thy
                 creature
                 ,
                 and
                 worthy
                 of
                 thy
                 honour
                 :
              
               
                 Would
                 all
                 my
                 other
                 dangers
                 here
                 had
                 suffered
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 what
                 a
                 joyfull
                 heart
                 should
                 I
                 go
                 home
                 then
                 ?
              
               
                 Where
                 now
                 heaven
                 knowes
                 ,
                 like
                 him
                 that
                 waits
                 his
                 sentence
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 hears
                 his
                 passing-bell
                 ;
                 but
                 there
                 's
                 my
                 hope
                 still
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Blessing
                 upon
                 you
                 Master
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Thank
                 ye
                 ;
                 leave
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 by
                 my
                 troth
                 I
                 have
                 nothing
                 now
                 to
                 give
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ge.
                 
              
               
                 Indeed
                 ,
                 I
                 do
                 not
                 ask
                 ,
                 si●
                 ,
                 only
                 it
                 grieves
                 me
              
               
                 To
                 see
                 you
                 look
                 so
                 sad
                 ;
                 now
                 goodness
                 keep
                 ye
              
               
                 From
                 troubles
                 in
                 your
                 mind
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 were
                 troubled
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 could
                 thy
                 comfort
                 do
                 ?
                 prethee
                 Clause
                 ,
                 leave
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 master
                 be
                 not
                 angry
                 ;
                 for
                 what
                 I
                 say
              
               
                 Is
                 out
                 of
                 true
                 love
                 to
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 thou
                 lov'st
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 Mr.
                 blame
                 that
                 love
                 then
                 ,
                 if
                 I
                 prove
                 so
                 sawcy
                 .
              
               
                 To
                 ask
                 ye
                 why
                 ye
                 are
                 sad
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Most
                 true
                 I
                 am
                 so
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 such
                 a
                 sadnesse
                 I
                 have
                 got
                 will
                 sink
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 shield
                 it
                 ,
                 sir
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Faith
                 ,
                 thou
                 must
                 lose
                 thy
                 master
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 had
                 rather
                 lose
                 my
                 neck
                 sir
                 :
                 would
                 I
                 knew
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 would
                 the
                 knowledge
                 do
                 thee
                 good
                 ,
                 so
                 miserable
              
               
                 Thou
                 canst
                 not
                 help
                 thy self
                 ?
                 when
                 all
                 my
                 ways
              
               
                 Nor
                 all
                 the
                 friends
                 I
                 have
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 do
                 not
                 know
                 ,
                 sir
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 I
                 can
                 d●●
                 cures
                 sometimes
                 ,
                 for
                 mens
                 cares
              
               
                 Flow
                 ,
                 where
                 they
                 least
                 expect
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 thou
                 wouldst
                 do
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 farewell
                 Clause
                 &
                 pray
                 for
                 thy
                 poor
                 ●n
                 a●ter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 not
                 leave
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 dare
                 not
                 leave
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 till
                 ye
                 beat
                 me
                 dead
                 ,
                 I
                 must
                 not
                 leave
                 ye
                 .
              
               
                 By
                 what
                 ye
                 hold
                 most
                 precious
                 ,
                 by
                 heavens
                 goodness
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 your
                 fair
                 youth
                 may
                 prosper
                 ,
                 good
                 Sir
                 tell
                 me
                 :
              
               
                 My
                 mind
                 believes
                 yet
                 something
                 's
                 in
                 my
                 power
              
               
                 May
                 ease
                 you
                 of
                 this
                 trouble
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 tell
                 thee
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 a
                 hundred
                 thousand
                 crowns
                 upon
                 my
                 credit
                 ,
              
               
                 T●ken
                 up
                 of
                 Merchants
                 to
                 supply
                 my
                 traffiques
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 winds
                 and
                 weather
                 envying
                 of
                 my
                 fortune
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 no
                 return
                 to
                 help
                 me
                 off
                 ,
                 yet
                 sh●wing
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 morrow
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ,
                 to
                 morrow
                 ,
                 which
                 must
                 come
              
               
                 In
                 spron
                 ,
                 thou
                 shalt
                 find
                 me
                 poor
                 ,
                 and
                 broken
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 cannot
                 b●ame
                 your
                 grief
                 sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 what
                 sayst
                 thou
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ge.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 say
                 you
                 should
                 not
                 shrink
                 ;
                 for
                 he
                 that
                 gave
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Can
                 give
                 you
                 more
                 ;
                 his
                 power
                 can
                 bring
                 ye
                 off
                 ,
                 sir
                 ;
              
               
                 When
                 friends
                 &
                 all
                 forsake
                 you
                 ,
                 yet
                 he
                 sees
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 's
                 all
                 my
                 hope
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger
                 
              
               
                 Hope
                 still
                 sir
                 ;
                 are
                 you
                 ty'd
              
               
                 Within
                 the
                 compasse
                 of
                 a
                 day
                 ,
                 good
                 master
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 pay
                 this
                 mass
                 of
                 money
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Ev'n
                 to
                 morrow
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 why
                 do
                 I
                 stand
                 mocking
                 of
                 my
                 misery
                 ?
              
               
                 Is
                 't
                 not
                 enough
                 the
                 floods
                 ,
                 &
                 friends
                 forget
                 me
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 no
                 lesse
                 serve
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 if
                 it
                 would
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Your
                 patience
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 do
                 not
                 ask
                 to
                 mock
                 ye
                 :
                 't
                 is
                 a
                 great
                 sum
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 sum
                 for
                 mighty
                 men
                 to
                 start
                 and
                 stick
                 at
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 not
                 for
                 honest
                 :
                 have
                 ye
                 no
                 friends
                 left
                 ye
                 ;
              
               
                 None
                 that
                 have
                 felt
                 your
                 bounty
                 ,
                 worth
                 this
                 duty
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Duty
                 ?
                 thou
                 knowst
                 it
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 is
                 a
                 duty
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 as
                 a
                 duty
                 from
                 those
                 men
                 that
                 have
                 felt
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Should
                 be
                 return'd
                 again
                 :
                 I
                 have
                 gain'd
                 by
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 daily
                 almes
                 these
                 seven
                 yeares
                 you
                 have
                 showr'd
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Will
                 half
                 supply
                 your
                 want
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 dost
                 thou
                 fool
                 me
                 ?
              
               
                 Canst
                 thou
                 work
                 miracles
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 save
                 my
                 master
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 can
                 work
                 this
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 wilt
                 make
                 me
                 angry
                 with
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 doing
                 good
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 power
                 hast
                 thou
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Enquire
                 not
                 :
              
               
                 So
                 I
                 can
                 do
                 it
                 to
                 preserve
                 my
                 master
                 ;
              
               
               
                 Nay
                 if
                 it
                 be
                 three
                 parts
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 ●hat
                 I
                 had
                 it
                 !
              
               
                 But
                 good
                 Clause
                 talk
                 no
                 more
                 ,
                 I
                 feel
                 thy
                 charity
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 thou
                 hast
                 felt
                 mine
                 :
                 but
                 alas
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Distrust
                 not
                 .
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 that
                 that
                 quenches
                 ye
                 :
                 pull
                 up
                 your
                 spirit
                 ,
              
               
                 Your
                 good
                 ,
                 your
                 honest
                 ,
                 and
                 your
                 noble
                 spirit
                 ;
              
               
                 For
                 if
                 the
                 fortunes
                 of
                 ten
                 thousand
                 people
              
               
                 Can
                 save
                 ye
                 ,
                 rest
                 assur'd
                 ;
                 you
                 have
                 forgot
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 good
                 ye
                 did
                 ,
                 which
                 was
                 the
                 power
                 you
                 gave
                 me
                 ;
              
               
                 Ye
                 shall
                 now
                 know
                 the
                 King
                 of
                 Beggars
                 treasure
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 let
                 the
                 winds
                 blow
                 as
                 they
                 please
                 ,
                 the
                 seas
                 roar
                 ,
              
               
                 Yet
                 ,
                 here
                 to
                 morrow
                 ,
                 you
                 shall
                 find
                 your
                 harbour
                 ,
              
               
                 Here
                 faile
                 me
                 not
                 ,
                 for
                 if
                 I
                 live
                 I
                 'e
                 fit
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 fain
                 would
                 I
                 believe
                 thee
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 lie
                 master
                 ,
              
               
                 Believe
                 no
                 man
                 hereafter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 try
                 thee
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 he
                 knowes
                 ,
                 that
                 knowes
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Know
                 me
                 to
                 morrow
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 if
                 I
                 know
                 not
                 how
                 to
                 cure
                 ye
                 ,
                 kill
                 me
                 ;
              
               
                 So
                 pass
                 in
                 peace
                 ,
                 my
                 best
                 ,
                 my
                 worthiest
                 master
                 .
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Tertia
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               like
               a
               Huntsman
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Thus
                 have
                 I
                 stolne
                 away
                 disguis'd
                 from
                 Hemskirk
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 try
                 these
                 people
                 ,
                 for
                 my
                 heart
                 yet
                 tells
                 me
              
               
                 Some
                 of
                 these
                 Beggars
                 are
                 the
                 men
                 I
                 look
                 for
                 ;
              
               
                 Appearing
                 like
                 my self
                 ,
                 they
                 have
                 no
                 reason
              
               
                 (
                 Though
                 my
                 intent
                 is
                 fair
                 ,
                 my
                 main
                 end
                 honest
                 )
              
               
                 But
                 to
                 avoid
                 me
                 narrowly
                 ;
                 that
                 face
                 too
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 womans
                 face
                 ,
                 how
                 near
                 it
                 is
                 !
                 O
                 may
                 it
              
               
                 But
                 prove
                 the
                 same
                 ,
                 and
                 fortune
                 how
                 I
                 'le
                 bless
                 thee
                 !
              
               
                 Thus
                 ,
                 sure
                 they
                 cannot
                 know
                 me
                 ,
                 or
                 suspect
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 to
                 my
                 habit
                 I
                 but
                 change
                 my
                 nature
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 I
                 must
                 do
                 :
                 this
                 is
                 the
                 wood
                 they
                 live
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 place
                 fit
                 for
                 concealment
                 ,
                 where
                 ,
                 till
                 fortune
              
               
                 Crown
                 me
                 with
                 that
                 I
                 seek
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 live
                 amongst
                 '
                 em
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               Enter
               Higgen
               ,
               Prig
               ,
               Ferret
               ,
               Gynks
               ,
               and
               the
               rest
               of
               the
               Boores.
               
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 bring
                 'em
                 out
                 ▪
                 for
                 here
                 we
                 sit
                 in
                 justice
                 :
              
               
                 Give
                 to
                 each
                 one
                 a
                 cudgel
                 ,
                 a
                 good
                 cudgel
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 attend
                 your
                 sentence
                 ,
                 tha
                 ?
                 you
                 are
                 rogues
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 mischievous
                 base
                 rascals
                 (
                 there
                 's
                 the
                 point
                 now
                 )
              
               
                 I
                 take
                 it
                 ,
                 is
                 confess'd
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Deny
                 it
                 if
                 you
                 dare
                 ,
                 Knaves
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 are
                 Rogues
                 Sir
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 amplify
                 the
                 matter
                 ,
                 then
                 rogues
                 as
                 ye
                 are
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 lamb'd
                 ye
                 shall
                 be
                 t're
                 we
                 leave
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 to
                 the
                 open
                 handling
                 of
                 our
                 justice
                 ,
              
               
                 Why
                 did
                 ye
                 this
                 upon
                 the
                 proper
                 person
              
               
                 Of
                 our
                 good
                 Master
                 ?
                 were
                 you
                 drunk
                 when
                 you
                 did
                 it
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 indeed
                 were
                 we
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 be
                 beaten
                 sober
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Was
                 it
                 for
                 want
                 you
                 undertook
                 it
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 be
                 swing'd
                 abundantly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 yet
                 for
                 all
                 that
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 be
                 poor
                 rogues
                 still
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Has
                 not
                 the
                 Gentleman
              
               
                 Pray
                 mark
                 this
                 point
                 brother
                 Prig
                 ,
                 that
                 noble
                 Gentleman
                 ,
              
               
                 Reliev'd
                 ye
                 often
                 ,
                 found
                 ye
                 means
                 to
                 live
                 by
                 ,
              
               
                 By
                 employing
                 some
                 at
                 sea
                 ,
                 some
                 here
                 ,
                 some
                 there
                 ,
              
               
                 According
                 to
                 your
                 callings
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 most
                 true
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hig
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 not
                 the
                 man
                 an
                 honest
                 man
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 truly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 liberall
                 Gentleman
                 ?
                 and
                 as
                 ye
                 are
                 true
                 rascals
                 ,
              
               
                 Tell
                 me
                 but
                 this
                 ,
                 have
                 ye
                 not
                 been
                 drunk
                 ,
                 and
                 often
                 ,
              
               
                 At
                 his
                 charge
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 Often
                 ,
                 often
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 the
                 point
                 then
                 ,
              
               
                 They
                 have
                 cast
                 themselves
                 ,
                 brother
                 Prig.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 shrewd
                 point
                 brother
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Brother
                 ,
                 proceed
                 you
                 now
                 ,
                 the
                 cause
                 is
                 open
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 somewhat
                 weary
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Can
                 you
                 do
                 these
                 things
                 ?
              
               
                 You
                 most
                 abominable
                 stinking
                 Rascals
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 turnip-eating
                 Rogues
                 ●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boores.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 are
                 truly
                 sorry
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Knock
                 at
                 your
                 hard
                 hearts
                 Rogues
                 ,
                 and
                 presently
              
               
               
                 Give
                 us
                 a
                 sign
                 you
                 feel
                 compunction
                 ,
              
               
                 Every
                 man
                 up
                 with
                 's
                 cudgell
                 ,
                 and
                 on
                 his
                 neighbour
              
               
                 Bestow
                 such
                 almes
                 ,
                 till
                 we
                 shall
                 say
                 sufficient
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 there
                 your
                 sentence
                 lyes
                 ,
                 without
                 partiality
                 ,
              
               
                 Either
                 of
                 head
                 ,
                 or
                 hide
                 ,
                 Rogues
                 ,
                 without
                 sp●ring
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 we
                 shall
                 take
                 the
                 pains
                 to
                 beat
                 you
                 dead
                 else
                 :
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 know
                 your
                 doom
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 One
                 ,
                 two
                 ,
                 three
                 ,
                 about
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 fellow
                 in
                 the
                 blew
                 has
                 true
                 compunction
                 ,
              
               
                 He
                 beats
                 his
                 fellows
                 bravely
                 ,
                 oh
                 ,
                 well
                 struck
                 boyes
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               .
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Up
                 with
                 that
                 blew
                 breech
                 ,
                 now
                 playes
                 he
                 the
                 Divell
                 ,
              
               
                 So
                 get
                 ye
                 home
                 ,
                 drink
                 small
                 beer
                 ,
                 and
                 be
                 honest
                 .
              
               
                 Call
                 in
                 the
                 Gentleman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 ,
                 bring
                 him
                 presently
                 ,
              
               
                 His
                 cause
                 I
                 'le
                 hear
                 my self
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hemskirk
               .
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Prig.
                 With
                 all
                 due
                 reverence
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 do
                 resign
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 huffing
                 Sir
                 ,
                 what
                 's
                 your
                 name
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 's
                 that
                 to
                 you
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 shall
                 be
                 ere
                 we
                 part
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 name
                 is
                 Hemskirk
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 follow
                 the
                 Earl
                 ,
                 which
                 you
                 shall
                 feel
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 threatning
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 we
                 shall
                 cool
                 you
                 sir
                 ;
                 why
                 didst
                 thou
                 basely
              
               
                 Attempt
                 the
                 murther
                 of
                 the
                 Merchant
                 Goswin
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 power
                 hast
                 thou
                 to
                 ask
                 me
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 know
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 O
                 flea
                 thee
                 till
                 thy
                 pain
                 discover
                 i●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 did
                 me
                 wrong
                 base
                 wrong
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 cannot
                 save
                 y●
                 ,
              
               
                 Who
                 sent
                 ye
                 hi
                 her
                 ?
                 and
                 what
                 further
                 villanies
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 in
                 hand
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 wouldst
                 thou
                 know
                 ?
                 what
                 prefi●
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 I
                 had
                 any
                 private
                 way
                 ▪
                 could
                 rise
              
               
                 Out
                 of
                 my
                 knowledge
                 ,
                 to
                 do
                 thee
                 commodity
                 ?
              
               
                 Be
                 sorry
                 for
                 what
                 thou
                 hast
                 done
                 ,
                 and
                 make
                 amends
                 fool
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 talk
                 no
                 further
                 to
                 thee
                 ;
                 nor
                 these
                 rascals
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Tye
                 him
                 to
                 that
                 tree
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 told
                 you
                 whom
                 I
                 follow
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Devill
                 you
                 should
                 do
                 ,
                 by
                 your
                 villanies
                 ;
              
               
                 Now
                 he
                 that
                 has
                 the
                 best
                 way
                 ,
                 wring
                 it
                 from
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 undertake
                 it
                 ;
                 turn
                 him
                 to
                 the
                 Sun
                 boys
                 ,
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 a
                 fine
                 sharp
                 rush
                 ;
                 will
                 ye
                 confesse
                 yet
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Ye
                 have
                 robb'd
                 me
                 already
                 ,
                 now
                 you●
                 murther
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Murder
                 your
                 nose
                 a
                 little
                 :
                 does
                 your
                 head
                 purge
                 Sir
                 ?
              
               
                 To
                 it
                 again
                 ,
                 't
                 will
                 do
                 ye
                 good
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Oh!
              
               
                 I
                 cannot
                 tell
                 you
                 any
                 thing
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Proceed
                 then
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 maggots
                 in
                 your
                 nose
                 ,
                 I'●e
                 fetch
                 'em
                 out
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 my
                 head
                 breaks
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 my
                 head
                 breaks
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 best
                 thing
                 for
                 the
                 Rhume
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 falls
                 into
                 your
                 worships
                 eyes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 hold
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Speak
                 then
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 not
                 what
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 lyes
                 in
                 's
                 brain
                 yet
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 lumps
                 it
                 lies
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 fetch
                 it
                 out
                 the
                 finest
                 :
              
               
                 What
                 pretty
                 faces
                 the
                 foole
                 makes
                 ,
                 ?
                 heigh●
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
              
               
                 Hold
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 'le
                 tell
                 ye
                 all●
                 look
                 in
                 my
                 doublet
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 there
                 within
                 the
                 lining
                 in
                 a
                 paper
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 find
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Go
                 fetch
                 that
                 paper
                 hither
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 let
                 him
                 loose
                 for
                 this
                 time
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 ev'n
                 my
                 honest
                 friends
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 ev'n
                 good
                 fellow
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 
              
               
                 May
                 a
                 poor
                 huntsman
                 ,
                 with
                 a
                 merry
                 heart
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 voice
                 shall
                 make
                 the
                 Forrest
                 ring
                 about
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Get
                 leave
                 to
                 live
                 amongst
                 ye
                 ?
                 true
                 as
                 steel
                 boys
                 .
              
               
                 That
                 knows
                 all
                 chases
                 ,
                 and
                 can
                 watch
                 all
                 hours
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 with
                 ●y
                 quarter-st●ff●
                 ,
                 though
                 the
                 Divell
                 bid
                 stand
                 ,
              
               
                 De●l
                 such
                 an
                 almes
                 ,
                 shall
                 make
                 him
                 roar
                 again
                 ?
              
               
                 Prick
                 ye
                 the
                 fearfull
                 hare
                 through
                 crosse
                 wayes
                 ,
                 sheep
                 walks
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 force
                 the
                 craftie
                 Reynard
                 climb
                 the
                 quicks●ts
                 ;
              
               
                 Rouze
                 ye
                 the
                 lo●tie
                 Stag
                 ,
                 and
                 with
                 my
                 bell-horn
              
               
                 Ring
                 him
                 a
                 knell
                 ,
                 that
                 all
                 the
                 woods
                 shall
                 mourn
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 'Till
                 in
                 his
                 funeral
                 tears
                 he
                 fall
                 before
                 me
                 ?
              
               
                 The
                 
                   Polcat
                   ,
                   Marterne
                
                 ,
                 and
                 the
                 rich
                 skin'd
                 Lucerne
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 to
                 chase
                 the
                 Roe
                 ,
                 the
                 wind
                 our-stripping
              
               
                 Isgrin
                 himself
                 ,
                 in
                 all
                 his
                 bloody
                 anger
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 can
                 beat
                 from
                 the
                 bay
                 ;
                 and
                 the
                 wild
                 Sounder
              
               
                 Single
                 :
                 and
                 with
                 my
                 arm'd
                 staffe
                 ,
                 turn
                 the
                 Boa●
                 ,
              
               
               
                 Spight
                 of
                 his
                 ●omy
                 tushes
                 ;
                 and
                 thus
                 strike
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 'Till
                 he
                 fall
                 down
                 my
                 feast
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 goodly
                 fellow
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 mak'st
                 thou
                 here
                 ,
                 ha
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 accept
                 thy
                 fellowship
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Hem●kirk
                 ,
                 thou
                 art
                 not
                 right
                 I
                 fear
                 ,
                 I
                 fo●●
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Ferret
               .
               A
               Letter
               .
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 H●re
                 is
                 the
                 paper
                 :
                 and
                 as
                 he
                 said
                 ,
                 we
                 found
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 it
                 ,
                 I
                 shall
                 make
                 a
                 shift
                 yet
                 ,
                 old
                 as
                 I
                 am
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 find
                 your
                 knavery
                 :
                 you
                 are
                 sent
                 here
                 ,
                 Sirra
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 discover
                 certain
                 Gentlemen
                 ;
                 a
                 spy-knave
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 if
                 ye
                 find
                 'em
                 ,
                 If
                 not
                 by
                 perswa●ion
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 bring
                 'em
                 back
                 ,
                 by
                 poison
                 to
                 dispatch
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 poison
                 ,
                 ha
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 is
                 another
                 ,
                 Hubert
                 .
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 that
                 Hubert
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 perceive
                 there
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 may
                 perceive
                 a
                 vi●lanie
                 ,
                 and
                 a
                 rank
                 one
                 ,
              
               
                 Was
                 he
                 joyn'd
                 partner
                 of
                 thy
                 knaverie
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 No.
              
               
                 He
                 had
                 an
                 honest
                 end
                 ,
                 would
                 I
                 had
                 had
                 so
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 makes
                 him
                 scape
                 such
                 cut-throats
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 it
                 seems
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 here
                 thou
                 art
                 commanded
                 ,
                 when
                 that
                 Hubert
              
               
                 Has
                 done
                 his
                 best
                 and
                 worthiest
                 service
                 ,
                 this
                 way
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 cut
                 his
                 throat
                 ;
                 for
                 here
                 he
                 's
                 set
                 down
                 dangerous
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 most
                 impious
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 glad
                 we
                 have
                 found
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Is
                 not
                 this
                 true
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ;
                 what
                 are
                 you
                 the
                 better
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 shall
                 perceive
                 Sir
                 ,
                 e're
                 you
                 get
                 your
                 freedom
                 :
              
               
                 Take
                 him
                 aside
                 ;
                 and
                 friend
                 ,
                 we
                 take
                 thee
                 to
                 us
                 ,
              
               
                 Into
                 our
                 companie
                 ,
                 thou
                 dar'st
                 be
                 true
                 unto
                 us
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 and
                 obedient
                 to
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 had
                 ●red
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 take
                 our
                 hand
                 :
                 thou
                 art
                 now
                 a
                 servant
                 to
                 us
                 ,
              
               
                 Welcome
                 him
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Stand
                 off
                 ,
                 stand
                 off
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 do
                 it
                 :
              
               
                 We
                 bid
                 ye
                 welcome
                 three
                 waies
                 ;
                 first
                 for
                 your
                 person
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 a
                 promising
                 person
                 ;
                 next
                 for
                 your
                 quality
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 a
                 decent
                 ,
                 and
                 gentle
                 quality
                 ;
              
               
                 Last
                 or
                 the
                 f●●quent
                 means
                 you
                 have
                 to
                 feed
                 us
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 can
                 steal
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 to
                 be
                 presum'd
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 Venison
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 if
                 I
                 want
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 w●ll
                 you
                 understand
                 right
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 shall
                 learn
                 daily
                 :
                 you
                 can
                 drink
                 too
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Soundly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 ye
                 dare
                 know
                 a
                 woman
                 from
                 a
                 weather
                 cock
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 it
                 I
                 handle
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 swear
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 welcome
                 brother
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 All.
                 
              
               
                 Welcome
                 ,
                 welcome
                 ,
                 weldome
                 ,
                 but
                 who
                 shall
                 have
                 the
                 keeping
              
               
                 Of
                 this
                 fellow
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Thank
                 ye
                 friends
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 beseech
                 you
                 if
                 ye
                 dare
                 but
                 trust
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 if
                 I
                 have
                 kept
                 wild
                 dogs
                 ,
                 and
                 beasts
                 for
                 wonder
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 made
                 'em
                 tame
                 too
                 :
                 give
                 into
                 my
                 custody
              
               
                 This
                 roaring
                 rascal
                 ,
                 I
                 shall
                 hamper
                 him
                 .
              
               
                 With
                 all
                 his
                 knocks
                 and
                 knavery
                 ,
                 &
                 I
                 fear
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Discover
                 yet
                 a
                 further
                 vill●ny
                 in
                 him
                 ;
              
               
                 O
                 he
                 smells
                 rank
                 o'
                 th
                 rascal
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Take
                 him
                 to
                 thee
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 if
                 he
                 scape
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 
              
               
                 Let
                 me
                 be
                 ev'n
                 hang'd
                 for
                 him
                 ;
              
               
                 Room
                 S●r
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 tye
                 ye
                 to
                 my
                 l●●sh
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Away
                 Rascal
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Be
                 not
                 so
                 stubborn
                 :
                 I
                 shall
                 swinge
                 ye
                 soundlie
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 ye
                 p●ay
                 tricks
                 with
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 swear
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 crown
                 thy
                 nab
                 with
                 a
                 gag
                 of
                 benbouse
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 stall
                 thee
                 by
                 the
                 salmon
                 into
                 the
                 clowes
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 maund
                 on
                 the
                 pad
                 ,
                 and
                 strike
                 all
                 the
                 cheats
              
               
                 To
                 mill
                 from
                 the
                 Nuffmans
                 ,
                 commision
                 and
                 sla●es
                 ,
              
               
                 Twang
                 del●'s
                 i'
                 th
                 stiromel
                 ,
                 and
                 let
                 the
                 Quire
                 Cuffin
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Hermon
                 Beck
                 strine
                 ,
                 and
                 trine
                 to
                 the
                 Ruffin
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 interpret
                 this
                 unto
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 poure
                 on
                 thy
                 pate
                 a
                 pot
                 of
                 good
                 al●●
              
               
                 And
                 by
                 the
                 Rogues
                 oath
                 ,
                 a
                 Rogue
                 thee
                 install
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 beg
                 on
                 the
                 way
                 ,
                 to
                 rob
                 all
                 thou
                 meets
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 steal
                 from
                 the
                 hedge
                 ,
                 both
                 the
                 shirt
                 and
                 the
                 sheets
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 l●e
                 with
                 thy
                 wench
                 in
                 the
                 straw
                 till
                 she
                 twang
                 ,
              
               
               
                 Let
                 the
                 Constable
                 ,
                 Justice
                 ,
                 and
                 Divell
                 go
                 hang.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 ,
                 now
                 come
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 ever
                 have
                 an
                 eye
                 S●r
                 ,
                 to
                 your
                 prisoner
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 must
                 blind
                 both
                 mine
                 eyes
                 ,
                 if
                 he
                 get
                 from
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Go
                 ,
                 get
                 some
                 victuals
                 ,
                 and
                 some
                 drink
                 ,
                 some
                 good
                 drink
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 this
                 day
                 we●'l
                 keep
                 holy
                 to
                 good
                 fortune
                 ;
              
               
                 Come
                 and
                 be
                 f●olick
                 with
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Ye
                 are
                 a
                 stranger
                 .
                 
                   Exeunt
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Q●arta
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               ,
               and
               Bertha
               .
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Indeed
                 ye
                 are
                 welcome
                 :
                 I
                 have
                 ha●rd
                 your
                 scape
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 therefore
                 give
                 her
                 leave
                 that
                 only
                 loves
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 (
                 Truly
                 ,
                 and
                 dearly
                 loves
                 you
                 )
                 give
                 her
                 joy
                 leave
              
               
                 To
                 bid
                 you
                 welcome
                 :
                 what
                 is
                 't
                 makes
                 you
                 sad
                 man
                 ?
              
               
                 Why
                 do
                 you
                 look
                 so
                 wild
                 ?
                 is
                 't
                 I
                 offend
                 ye
                 ?
              
               
                 Beshrew
                 my
                 heart
                 ,
                 not
                 willingly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 Iertred
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 't
                 the
                 delay
                 of
                 that
                 ye
                 long
                 have
                 look'd
                 for
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 happy
                 marriage
                 ?
                 now
                 I
                 come
                 to
                 urge
                 it
                 :
              
               
                 Now
                 when
                 you
                 please
                 to
                 finish
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 newes
                 yet
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 hear
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 love
                 me
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Have
                 I
                 liv'd
              
               
                 In
                 all
                 the
                 happinesse
                 fortune
                 could
                 seat
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 all
                 mens
                 fair
                 opinions
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 provided
              
               
                 A
                 Priest
                 ,
                 that
                 's
                 ready
                 for
                 us
                 :
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 can
                 the
                 Divell
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 one
                 ten
                 days
                 ,
                 that
                 Divel
                 chance
                 devour
                 me
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Wee
                 'l
                 fly
                 to
                 what
                 place
                 you
                 please
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 star
                 prosperous
                 ?
              
               
                 All
                 at
                 a
                 swoop
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 do
                 not
                 love
                 me
                 Goswin
                 ?
              
               
                 You
                 will
                 not
                 look
                 upon
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Can
                 mens
                 prayers
              
               
                 Shot
                 up
                 to
                 heaven
                 ,
                 with
                 such
                 a
                 zeal
                 as
                 mine
                 are
                 ,
              
               
                 Fell
                 ●eck
                 like
                 lazy
                 mists
                 ,
                 and
                 never
                 prosper
                 ?
              
               
                 Gyv●s
                 I
                 must
                 weare
                 ,
                 and
                 cold
                 must
                 be
                 my
                 comfort
                 .
              
               
                 Darknesse
                 ,
                 and
                 want
                 of
                 meat
                 :
                 alas
                 !
                 she
                 weeps
                 too
                 ;
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 the
                 top
                 of
                 all
                 my
                 sorrows
                 :
                 Iertred
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 no
                 ,
                 you
                 will
                 not
                 know
                 me
                 ;
                 my
                 poor
                 beauty
                 ;
              
               
                 Which
                 has
                 been
                 worth
                 your
                 eyes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 time
                 growes
                 on
                 still
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 like
                 a
                 tumbling
                 wave
                 ,
                 I
                 see
                 my
                 ruine
              
               
                 Come
                 rolling
                 over
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Yet
                 will
                 ye
                 know
                 me
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 a
                 hundred
                 thousand
                 crowns
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Yet
                 will
                 ye
                 love
                 me
                 ?
              
               
                 Tell
                 me
                 but
                 how
                 I
                 have
                 deserv'd
                 your
                 slighting
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 a
                 hundred
                 thousand
                 crownes
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Farewell
                 dissembler
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Of
                 which
                 I
                 have
                 scarce
                 ten
                 :
                 oh
                 ,
                 how
                 it
                 starts
                 me
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 may
                 the
                 next
                 you
                 love
                 ,
                 hearing
                 my
                 ruine
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 had
                 forgot
                 my self
                 ,
                 O
                 my
                 best
                 Iertred
                 !
              
               
                 Crown
                 of
                 my
                 joyes
                 and
                 comforts
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Sweet
                 ,
                 what
                 ayle
                 ye
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 thought
                 you
                 had
                 been
                 vex'd
                 with
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 mind
                 ,
                 wench
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 mind
                 o'reflow'd
                 with
                 sorrow
                 ,
                 sunk
                 my
                 memory
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Am
                 I
                 not
                 worthie
                 of
                 the
                 knowledg
                 of
                 it
                 ?
              
               
                 And
                 cannot
                 I
                 as
                 well
                 affect
                 your
                 sorrowes
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 your
                 delights
                 ?
                 you
                 love
                 no
                 other
                 woman
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 I
                 protest
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 have
                 no
                 ships
                 lost
                 lately
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 None
                 that
                 I
                 know
                 of
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 hope
                 you
                 have
                 spilt
                 no
                 blood
                 ?
                 whose
                 innocence
              
               
                 May
                 lay
                 this
                 on
                 your
                 conscience
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Clear
                 ,
                 by
                 heaven
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 should
                 you
                 be
                 thus
                 then
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 Iertred
                 ,
                 ask
                 not
                 ,
              
               
                 Ev'n
                 by
                 the
                 love
                 you
                 bear
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 obedient
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Go
                 in
                 my
                 fair
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 not
                 be
                 long
                 from
                 ye
                 ;
              
               
                 Nor
                 long
                 ,
                 I
                 fear
                 me
                 ,
                 with
                 thee
                 :
                 At
                 my
                 return
              
               
                 Despise
                 me
                 as
                 you
                 please
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 good
                 gods
                 guide
                 ye
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 for
                 my self
                 ,
                 which
                 is
                 the
                 least
                 I
                 hope
                 for
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 when
                 that
                 falles
                 ,
                 for
                 mans
                 worst
                 fortune
                 ,
                 pl●y
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
          
        
         
           
           
             Actus
             Quartus
             ,
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Prima
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               and
               four
               Merchants
               .
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 WHy
                 Gentlemen
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 a
                 week
                 more
                 I
                 intreat
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 seven
                 short
                 days
                 ,
                 I
                 am
                 not
                 running
                 from
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 ,
                 if
                 you
                 give
                 me
                 patience
                 ,
                 is
                 it
                 possible
              
               
                 All
                 my
                 adventures
                 fail
                 ;
                 you
                 have
                 ships
                 abroad
                 ,
              
               
                 Endure
                 the
                 beating
                 both
                 of
                 wind
                 or
                 weather
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 sure
                 't
                 would
                 vex
                 your
                 hearts
                 to
                 be
                 protested
                 ;
              
               
                 Ye
                 are
                 all
                 fair
                 Merchants
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 and
                 must
                 have
                 fair
                 play
                 ,
              
               
                 There
                 is
                 no
                 lying
                 here
                 else
                 ;
                 one
                 hours
                 failing
              
               
                 Fails
                 us
                 of
                 all
                 our
                 friends
                 ,
                 of
                 all
                 our
                 credits
                 :
              
               
                 For
                 my
                 part
                 I
                 would
                 stay
                 ,
                 but
                 my
                 wants
                 tell
                 me
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 wrong
                 others
                 i●'t
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 mercy
                 in
                 ye
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 foolish
                 to
                 depend
                 on
                 others
                 mercy
                 :
              
               
                 Keep
                 your self
                 right
                 ,
                 and
                 even
                 cut
                 your
                 cloth
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 According
                 to
                 your
                 calling
                 :
                 you
                 have
                 liv'd
                 here
              
               
                 In
                 Lord-like
                 prodig●lity
                 ,
                 high
                 and
                 open
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 ye
                 find
                 what
                 't
                 is
                 :
                 the
                 liberal
                 spending
              
               
                 The
                 summer
                 of
                 your
                 youth
                 ,
                 which
                 you
                 should
                 glean
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 like
                 the
                 labouring
                 Ant
                 make
                 use
                 and
                 gain
                 of
                 ,
              
               
                 Has
                 brought
                 this
                 bitter
                 stormy
                 winter
                 on
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 you
                 cry
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Alas
                 !
                 before
                 your
                 poverty
              
               
                 We
                 were
                 no
                 men
                 ,
                 of
                 no
                 mark
                 ,
                 no
                 endeavour
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 stood
                 alone
                 ,
                 took
                 up
                 all
                 trade
                 ,
                 all
                 business
              
               
                 Running
                 through
                 your
                 hands
                 ,
                 scarce
                 a
                 sayl
                 at
                 Sea
              
               
                 But
                 loaden
                 with
                 your
                 goods
                 :
                 we
                 poor
                 weak
                 pedlers
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 by
                 your
                 leave
                 ,
                 and
                 much
                 intreaty
                 to
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 could
                 have
                 ●●oage
                 for
                 a
                 little
                 cloth
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 a
                 few
                 wines
                 ,
                 put
                 off
                 ,
                 and
                 thank
                 your
                 Worship
                 .
              
               
                 Lord
                 ,
                 how
                 the
                 world
                 's
                 chang'd
                 with
                 ye
                 ?
                 now
                 I
                 hope
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 shall
                 have
                 sea-room
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flor.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 my
                 misery
              
               
                 Become
                 my
                 scorn
                 too
                 ?
                 have
                 ye
                 no
                 humanity
                 ,
              
               
                 N●
                 part
                 of
                 men
                 left
                 ?
                 are
                 all
                 the
                 bounties
                 in
                 me
              
               
                 To
                 you
                 ,
                 &
                 to
                 the
                 town
                 ,
                 turn'd
                 my
                 reproaches
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 get
                 your
                 moneys
                 ready
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 two
                 hours
                 ,
              
               
                 VVe
                 shall
                 p●otest
                 ye
                 else
                 ,
                 and
                 suddenly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 two
                 days
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 an
                 hour
                 ,
                 ye
                 know
                 the
                 hazard
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               .
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 soon
                 my
                 lights
                 put
                 out
                 :
                 hard-hearted
                 Bruges
                 ,
              
               
                 Within
                 thy
                 walls
                 may
                 never
                 honest
                 Merchant
              
               
                 Venture
                 his
                 fortunes
                 more
                 :
                 O
                 my
                 poor
                 wench
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 fortune
                 ,
                 Master
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 mistak'st
                 me
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 not
                 worth
                 thy
                 blessing
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Still
                 a
                 sad
                 man
                 ?
              
               
                 Enter
                 Higgen
                 and
                 Prig
                 ,
                 like
                 Porters
                 .
              
               
                 No
                 belief
                 gentle
                 Master
                 ?
                 come
                 ,
                 bring
                 it
                 in
                 then
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 believe
                 your
                 Beadsman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 this
                 certain
                 ?
              
               
                 Or
                 dost
                 thou
                 work
                 upon
                 my
                 troubled
                 sense
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 gold
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 Take
                 it
                 and
                 try
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Certainly
                 't
                 is
                 treasure
                 ;
              
               
                 Can
                 there
                 be
                 yet
                 this
                 blessing
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Cease
                 your
                 wonder
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 shal●
                 not
                 sink
                 for
                 nev'r
                 a
                 sous'd
                 flap-draggon
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 nere
                 a
                 pickl'd
                 pilcher
                 of
                 'em
                 all
                 ,
                 S●r
                 ;
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 there
                 your
                 full
                 sum
                 ,
                 a
                 hundred
                 thousand
                 Crowns
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 good
                 sweet
                 master
                 ,
                 now
                 be
                 merry
                 ;
                 pay
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 Pay
                 the
                 poor
                 pelting
                 knaves
                 ,
                 that
                 know
                 no
                 goodness
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 chear
                 your
                 heart
                 up
                 handsomly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 Clause
              
               
                 How
                 cam'st
                 thou
                 by
                 this
                 mighty
                 sum
                 ?
                 if
                 naughtily
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 not
                 take
                 it
                 of
                 thee
                 ,
                 't
                 will
                 undo
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Fear
                 not
                 ;
                 you
                 have
                 it
                 by
                 as
                 honest
                 means
              
               
                 As
                 though
                 your
                 father
                 gave
                 it
                 ;
                 Sir
                 ,
                 you
                 know
                 not
              
               
                 To
                 what
                 a
                 mass
                 the
                 little
                 we
                 dayly
                 get
              
               
                 Mounts
                 in
                 s●ven
                 years
                 ;
                 we
                 beg
                 it
                 for
                 heavens
                 charity
                 ,
              
               
               
                 And
                 to
                 the
                 same
                 good
                 we
                 are
                 bound
                 to
                 render
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 great
                 ●●curity
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Away
                 with
                 that
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
              
               
                 Were
                 not
                 ye
                 more
                 then
                 all
                 the
                 men
                 in
                 Bruges
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 the
                 money
                 in
                 my
                 thoughts
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 good
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 may
                 dye
                 presently
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 this
                 dies
                 with
                 ye
                 .
              
               
                 Pay
                 when
                 you
                 can
                 ,
                 good
                 Master
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 no
                 parchments
                 ,
              
               
                 Only
                 this
                 charity
                 I
                 shall
                 entreat
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Leave
                 me
                 this
                 ring
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Alas
                 ▪
                 it
                 is
                 too
                 poor
                 Clause
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 all
                 I
                 ask
                 ,
                 and
                 this
                 withal
                 ,
                 that
                 when
              
               
                 I
                 shall
                 deliver
                 this
                 back
                 ,
                 you
                 shall
                 grant
                 me
              
               
                 Freely
                 one
                 poor
                 petition
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 There
                 ,
                 I
                 confess
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 may
                 my
                 faith
                 forsake
                 me
                 when
                 I
                 shun
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Away
                 ,
                 your
                 time
                 draws
                 on
                 :
                 Take
                 up
                 the
                 money
              
               
                 And
                 follow
                 this
                 young
                 Gentleman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Farewel
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 may
                 thy
                 honest
                 memory
                 live
                 ever
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 bless
                 ye
                 and
                 still
                 keep
                 ye
                 ;
                 farewel
                 Master
                 .
                 
                   Ex●unt
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Secunda
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 lockt
                 my
                 youth
                 up
                 close
                 enough
                 for
                 gadding
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 an
                 old
                 tree
                 ,
                 and
                 set
                 watch
                 over
                 him
                 .
              
               
                 Enter
                 Iaculine
                 .
              
               
                 Now
                 for
                 my
                 Love
                 ,
                 for
                 sure
                 this
                 wench
                 must
                 be
                 she
                 ;
              
               
                 She
                 follows
                 me
                 ;
                 Come
                 hither
                 pretty
                 Minche
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 no
                 ,
                 you
                 'l
                 kiss
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 I
                 will.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 Y'ded
                 law
                 ?
              
               
                 How
                 will
                 ye
                 kiss
                 me
                 ,
                 pray
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Thus
                 :
                 soft
                 as
                 my
                 loves
                 lips
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 Oh!
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 's
                 your
                 Fathers
                 name
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 's
                 gone
                 to
                 heaven
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 it
                 not
                 Gerrard
                 ,
                 sweet
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 stay
                 no
                 longer
                 ;
              
               
                 My
                 mother
                 's
                 an
                 old
                 woman
                 ,
                 and
                 my
                 brother
              
               
                 Was
                 drown'd
                 at
                 Sea
                 ,
                 with
                 catching
                 Cockles
                 .
                 O
                 love
                 !
              
               
                 O
                 how
                 my
                 heart
                 melts
                 in
                 me
                 !
                 how
                 thou
                 fir'st
                 me
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 certain
                 she
                 :
                 pray
                 let
                 me
                 see
                 your
                 hand
                 sweet
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 no
                 ,
                 you
                 'l
                 bite
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Sure
                 I
                 should
                 know
                 that
                 Gymmal
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 certain
                 he
                 :
                 I
                 had
                 forgot
                 my
                 ring
                 too
                 .
              
               
                 O
                 
                   Hubert
                   ,
                   Hubert
                
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Ha
                 ?
                 methought
                 she
                 nam'd
                 me
                 —
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 know
                 me
                 ,
                 Chick
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 indeed
                 ,
                 I
                 never
                 saw
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 methinks
                 you
                 kiss
                 finely
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Kiss
                 again
                 then
                 ;
              
               
                 By
                 heaven
                 't
                 is
                 she
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 what
                 a
                 joy
                 he
                 brings
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 not
                 Minche
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 pretty
                 Gentleman
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 must
                 be
                 married
                 to
                 morrow
                 to
                 a
                 Capper
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Must
                 ye
                 my
                 sweet
                 ?
                 and
                 does
                 the
                 Capper
                 love
                 ye
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 yes
                 ,
                 he
                 'l
                 give
                 me
                 pye
                 ,
                 and
                 look
                 in
                 mine
                 eyes
                 thus
                 .
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 he
                 ;
                 't
                 is
                 my
                 dear
                 love
                 :
                 O
                 blest
                 fortune
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ●ain
                 she
                 would
                 conceal
                 her self
                 ?
                 yet
                 shew
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 Will
                 ye
                 love
                 me
                 ,
                 and
                 leave
                 that
                 man
                 ?
                 I
                 'le
                 serve
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 ,
                 I
                 shall
                 lose
                 my self
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 wait
                 upon
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 make
                 ye
                 dainty
                 Nose-gays
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 where
                 will
                 ye
                 stick
                 '
                 em
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 in
                 bosome
                 ,
                 and
                 make
                 a
                 crown
                 of
                 Lilli●s
              
               
                 For
                 your
                 fair
                 head
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 will
                 ye
                 love
                 me
                 '
                 deed-law
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 With
                 all
                 my
                 heart
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 Call
                 me
                 to
                 morrow
                 then
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 we
                 'l
                 have
                 brave
                 chear
                 ,
                 and
                 go
                 to
                 Church
                 together
                 .
              
               
                 Give
                 you
                 good
                 ev'n
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 one
                 word
                 fair
                 Minche
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 be
                 gone
                 a
                 milking
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Ye
                 shall
                 presently
                 .
              
               
                 Did
                 you
                 never
                 hear
                 of
                 a
                 young
                 Maid
                 called
                 Iaculine
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Iac.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 discovered
                 ;
                 hark
                 ,
                 in
                 your
                 ear
                 I
                 'le
                 tell
                 ye
                 ;
              
               
               
                 You
                 must
                 not
                 know
                 me●
                 Kiss
                 and
                 be
                 constant
                 ever
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 curse
                 me
                 else
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 she
                 ;
                 and
                 now
                 I
                 'me
                 certain
              
               
                 They
                 are
                 all
                 here
                 :
                 No●
                 for
                 my
                 other
                 project
                 .
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Tertia
               .
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 Florez
                 ,
                 f●ur
                 Merchants
                 ,
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 and
                 Prig.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 if
                 it
                 would
                 do
                 you
                 courtesie
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 None
                 at
                 all
                 Sir
                 ;
              
               
                 Take
                 it
                 ,
                 '
                 ●is
                 yours
                 :
                 there
                 's
                 your
                 ten
                 thousand
                 for
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 Give
                 in
                 my
                 Bills
                 :
                 your
                 sixteen
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Pray
                 be
                 pleas'd
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 make
                 a
                 further
                 use
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 3
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 I
                 have
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 command
                 ;
                 pray
                 let
                 me
                 be
                 your
                 Servant
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Put
                 your
                 hats
                 on
                 ;
                 I
                 care
                 not
                 for
                 your
                 courtesies
                 ,
              
               
                 They
                 are
                 most
                 untimely
                 done
                 ,
                 and
                 no
                 truth
                 in
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 a
                 fraught
                 of
                 pepper
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Rot
                 your
                 pepper
                 ;
              
               
                 Shall
                 I
                 trust
                 you
                 again
                 ?
                 there
                 's
                 your
                 seven
                 thousand
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 4
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 if
                 you
                 want
                 fine
                 sugar
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 sending
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 I
                 can
                 send
                 to
                 Barbary
                 ;
                 those
                 people
              
               
                 That
                 never
                 yet
                 knew
                 faith
                 ,
                 have
                 nobler
                 freedoms
                 .
              
               
                 These
                 carry
                 to
                 Vanlock
                 and
                 take
                 my
                 Bills
                 in
                 :
              
               
                 To
                 
                   Peter
                   Zuten
                
                 th●se
                 :
                 bring
                 back
                 my
                 Jewels
                 :
              
               
                 Why
                 are
                 these
                 pieces
                 ?
              
            
             
               Exter
               Saylor
               .
            
             
               
                 Saylor
                 .
              
               
                 Health
                 to
                 the
                 noble
                 Merchant
                 ;
              
               
                 The
                 Susan
                 is
                 return'd
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Say.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 ,
                 and
                 rich
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 put
                 in
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Heaven
                 thou
                 hast
                 heard
                 my
                 prayers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Say.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 brave
                 
                 Rebecca
                 ●oo
                 ,
                 bound
                 from
                 〈◊〉
                 Straights
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 the
                 next
                 tide
                 is
                 ready
                 to
                 put
                 after
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 news
                 o'
                 th'
                 Fly-b●at
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Say.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 this
                 wind
                 hold
                 till
                 midnight
                 ,
              
               
                 She
                 will
                 be
                 here
                 ,
                 and
                 wealthy
                 ,
                 scap'd
                 fairly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 ,
                 pre'thee
                 Saylor
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Say.
                 
              
               
                 Thus
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
                 she
                 had
                 fight
              
               
                 Seven
                 hours
                 together
                 with
                 six
                 Turkish
                 Gallies
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 she
                 fought
                 br●vely
                 ,
                 but
                 at
                 length
                 was
                 boarded
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 ove●laid
                 with
                 strength
                 ;
                 when
                 presently
              
               
                 Comes
                 boring
                 up
                 the
                 wind
                 Captain
                 Van-noke
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 valiant
                 Gentleman
                 you
                 redeem'd
                 from
                 prison
                 ;
              
               
                 He
                 knew
                 the
                 Boat
                 ,
                 set
                 in
                 ,
                 and
                 fought
                 it
                 bravely
                 ,
              
               
                 Beat
                 all
                 the
                 Gallies
                 off
                 ,
                 sunk
                 three
                 ,
                 redeem'd
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 as
                 a
                 service
                 to
                 ye
                 ,
                 sent
                 her
                 home
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 A●
                 honest
                 noble
                 Captain
                 ,
                 and
                 a
                 thankfull
                 .
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 for
                 thy
                 news
                 ;
                 go
                 drink
                 the
                 Merchants
                 healt●
                 ,
                 Saylor
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Say.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thank
                 your
                 bounty
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 'le
                 do
                 it
                 to
                 a
                 doyt
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
                   Exit
                   Saylor
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 miracles
                 are
                 powr'd
                 upon
                 this
                 fellow
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 year
                 I
                 hope
                 ,
                 my
                 friends
                 ,
                 I
                 shall
                 scape
                 prison
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 all
                 your
                 ca●es
                 to
                 catch
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 please
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 think
                 of
                 your
                 p●or
                 servants
                 in
                 displeasure
                 ,
              
               
                 Whose
                 all
                 they
                 have
                 goods
                 ,
                 moneys
                 ,
                 are
                 at
                 your
                 service
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thank
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 I
                 have
                 need
                 of
                 you
                 I
                 shall
                 forget
                 you
                 :
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 paid
                 I
                 hope
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 All.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 joy
                 in
                 your
                 good
                 fortunes
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Van-dunck
               .
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 Sir
                 ,
                 come
                 take
                 your
                 ease
                 ,
                 you
                 must
                 go
                 home
              
               
                 With
                 me
                 ,
                 yonder
                 is
                 one
                 weeps
                 and
                 howls
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Alas
                 ,
                 how
                 does
                 she
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 will
                 be
                 better
                 soon
                 I
                 hope
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 soon
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 when
                 you
                 have
                 her
                 in
                 your
                 arms
                 ,
                 this
                 night
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 boy
                 she
                 is
                 thy
                 wife
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 With
                 all
                 my
                 heart
                 I
                 take
                 h●r
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 have
                 p●epared
                 ;
                 all
                 thy
                 friends
                 will
                 be
                 there
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 my
                 rooms
                 shall
                 smoke
                 to
                 see
                 the
                 Revel
                 :
              
               
               
                 Thou
                 hast
                 been
                 wrong'd
                 ,
                 and
                 no
                 more
                 shall
                 my
                 service
              
               
                 Wait
                 on
                 the
                 knave
                 her
                 Uncle
                 ;
                 I
                 have
                 heard
                 all
                 ,
              
               
                 All
                 ●is
                 baits
                 for
                 my
                 boy
                 ;
                 but
                 thou
                 sh●lt
                 have
                 her
                 ;
              
               
                 Hast
                 thou
                 dispatch'd
                 thy
                 business
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Most
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 the
                 mass
                 Boy
                 ,
              
               
                 Thou
                 tumblest
                 now
                 in
                 wealth
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 joy
                 in
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 Thou
                 art
                 the
                 best
                 Boy
                 that
                 Bruges
                 ever
                 nourish'd
                 :
              
               
                 Thou
                 hast
                 been
                 sad
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 chear
                 thee
                 up
                 with
                 Sack
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 when
                 thou
                 a●t
                 lusty
                 I
                 'le
                 fling
                 th●e
                 to
                 thy
                 Mist●ess
                 :
              
               
                 She
                 'l
                 hug
                 thee
                 ,
                 sirra
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 long
                 to
                 see
                 it
                 .
              
               
                 I
                 had
                 forgot
                 you
                 ;
                 there
                 's
                 for
                 you
                 my
                 friends
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 had
                 but
                 heavy
                 burthens
                 ;
                 commend
                 my
                 love
              
               
                 To
                 my
                 best
                 love
                 ;
                 all
                 the
                 love
                 I
                 have
              
               
                 To
                 ●on●st
                 Clause
                 ,
                 shortly
                 I
                 will
                 thank
                 him
                 better
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               .
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 the
                 Mass
                 a
                 Royal
                 Merchant
                 ,
              
               
                 Gold
                 by
                 the
                 handful
                 ;
                 here
                 wil●
                 be
                 sport
                 soon
                 Prig.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 partly
                 seems
                 so
                 ,
                 and
                 here
                 will
                 I
                 be
                 in
                 a
                 trice
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 boy
                 ;
              
               
                 Away
                 apace
                 we
                 are
                 lookld
                 for
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig
                 
              
               
                 Oh
                 these
                 bak'd
                 meats
                 ,
              
               
                 Methinks
                 I
                 smell
                 them
                 h●
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Thy
                 mouth
                 waters
                 .
                 
                   Exeunt
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Quarta
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               and
               Hemskirck
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 ?
                 't
                 is
                 in
                 thy
                 power
                 to
                 do
                 it
                 ,
                 and
                 in
                 mine
              
               
                 To
                 reward
                 thee
                 to
                 thy
                 wishes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 dare
                 not
                 ,
                 nor
                 I
                 will
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Gentle
                 Huntsman
                 ,
              
               
                 Though
                 thou
                 ha●t
                 kept
                 me
                 hard
                 ,
                 though
                 in
                 thy
                 duty
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 requir'd
                 to
                 do
                 it
                 ,
                 th'
                 hast
                 used
                 me
                 stubbornly
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 can
                 forgive
                 thee
                 freely
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 the
                 Earls
                 servant
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 swear
                 I
                 am
                 near
                 as
                 his
                 own
                 thoughts
                 to
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Able
                 to
                 do
                 thee
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 ,
                 come
                 ,
                 leave
                 your
                 prating
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 thou
                 dar'st
                 but
                 try
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 thank
                 you
                 heartily
                 ,
                 you
                 will
                 be
              
               
                 The
                 first
                 man
                 that
                 will
                 hang
                 me
                 ,
                 a
                 sweet
                 recompence
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 could
                 do
                 ,
                 but
                 I
                 do
                 not
                 say
                 I
                 will
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 any
                 honest
                 fellow
                 that
                 would
                 think
                 on
                 't
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 be
                 a
                 benefactor
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 it
                 be
                 not
                 recompenced
                 ,
                 and
                 to
                 thy
                 own
                 desires
                 ,
              
               
                 I●
                 within
                 th●se
                 ten
                 days
                 I
                 do
                 not
                 make
                 thee
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ,
                 a
                 false
                 knave
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Prethee
                 ,
                 p●e
                 hee
                 conceive
                 me
                 tightly
                 ,
                 any
                 thing
              
               
                 Of
                 profit
                 or
                 of
                 place
                 that
                 may
                 advance
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 ,
                 what
                 a
                 G●os-cap
                 would'st
                 thou
                 make
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Do
                 not
                 I
                 know
                 that
                 men
                 in
                 misery
                 will
                 promise
              
               
                 Any
                 thing
                 ,
                 more
                 then
                 their
                 lives
                 can
                 reach
                 at
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Believe
                 me
                 Huntsman
                 .
              
               
                 There
                 shall
                 not
                 one
                 short
                 syllable
              
               
                 That
                 comes
                 from
                 me
                 ,
                 pass
              
               
                 Without
                 its
                 full
                 performance
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Say
                 you
                 so
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
               
                 Have
                 ye
                 ere
                 a
                 ●ood
                 place
                 for
                 my
                 quality
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem
                 
              
               
                 A
                 thousand
                 Chases
                 ,
                 Forests
                 ,
                 Parks
                 ;
                 I
                 'le
                 make
                 thee
              
               
                 Chiefe
                 ranger
                 over
                 all
                 the
                 games
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 When
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Presently
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 may
                 provoke
                 me
                 ;
                 and
                 yet
                 to
                 prove
                 a
                 knave
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 to
                 prove
                 honest
                 ;
                 't
                 is
                 to
                 do
                 good
                 service
                 ,
              
               
                 Service
                 for
                 him
                 thou
                 art
                 sworn
                 too
                 ,
                 for
                 thy
                 Prince
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 for
                 thy self
                 that
                 good
                 :
                 what
                 fool
                 would
                 live
                 here
              
               
                 Poor
                 ,
                 and
                 in
                 misery
                 ,
                 subject
                 to
                 all
                 dangers
              
               
                 Law
                 and
                 lewd
                 people
                 can
                 inflict
                 ,
                 when
                 bravely
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 to
                 himself
                 he
                 may
                 be
                 Law
                 and
                 credit
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Shall
                 I
                 believe
                 thee
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 that
                 thou
                 holdst
                 most
                 holy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Ye
                 may
                 play
                 tricks
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 let
                 me
                 never
                 live
                 more
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 you
                 shall
                 see
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 do
                 a
                 service
              
               
                 That
                 shall
                 deserve
                 indeed
                 .
              
            
             
               
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 well
                 said
                 Huntsman
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 thou
                 shalt
                 be
                 well
                 thought
                 of
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 do
                 it
                 :
                 'T
                 is
                 not
                 your
                 letting
                 f●ee
                 ,
                 for
                 that
                 's
                 meer
                 nothing
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 such
                 a
                 service
                 ,
                 if
                 the
                 Earl
                 be
                 noble
                 ,
              
               
                 He
                 shall
                 for
                 ever
                 love
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 is
                 't
                 Huntsman
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 ▪
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 know
                 any
                 of
                 these
                 people
                 live
                 here
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 are
                 a
                 fool
                 then
                 ;
                 here
                 be
                 those
                 to
                 have
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 the
                 Earl
                 so
                 well
                 ,
                 would
                 make
                 him
                 caper
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Any
                 of
                 the
                 old
                 Lords
                 that
                 rebel●d
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Peace
                 ,
                 all
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 'em
                 every
                 one
                 ,
                 and
                 can
                 betray
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 wilt
                 thou
                 do
                 this
                 service
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 'l
                 keep
              
               
                 Your
                 faith
                 ,
                 and
                 free
                 word
                 to
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Wilt
                 thou
                 swear
                 me
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 no
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 believe
                 ye
                 :
                 more
                 then
                 that
                 too
                 ,
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 the
                 right
                 heir
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 honest
                 ,
                 honest
                 Huntsman
                 !
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 ,
                 how
                 to
                 get
                 these
                 Gallants
                 ,
                 there
                 's
                 the
                 matter
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 will
                 be
                 constant
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 no
                 work
                 for
                 me
                 else
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 the
                 Sun
                 shine
                 again
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 way
                 to
                 get
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Propound
                 it
                 ,
                 and
                 it
                 shall
                 be
                 done
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub
                 ,
              
               
                 No
                 sleight
                 ,
              
               
                 (
                 For
                 they
                 are
                 devilish
                 crafty
                 ,
                 it
                 concerns
                 'em
                 )
              
               
                 Nor
                 reconcilement
                 ,
                 (
                 for
                 they
                 dare
                 not
                 trust
                 neither
                 ,
                 )
              
               
                 Must
                 do
                 this
                 trick
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 force
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 that
                 must
                 do
                 it
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 with
                 the
                 person
                 of
                 the
                 Earl
                 himself
                 ,
              
               
                 Authority
                 (
                 and
                 mighty
                 )
                 must
                 come
                 on
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 else
                 in
                 vain
                 ;
                 and
                 thus
                 I
                 would
                 have
                 ye
                 do
                 it
                 :
              
               
                 To
                 morrow
                 night
                 be
                 here
                 ;
                 a
                 hundred
                 men
                 will
                 bear
                 'em
                 ;
              
               
                 (
                 So
                 he
                 be
                 there
                 ,
                 for
                 he
                 's
                 both
                 wise
                 and
                 valiant
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 with
                 his
                 terrour
                 will
                 strike
                 dead
                 their
                 forces
                 .
                 )
              
               
                 The
                 hour
                 be
                 twelve
                 a
                 Clock
                 ;
                 now
                 for
                 a
                 guide
              
               
                 To
                 draw
                 ye
                 without
                 danger
                 on
                 these
                 persons
                 ;
              
               
                 The
                 woods
                 being
                 thick
                 and
                 hard
                 to
                 hit
                 ,
                 my self
              
               
                 With
                 some
                 few
                 with
                 me
                 ,
                 made
                 unto
                 our
                 purpose
                 ,
              
               
                 Beyond
                 the
                 wood
                 ,
                 upon
                 the
                 plain
                 will
                 wait
                 ye
              
               
                 By
                 the
                 great
                 Oak
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 it
                 :
                 keep
                 thy
                 faith
                 Hunts-man
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 such
                 a
                 shour
                 of
                 wealth
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 warrant
                 ye
                 :
              
               
                 Mi●s
                 nothing
                 that
                 I
                 tell
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Farewell
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 have
                 your
                 liberty
                 ,
                 now
                 use
                 it
                 wisely
                 ▪
              
               
                 And
                 keep
                 your
                 hour
                 ;
                 go
                 closer
                 about
                 the
                 wood
                 there
                 .
              
               
                 For
                 fear
                 they
                 spie
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 bring
                 no
                 noise
                 with
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 All
                 shall
                 be
                 done
                 to
                 th'
                 purpose
                 :
                 farewell
                 Hunts-man
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               ,
               Higgen
               ,
               Prig
               ,
               Gynks
               ,
               Snap
               ,
               Ferret
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 what
                 's
                 the
                 news
                 in
                 town
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 news
                 but
                 joy
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
              
               
                 Every
                 man
                 wooing
                 of
                 the
                 noble
                 Merchant
                 ,
              
               
                 Who
                 has
                 his
                 hearty
                 commendations
                 to
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 this
                 is
                 news
                 ,
                 this
                 night
                 he
                 's
                 to
                 be
                 married
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 th'
                 Mass
                 that
                 's
                 true
                 ,
                 he
                 marries
                 Van-duncks
                 daughter
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 dainty
                 black-ey'd
                 bell
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 would
                 my
                 clapper
              
               
                 Hung
                 in
                 his
                 Bald-rick
                 ,
                 what
                 a
                 peal
                 could
                 I
                 ring
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Married
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Gyn.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 very
                 true
                 Sir
                 ;
                 O
                 the
                 pyes
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 piping-hot-mince-pies
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 the
                 plum
                 pottage
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 one
                 leg
                 of
                 a
                 Goose
                 now
                 would
                 I
                 venture
                 a
                 limb
                 boys
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 love
                 a
                 fat
                 Goose
                 as
                 I
                 love
                 Allegiance
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 —
                 upon
                 the
                 Boors
                 ,
                 too
                 well
                 they
                 know
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 therefore
                 starve
                 their
                 poultry
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Ger
                 
              
               
                 To
                 be
                 married
              
               
                 To
                 Van-duncks
                 daughter
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 this
                 precious
                 Merchant
                 ;
              
               
                 What
                 sport
                 he
                 will
                 have
                 ?
                 But
                 hark
                 ye
                 brother
                 Prig
                 ,
              
               
                 Shall
                 we
                 do
                 nothing
                 in
                 the
                 fore-said
                 wedding
                 ?
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 money
                 to
                 be
                 go●
                 ,
                 and
                 meat
                 I
                 take
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 What
                 think
                 ye
                 of
                 a
                 moris●
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 by
                 no
                 means
                 ,
              
               
               
                 ●hat
                 goes
                 no
                 further
                 th●n
                 the
                 street
                 ,
                 there
                 leaves
                 ●●
                 ;
              
               
                 Now
                 we
                 must
                 think
                 of
                 something
                 that
                 must
                 draw
                 us
              
               
                 Into
                 the
                 bowels
                 of
                 it
                 ,
                 into
                 th'
                 buttery
                 ,
              
               
                 Into
                 the
                 Kitchen
                 ,
                 into
                 the
                 Cellar
                 ,
                 something
              
               
                 That
                 that
                 old
                 drunken
                 Burgo-master
                 loves
                 ;
              
               
                 What
                 think
                 ye
                 of
                 a
                 Wassel
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 think
                 worthily
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 very
                 fit
                 it
                 should
                 be
                 ;
                 thou
                 ,
                 and
                 Ferret
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Gynks
                 to
                 sing
                 the
                 song
                 ;
                 I
                 for
                 the
                 structure
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 is
                 the
                 bowl
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Which
                 must
                 be
                 up-sey
                 English
                 ,
              
               
                 Strong
                 lusty
                 London
                 Beer
                 ;
                 le●s
                 think
                 more
                 of
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 must
                 not
                 marry
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               .
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 your
                 leave
                 in
                 private
                 ,
              
               
                 One
                 word
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 with
                 ye
                 ,
                 Gerrard
                 ;
                 do
                 not
                 start
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 ye
                 ,
                 and
                 he
                 knows
                 ye
                 that
                 best
                 loves
                 ye
                 ;
              
               
                 Hubert
                 speaks
                 to
                 ye
                 ,
                 and
                 you
                 must
                 be
                 Gerrard
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 time
                 invites
                 you
                 to
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Make
                 no
                 shew
                 then
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 glad
                 to
                 see
                 you
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 am
                 Gerrard
                 ;
              
               
                 How
                 stands
                 affairs
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Fair
                 ,
                 if
                 ye
                 dare
                 now
                 follow
                 ;
              
               
                 Hemskirk
                 I
                 have
                 let
                 go
                 ,
                 and
                 these
                 my
                 causes
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 tell
                 ye
                 privately
                 ,
                 and
                 how
                 I
                 have
                 wrought
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 then
                 to
                 prove
                 me
                 honest
                 to
                 my
                 friends
                 ,
              
               
                 Look
                 upon
                 these
                 directions
                 ;
                 you
                 have
                 seen
                 his
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 will
                 I
                 speak
                 a
                 speech
                 ,
                 and
                 a
                 brave
                 speech
              
               
                 In
                 praise
                 of
                 Merchants
                 ;
                 where
                 's
                 the
                 Ape
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 —
                 Take
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 gowty
                 Bear-ward
                 stole
                 him
                 the
                 other
                 day
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 his
                 Bears
                 worry
                 him
                 ,
                 that
                 Ape
                 had
                 paid
                 it
                 ;
              
               
                 What
                 dainty
                 tricks
                 ?
                 —
                 o'
                 that
                 whorson
                 Bear-ward
                 :
              
               
                 In
                 his
                 french
                 doublet
                 ,
                 with
                 his
                 bastar'd
                 bullions
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 a
                 long
                 stock
                 ty'd
                 up
                 ,
                 O
                 how
                 daintily
              
               
                 Would
                 I
                 have
                 made
                 him
                 wait
                 ,
                 and
                 change
                 a
                 trencher
                 ,
              
               
                 Carry
                 a
                 cup
                 of
                 wine
                 ?
                 ten
                 thousand
                 stinks
              
               
                 Wait
                 on
                 thy
                 mangy
                 soul
                 thou
                 lowzy
                 Bear-ward
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 passing
                 well
                 ,
                 I
                 both
                 believe
                 and
                 joy
                 in
                 't
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 will
                 be
                 ready
                 ,
                 keep
                 you
                 h●re
                 the
                 mean
                 while
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 keep
                 this
                 in
                 ;
                 I
                 must
                 a
                 while
                 forsake
                 ye●
              
               
                 Upon
                 mine
                 anger
                 no
                 man
                 stir
                 this
                 two
                 hours
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 to
                 the
                 wedding
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 any
                 whither
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Wedding
                 must
                 be
                 seen
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
                 we
                 want
                 meat
                 too
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 be
                 monstrous
                 out
                 of
                 meat
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Shall
                 it
                 be
                 spoken
                 ,
              
               
                 Fat
                 capons
                 shak't
                 their
                 tails
                 at
                 's
                 in
                 defiance
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Turkey
                 toombs
                 such
                 honourable
                 monuments
                 ?
              
               
                 Shall
                 Piggs
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 that
                 the
                 Parsons
                 self
                 would
                 envy
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 dainty
                 Ducks
                 ?
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 a
                 word
                 more
                 ,
                 obey
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               Exit
               Ger.
               
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 then
                 come
                 dole●ul
                 death
                 ,
                 this
                 is
                 flat
                 tyranny
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 by
                 this
                 hand
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 go
                 sleep
                 upon
                 't
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   Hig.
                   
                
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 and
                 there
                 be
                 a
                 wedding
                 ,
                 and
                 we
                 wanting
                 ,
              
               
                 Farewel
                 our
                 happy
                 days
                 :
                 we
                 do
                 obey
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               Exeunt
               .
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Quinta
               .
            
             
               Enter
               two
               young
               Merchants
               .
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 met
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 you
                 are
                 for
                 this
                 lusty
                 wedding
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 so
                 ,
                 so
                 are
                 you
                 ,
                 I
                 take
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 it
                 much
                 glads
                 me
                 that
                 to
                 do
                 him
                 service
              
               
                 Who
                 is
                 the
                 honour
                 of
                 our
                 trade
                 and
                 lu●●er
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 meet
                 thus
                 happily
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 's
                 a
                 noble
                 fellow
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 well
                 becomes
                 a
                 bride
                 of
                 such
                 a
                 beauty
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 is
                 passing
                 fair
                 indeed
                 ;
                 long
                 may
                 their
                 loves
              
               
                 Continue
                 like
                 their
                 youths
                 ,
                 in
                 spring
                 of
                 sweetness
                 ;
              
               
                 All
                 the
                 young
                 Merchants
                 wi●l
                 be
                 here
              
               
                 No
                 doubt
                 on
                 't
                 ;
              
               
               
                 For
                 he
                 that
                 comes
                 not
                 ●o
                 attend
                 this
                 wedding
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 curse
                 o●
                 a
                 most
                 b●ind
                 one
                 fall
                 upon
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 loud
                 wife
                 and
                 a
                 lazy
                 :
                 here
                 's
                 Vanlock
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Vanlock
               and
               Frances
               .
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 overtaken
                 Gent●emen
                 ,
                 save
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 same
                 to
                 you
                 Sir
                 :
                 save
                 ye
                 ,
                 fair
                 Mistress
                 Frances
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 would
                 this
                 happy
                 night
                 might
                 make
                 you
                 blush
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Vanl.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 dreams
                 ap●ce
              
            
             
               
                 Fran.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 's
                 but
                 a
                 drowsie
                 fortun●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 take
                 us
                 with
                 ye
                 too
                 ,
                 w●
                 come
                 to
                 that
                 end
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 sure
                 ye
                 are
                 for
                 the
                 wedding
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Vanl.
                 
              
               
                 Hand
                 and
                 heart
                 man
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 what
                 their
                 fe●t
                 can
                 do
                 ;
                 I
                 c●uld
                 have
                 tript
                 it
              
               
                 Before
                 this
                 whorson
                 gou●
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Bless
                 ye
                 Masters
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Vanl.
                 
              
               
                 Clause
                 ?
                 how
                 now
                 Clause
                 ,
                 thou
                 art
                 come
                 ●o
                 see
                 thy
                 Master
                 ,
              
               
                 (
                 And
                 a
                 good
                 Master
                 he
                 is
                 to
                 all
                 poor
                 people
                 )
              
               
                 In
                 all
                 his
                 joy
                 ;
                 't
                 is
                 honestly
                 don●
                 of
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Long
                 may
                 he
                 live
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ;
                 but
                 my
                 business
                 now
                 is
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 would
                 please
                 to
                 do
                 it
                 ,
                 and
                 to
                 hi●
                 too
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Florez
               .
            
             
               
                 Vanl.
                 
              
               
                 He
                 's
                 here
                 himself
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Stand
                 at
                 the
                 door
                 my
                 friends
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 pray
                 walk
                 in
                 :
                 welcome
                 fair
                 Mistress
                 Frances
                 ,
              
               
                 See
                 what
                 the
                 house
                 affords
                 ,
                 there
                 's
                 a
                 young
                 Lady
              
               
                 Will
                 bid
                 you
                 welcome
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Vanl.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 joy
                 your
                 happiness
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 hope
                 it
                 will
                 be
                 so
                 .
                 Clause
                 n●bly
                 welcome
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 honest
                 my
                 best
                 friend
                 ,
                 I
                 have
                 been
                 careful
              
               
                 To
                 see
                 thy
                 moneys
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 that
                 brought
                 not
                 me
                 ;
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 know
                 this
                 Ring
                 again
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 hadst
                 it
                 of
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 do
                 you
                 well
                 remember
                 yet
                 the
                 boon
                 you
                 gave
                 me
                 ▪
              
               
                 Upon
                 the
                 return
                 of
                 this
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 grant
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 Be
                 it
                 what
                 it
                 will
                 ;
                 a●k
                 what
                 thou
                 canst
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 do
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 Within
                 my
                 power
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Ye
                 are
                 not
                 married
                 yet
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Faith
                 I
                 shall
                 ask
                 you
                 that
                 that
                 will
                 distu●b
                 ye
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 I
                 must
                 put
                 ye
                 to
                 your
                 promise
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 if
                 I
                 faint
                 and
                 flinch
                 in
                 't
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Well
                 said
                 Master
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 yet
                 it
                 grieves
                 me
                 to
                 ,
                 and
                 yet
                 it
                 must
                 be
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Pre●hee
                 distrust
                 me
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 must
                 not
                 marry
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 's
                 part
                 of
                 the
                 power
                 you
                 gave
                 me
                 ;
                 which
                 to
                 make
                 up
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 must
                 presently
                 depart
                 and
                 follow
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 marry
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 if
                 you
                 keep
                 your
                 promise
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 give
                 me
                 power
                 to
                 ask
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Pre●hee
                 think
                 better
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 obey
                 by
                 heaven
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 thought
                 the
                 best
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 thy
                 reason
                 ;
                 dost
                 thou
                 fear
                 her
                 ●onesty
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Chaste
                 as
                 the
                 yce
                 ,
                 for
                 any
                 thing
                 I
                 know
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 shouldst
                 thou
                 light
                 on
                 that
                 then
                 ?
                 to
                 what
                 purpose
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 not
                 now
                 discover
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Must
                 not
                 marry
                 ?
              
               
                 Shall
                 I
                 break
                 now
                 ,
                 when
                 my
                 poor
                 heart
                 is
                 pawn'd
                 ?
              
               
                 When
                 all
                 the
                 preparation
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 or
                 never
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 not
                 that
                 thou
                 would'st
                 ;
                 thou
                 dost
                 but
                 fright
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Upon
                 my
                 sou●
                 it
                 is
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 I
                 bind
                 ye
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Clause
                 ,
                 canst
                 thou
                 be
                 so
                 cruel
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 break
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 never
                 more
                 in
                 my
                 thoughts
                 appear
                 honest
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Di●'st
                 ever
                 see
                 her
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 is
                 such
                 a
                 thing
                 ,
              
               
                 O
                 Clause
                 ,
                 she
                 is
                 such
                 a
                 wonder
                 ,
                 such
                 a
                 mirror
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 beauty
                 ▪
                 and
                 fair
                 virtue
                 ,
                 Europe
                 has
                 not
                 :
              
               
                 Why
                 hast
                 thou
                 made
                 me
                 happy
                 to
                 undo
                 me
                 ?
              
               
                 But
                 look
                 upon
                 her
                 ,
                 then
                 if
                 thy
                 heart
                 relent
                 not
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 quit
                 her
                 presently
                 ;
                 who
                 waits
                 there
                 ?
              
               
                 Servant
                 within
                 .
              
               
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Bid
                 my
                 fair
                 love
                 come
                 hither
                 ,
                 and
                 the
                 company
                 ;
              
               
                 Prethee
                 be
                 good
                 unto
                 me
                 ;
                 take
                 a
                 mans
                 heart
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 look
                 upon
                 her
                 truly
                 ;
                 take
                 a
                 friends
                 heart
                 ▪
              
               
               
                 And
                 feel
                 what
                 miserie
                 must
                 follow
                 this
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Take
                 you
                 a
                 noble
                 heart
                 and
                 keep
                 your
                 promise
                 :
              
               
                 I
                 forsook
                 all
                 I
                 had
                 to
                 make
                 you
                 happy
                 .
              
               
                 Enter
                 Bertha
                 ,
                 Van-donk
                 ,
                 and
                 the
                 rest
                 Merchants
                 .
              
               
                 Can
                 that
                 thing
                 call'd
                 a
                 woman
                 stop
                 your
                 godness
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Look
                 there
                 she
                 is
                 ,
                 d●●l
                 with
                 me
                 as
                 thou
                 wilt
                 now
              
               
                 Didst
                 ever
                 see
                 a
                 fairer
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 is
                 most
                 goodly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Pray
                 ye
                 stand
                 still
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ailes
                 my
                 love
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Didst
                 thou
                 ever
                 ,
              
               
                 By
                 the
                 fair
                 light
                 of
                 heaven
                 ,
                 behold
                 a
                 sweeter
                 ?
              
               
                 O
                 that
                 thou
                 knew'st
                 but
                 love
                 ,
                 or
                 ever
                 selt
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Look
                 well
                 ,
                 look
                 narrowlie
                 upon
                 her
                 beauti●s
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 1.
                 
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 Sure
                 h
                 'as
                 so●e
                 strange
                 in
                 hand
                 ,
                 he
                 star●s
                 so
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 2.
                 
                 Mer.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 Beggar
                 has
                 a
                 strong
                 power
                 over
                 his
                 pleasure
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 View
                 all
                 her
                 bodie
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 exact
                 and
                 excellent
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 she
                 a
                 thing
                 then
                 to
                 be
                 lost
                 thus
                 lightly
                 ?
              
               
                 Her
                 mind
                 is
                 ten
                 times
                 sweeter
                 ,
                 ten
                 times
                 nobler
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 but
                 to
                 hear
                 her
                 speak
                 ,
                 a
                 Paradise
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 such
                 a
                 love
                 she
                 bears
                 to
                 me
                 ,
                 a
                 chaste
                 love
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 vertu●us
                 ,
                 fair
                 ,
                 and
                 fruitfullove
                 :
                 't
                 is
                 now
                 too
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 readie
                 to
                 enjoy
                 it
                 ;
                 the
                 Priest
                 readie
                 ,
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 say
                 the
                 holy
                 words
                 shall
                 make
                 us
                 happie
                 ,
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 a
                 crueltie
                 beyond
                 mans
                 studie
                 ,
              
               
                 All
                 these
                 are
                 readie
                 ,
                 all
                 our
                 joyes
                 are
                 readie
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 the
                 expectation
                 of
                 our
                 friends
              
               
                 'T
                 will
                 be
                 her
                 death
                 to
                 do
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Let
                 her
                 die
                 then
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 canst
                 not
                 :
                 't
                 is
                 impossible
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 must
                 be
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 'Till
                 kill
                 me
                 too
                 ,
                 '
                 ●will
                 murder
                 me
                 by
                 heaven
                 ,
                 Clause
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 give
                 thee
                 halfe
                 I
                 have
                 ;
                 come
                 thou
                 shalt
                 save
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Then
                 you
                 must
                 go
                 with
                 me
                 :
                 I
                 can
                 stay
                 no
                 longer
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 ye
                 be
                 true
                 and
                 noble
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Hard
                 heart
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 follow
                 :
              
               
                 Pray
                 ye
                 all
                 go
                 in
                 again
                 ,
                 and
                 pray
                 be
                 merrie
                 .
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 a
                 weighty
                 businesse
                 ,
                 give
                 my
                 cloake
                 there
                 ,
              
               
                 Enter
                 Servant
                 (
                 with
                 a
                 Cloake
                 .
                 )
              
               
                 Concerns
                 my
                 life
                 ,
                 and
                 state
                 ;
                 make
                 no
                 enquiry
                 ,
              
               
                 This
                 present
                 hour
                 befaln
                 me
                 ▪
                 with
                 the
                 soonest
              
               
                 I
                 shall
                 be
                 here
                 again
                 :
                 nay
                 pray
                 go
                 in
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 take
                 them
                 with
                 you
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 a
                 night
                 lost
                 Gentlemen
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 ,
                 come
                 in
                 ,
                 we
                 will
                 not
                 lose
                 our
                 meat
                 yet
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 our
                 good
                 mirth
                 ,
                 he
                 cannot
                 stay
                 long
                 from
                 her
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 sure
                 of
                 that
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 will
                 no●
                 stay
                 ;
                 believe
                 Sir
                 ,
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Gertrude
                 .
              
               
                 a
                 word
                 with
                 you
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 is
                 this
                 stop
                 Sir
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 no
                 more
                 time
                 left
                 me
                 ,
                 but
                 to
                 kisse
                 thee
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 tell
                 thee
                 ,
                 this
                 ,
                 I
                 am
                 ever
                 thine
                 :
                 farewell
                 wench
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 is
                 that
                 all
                 your
                 ceremonie
                 ?
                 Is
                 this
                 a
                 wedding
                 ?
              
               
                 Are
                 all
                 my
                 ho●es
                 and
                 prayers
                 turnd
                 to
                 nothing
                 ?
              
               
                 Well
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 say
                 no
                 more
                 ,
                 nor
                 sigh
                 ,
                 nor
                 sorrow
                 ;
                 oh
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Til
                 to
                 thy
                 face
                 I
                 prove
                 thee
                 false
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
          
        
         
           
             Actus
             Quintus
             ,
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Prima
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Bertha
               ,
               and
               a
               Boore
               .
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 LEad
                 ,
                 if
                 thou
                 thinkst
                 we
                 are
                 right
                 ,
                 why
                 dost
                 thou
                 make
              
               
                 These
                 often
                 stands
                 ?
                 thou
                 saidst
                 thou
                 knewst
                 the
                 way
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Fear
                 nothing
                 ,
                 I
                 do
                 know
                 it
                 :
                 would
                 `twere
                 homeward
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Wrought
                 from
                 me
                 ,
                 by
                 a
                 Begg●r
                 ?
                 at
                 the
                 time
              
               
                 That
                 most
                 should
                 tie
                 him
                 ?
                 'T
                 is
                 some
                 other
                 Love
              
               
                 That
                 hath
                 a
                 more
                 command
                 on
                 his
                 affections
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 he
                 that
                 fetcht
                 him
                 ,
                 a
                 disguised
                 Agent
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 what
                 he
                 personated
                 ;
                 for
                 his
                 fashion
              
               
                 Was
                 more
                 familiar
                 with
                 him
                 ,
                 and
                 more
                 powerfull
              
               
                 Then
                 one
                 that
                 ask'd
                 an
                 almes
                 :
                 I
                 must
                 finde
                 out
              
               
               
                 One
                 ,
                 if
                 not
                 both●
                 kind
                 darkness
                 be
                 my
                 shrowd
              
               
                 And
                 cover
                 loves
                 too
                 curious
                 search
                 in
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 yet
                 ,
                 suspition
                 ,
                 I
                 would
                 not
                 name
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Mistris
                 ,
                 it
                 grows
                 some-what
                 pretty
                 and
                 dark
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 then
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Nay
                 ,
                 nothing
                 ;
                 do
                 not
                 think
                 I
                 am
                 afraid
                 ,
              
               
                 Although
                 perhaps
                 you
                 are
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 not
                 ,
                 forward
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Sure
                 but
                 you
                 are
                 :
                 give
                 me
                 your
                 hand
                 ,
                 fear
                 nothing
                 .
              
               
                 There
                 's
                 one
                 leg
                 in
                 the
                 wood
                 ,
                 do
                 not
                 pull
                 backward
                 :
              
               
                 What
                 a
                 sweat
                 one
                 on
                 's
                 are
                 in
                 ,
                 you
                 or
                 I
                 ?
              
               
                 Pray
                 God
                 it
                 do
                 not
                 prove
                 the
                 plague
                 ;
                 yet
                 sure
              
               
                 It
                 has
                 infected
                 me
                 ;
                 for
                 I
                 sweat
                 too
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 runs
                 out
                 at
                 my
                 knees
                 ,
                 feel
                 ,
                 feel
                 ,
                 I
                 pray
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 ailes
                 the
                 f●llow
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Hark
                 ,
                 hark
                 I
                 beseech
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 hear
                 nothing
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 No.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 List
                 :
                 a
                 wild
                 hog
                 ,
              
               
                 He
                 grunts
                 :
                 now
                 't
                 is
                 a
                 beare
                 :
                 this
                 wood
                 is
                 full
                 of
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
               
                 And
                 now
                 ,
                 a
                 wolfe
                 Mistris
                 ,
                 a
                 wolfe
                 ,
                 a
                 wolfe
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 is
                 the
                 howling
                 of
                 a
                 wolfe
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 braying
                 of
                 an
                 asse
                 ;
                 is
                 it
                 not
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Oh
                 ,
                 ●ow
                 one
                 has
                 me
                 ;
              
               
                 Oh
                 ▪
                 my
                 left
                 ham
                 ,
                 far●well
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Look
                 to
                 your
                 shanks
                 ,
              
               
                 Your
                 breech
                 is
                 safe
                 enough
                 ,
                 the
                 wolfe
                 's
                 a
                 Fernbr●●e
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 see
                 ,
                 see
                 ▪
                 see
                 .
                 There
                 is
                 a
                 Serpent
                 in
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 has
                 eyes
                 as
                 broad
                 as
                 platters
                 ;
                 it
                 spits
                 fire
                 ;
              
               
                 Now
                 it
                 creeps
                 towards
                 us
                 ,
                 help
                 me
                 to
                 say
                 my
                 prayers
                 ▪
              
               
                 It
                 has
                 swallowed
                 me
                 almost
                 ,
                 my
                 breath
                 is
                 stopt
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 cannot
                 speak
                 ;
                 do
                 I
                 speak
                 Mistris
                 ?
                 tell
                 me
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Why
                 ,
                 thou
                 timerous
                 Sot
                 ,
                 canst
                 thou
                 perceive
              
               
                 Any
                 thing
                 i'
                 the
                 bush
                 ,
                 but
                 a
                 poor
                 glo-worme
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 may
                 be
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 a
                 glo-worm
                 now
                 ,
                 but
                 't
                 will
              
               
                 Grow
                 to
                 a
                 fire-drake
                 presently
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Come
                 thou
                 from
                 it
                 :
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 a
                 precious
                 guide
                 of
                 you
                 ;
                 and
                 a
                 courteous
              
               
                 That
                 gives
                 me
                 leave
                 to
                 lead
                 my selfe
                 the
                 way
                 thus
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 thunders
                 ,
                 you
                 hear
                 that
                 now
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 hear
                 one
                 hollow
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 thunder
                 ,
                 thunder
                 :
              
               
                 See
                 ,
                 a
                 flash
                 of
                 Lightning
                 ,
              
               
                 Are
                 you
                 not
                 blasted
                 Mistris
                 ?
                 pull
                 your
                 mas●
                 off
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 has
                 plaid
                 the
                 barber
                 with
                 me
                 here
                 :
                 I
                 have
                 lost
              
               
                 My
                 beard
                 ,
                 my
                 beard
                 ,
                 pray
                 God
                 you
                 be
                 not
                 shaven
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 will
                 spoile
                 your
                 marriage
                 ,
                 Mistris
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 strange
                 wonders
              
               
                 Fear
                 fancies
                 in
                 a
                 Coward
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Now
                 the
                 earth
                 opens
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Prethee
                 hold
                 thy
                 peace
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Will
                 you
                 on
                 then
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Both
                 love
                 and
                 jealousie
                 have
                 made
                 me
                 bold
                 ,
              
               
                 Where
                 my
                 fate
                 leads
                 me
                 ,
                 I
                 must
                 go
                 .
                 
                   Exit
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 God
                 be
                 with
                 you
                 then
                 .
              
            
             
               Enter
               Woolfort
               ,
               Hemskirk
               ,
               and
               Attendants
               .
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 was
                 the
                 fellow
                 sure
                 ,
                 he
                 that
                 should
                 guide
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 hunts-man
                 that
                 did
                 hollow
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Best
                 make
                 a
                 ●●and
              
               
                 And
                 listen
                 to
                 his
                 next
                 :
                 ha
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 goes
                 there
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Mistris
                 ,
                 I
                 am
                 taken
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Mistris
                 ?
                 look
                 forth
                 souldiers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 are
                 you
                 si●●ah
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Truly
                 all
                 is
                 left
              
               
                 Of
                 a
                 poor
                 Boor
                 ,
                 by
                 day-light
                 ,
                 by
                 night
                 no
                 body
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 might
                 have
                 spar'd
                 your
                 drum
                 ,
                 and
                 guns
                 ,
                 and
                 pikes
                 too
              
               
                 For
                 I
                 am
                 none
                 that
                 will
                 stand
                 out
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I.
              
               
                 You
                 may
                 take
                 me
                 in
                 with
                 a
                 walking
                 stick
              
               
                 Even
                 when
                 you
                 please
                 ,
                 and
                 hold
                 me
                 with
                 a
                 pack-threed
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 What
                 woman
                 was
                 't
                 you
                 call'd
                 to
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Woman
                 ?
                 none
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 None
                 ?
                 did
                 you
                 no●
                 name
                 Mistris
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 but
                 shee
                 's
              
               
                 No
                 woman
                 yet
                 ●
                 she
                 should
                 have
                 been
                 this
                 night
                 .
              
               
                 But
                 that
                 a
                 Beggar
                 stole
                 away
                 her
                 Bridegroom
                 .
              
               
                 Whom
                 we
                 were
                 going
                 to
                 make
                 hu●-and-cry
                 after
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 tell
                 you
                 true
                 Sir
                 ,
                 she
                 should
                 ●a'bin
                 ma●r●ed
                 to
                 day
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 was
                 the
                 Bride
                 ,
                 and
                 all
                 ;
                 but
                 in
                 came
                 Clause
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 old
                 lame
                 Beggar
                 ,
                 and
                 whipt
                 up
                 Mr.
                 Goswin
                 ;
              
               
               
                 Under
                 his
                 arm
                 ,
                 away
                 with
                 him
                 as
                 a
                 Kite
                 ,
              
               
                 O●
                 an
                 old
                 Fox
                 ,
                 would
                 swoop
                 away
                 a
                 gossi●g
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 shee
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 she
                 ,
                 Niece
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 Ha!
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 She
                 Sir.
              
               
                 This
                 wa●
                 a
                 noble
                 entrance
                 to
                 your
                 fortune
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 being
                 on
                 the
                 point
                 thus
                 to
                 be
                 married
                 ,
              
               
                 Upon
                 her
                 venture
                 here
                 ,
                 you
                 should
                 surprise
                 her
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 begin
                 Hemskirk
                 ,
                 to
                 believe
                 my
                 fate
              
               
                 Works
                 to
                 my
                 ends
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 Sir
                 ▪
                 and
                 this
                 addes
                 trust
              
               
                 Unto
                 the
                 fellow
                 our
                 guide
                 ,
                 who
                 assur'd
                 me
                 Florez
              
               
                 Liv'd
                 in
                 some
                 Merchants
                 shop
                 ,
                 as
                 Gerrard
                 did
              
               
                 I'
                 th
                 the
                 old
                 beggars
                 ,
                 and
                 that
                 he
                 would
                 use
              
               
                 Him
                 for
                 the
                 train
                 ,
                 to
                 call
                 the
                 other
                 forth
                 ,
              
               
                 All
                 which
                 we
                 find
                 is
                 ●one
                 —
                 That
                 's
                 he
                 again
                 —
                 
                   Holla
                   again
                
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Good
                 we
                 sent
                 out
                 to
                 meet
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Here
                 's
                 the
                 Oake
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 B●r.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 I
                 am
                 miserably
                 lost
                 ,
                 thus
                 falne
              
               
                 Into
                 my
                 Uncles
                 hands
                 ,
                 from
                 all
                 my
                 hopes
                 :
              
               
                 Can
                 I
                 not
                 think
                 away
                 my self
                 and
                 dye
                 ?
              
               
                 O
                 I
                 am
                 miserably
                 lost
                 ,
                 thus
                 fallen
              
               
                 Into
                 my
                 Uncles
                 hands
                 ,
                 from
                 all
                 my
                 hop●s
                 :
              
               
                 No
                 matter
                 now
                 ,
                 where
                 thou
                 be
                 false
                 or
                 no
                 ,
              
               
                 Goswin
                 ,
                 whether
                 thou
                 love
                 another
                 better
                 ,
              
               
                 Or
                 me
                 alone
                 ;
                 or
                 where
                 thou
                 keep
                 thy
                 vow
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 word
                 ,
                 or
                 that
                 thou
                 come
                 ,
                 or
                 stay
                 ;
                 for
                 I
              
               
                 To
                 thee
                 from
                 henceforth
                 must
                 be
                 ever
                 absent
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 thou
                 to
                 me
                 :
                 no
                 more
                 shall
                 we
                 come
                 near
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 tell
                 our selves
                 ,
                 how
                 bright
                 each
                 others
                 eyes
                 were
                 ,
              
               
                 How
                 soft
                 our
                 language
                 ,
                 and
                 how
                 sweet
                 our
                 kisses
                 ,
              
               
                 Whilst
                 we
                 made
                 one
                 our
                 food
                 ,
                 th'
                 other
                 our
                 feast
                 ,
              
               
                 Not
                 mix
                 our
                 soules
                 by
                 sight
                 ,
                 or
                 by
                 a
                 letter
              
               
                 Hereafter
                 ,
                 but
                 as
                 small
                 relation
                 have
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 two
                 new
                 gon
                 to
                 inhabiting
                 a
                 grave
                 :
              
               
                 Can
                 I
                 not
                 think
                 away
                 my self
                 and
                 die
                 ?
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               ,
               Higgen
               ,
               Prig
               ,
               Ferret
               ,
               Snap
               ,
               Gincks
               ,
               like
               Boores.
               
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 like
                 your
                 habits
                 well
                 :
                 they
                 are
                 safe
                 ,
                 stand
                 close
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 what
                 's
                 the
                 action
                 we
                 are
                 for
                 now
                 ?
                 ha
                 ?
              
               
                 Robbing
                 a
                 Ripper
                 of
                 his
                 fish
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 taking
              
               
                 A
                 poultrer
                 prisoner
                 ,
                 without
                 ransome
                 ,
                 Bullye●
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 cutting
                 off
                 a
                 convoy
                 of
                 bu●ter
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 surprising
                 a
                 Boors
                 ken
                 ,
                 for
                 granting
                 cheats
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 cackling
                 cheats
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Or
                 merge●y-praters
                 ,
                 Rogers
                 ▪
              
               
                 And
                 Tibs
                 o'
                 th
                 the
                 Bu●te●y
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 O'
                 I
                 could
                 drive
                 a
                 Regiment
              
               
                 Of
                 geese
                 afore
                 me
                 ,
                 such
                 a
                 night
                 as
                 this
                 ,
              
               
                 Ten
                 leagues
                 with
                 my
                 hatt
                 ,
                 and
                 staffe
                 ,
                 and
                 not
                 of
                 hiss
              
               
                 Heard
                 ,
                 or
                 a
                 wing
                 of
                 my
                 troops
                 disordered
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Tell
                 us
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 it
                 be
                 milling
                 of
                 a
                 lag
                 of
                 duds
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 fetching
                 of
                 a
                 back
                 of
                 clothes
                 ,
                 or
                 so
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 are
                 horribly
                 out
                 of
                 linnen
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 such
                 matter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Let
                 me
                 alone
                 for
                 any
                 Farmers
                 dog
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 have
                 a
                 minde
                 to
                 the
                 cheese-loft
                 :
                 't
                 is
                 but
                 thus
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 he
                 is
                 a
                 silenc'd
                 Mast●ff
                 ,
                 during
                 pleasure
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Would
                 it
                 would
                 please
                 you
                 to
                 be
                 silent
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Mum.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 's
                 there
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 friend
                 ,
                 the
                 Huntsman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 't
                 is
                 he
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 kept
                 touch
                 Sir
                 ,
                 which
                 is
                 the
                 Earl
                 of
                 these
                 ?
              
               
                 Will
                 ye
                 know
                 a
                 man
                 now
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 This
                 my
                 Lord
                 's
                 the
                 friend
              
               
                 Hath
                 undertook
                 the
                 service
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I●'t
                 be
                 worth
              
               
                 His
                 Lordships
                 thanks
                 anon
                 ,
                 when
                 't
                 is
                 done
              
               
                 Lording
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 look
                 for
                 't
                 ,
                 a
                 rude
                 woodman
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 how
                 to
                 pitch
                 my
                 toyles
                 ,
                 drive
                 in
                 my
                 game
                 ▪
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 have
                 don
                 't
                 ,
                 both
                 Florez
                 and
                 his
                 Father
              
               
                 Old
                 Gerrard
                 ,
                 with
                 Lord
                 Arnold
                 of
                 Benthuisen
                 ;
              
               
                 Cozen
                 ,
                 and
                 Iaqueline
                 ,
                 young
                 Florez
                 Sister
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 have
                 'em
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Thou
                 sp●akst
                 too
                 much
                 ,
                 too
                 happy
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 carry
                 faith
                 with
                 it
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 can
                 bring
                 you
              
               
                 Where
                 you
                 shall
                 see
                 ,
                 and
                 find
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 will
                 double
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 ever
                 Hemskirk
                 then
                 hath
                 promised
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 'le
                 deserve
                 it
                 treble
                 ;
                 what
                 horse
                 ha'
                 you
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 hundred
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 That
                 's
                 well
                 :
                 ready
                 to
                 take
              
               
                 Upon
                 surprise
                 of
                 '
                 em
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 .
              
            
             
               
               
                 Hub
                 
              
               
                 〈◊〉
                 ●hen
                 ,
              
               
                 Your
                 force
                 in●o
                 five
                 Squadrons
                 ,
                 for
                 there
                 are
              
               
                 So
                 m●ny
                 out-●ets
                 w●yes
                 through
                 the
                 wood
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 issue
                 from
                 the
                 place
                 whe●e
                 they
                 are
                 lodg'd
                 ;
              
               
                 Five
                 severall
                 wayes
                 ,
                 of
                 all
                 which
                 p●ssag●s
              
               
                 We
                 must
                 possess
                 our selves
                 ,
                 to
                 round
                 '
                 ●m
                 in
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 by
                 one
                 starting
                 hole
                 ,
                 they'●l
                 all
                 escape
                 e●se
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 and
                 four
                 B●ors
                 here
                 ,
                 to
                 ye
                 will
                 be
                 guides
                 .
              
               
                 The
                 Squadron
                 where
                 you
                 are
                 ,
                 my
                 sel●
                 will
                 ●●ad
                 .
              
               
                 And
                 that
                 they
                 may
                 be
                 more
                 s●cure
                 ,
                 I
                 'le
                 use
              
               
                 My
                 wonted
                 whoops
                 ,
                 and
                 hollowes
                 ,
                 as
                 I
                 were
              
               
                 A
                 hunting
                 for
                 'm
                 ;
                 which
                 will
                 make
                 them
                 rest
                 ,
              
               
                 Careless
                 of
                 any
                 noyse
                 ,
                 and
                 b●
                 a
                 direction
              
               
                 To
                 the
                 other
                 guides
                 ●ow
                 w●
                 approach
                 ●m
                 stil●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 ordered
                 well
                 ,
                 and
                 relisheth
                 the
                 Souldie●
                 .
              
               
                 Make
                 the
                 division
                 Hemskirk
                 :
                 you
                 are
                 my
                 charge
                 ,
              
               
                 Fair
                 one
                 ,
                 I'●e
                 look
                 to
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Boor.
                 
              
               
                 Shall
                 no
                 body
                 need
              
               
                 To
                 look
                 to
                 me
                 ?
                 I
                 'le
                 look
                 unto
                 my self
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 but
                 this
                 ,
                 r●member
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Say
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 done
                 boy
                 ,
                 
                   Ex●unt
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Scaena
               Secunda
               .
            
             
               Enter
               Gerrard
               and
               Florez
               .
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 By
                 this
                 ●ime
                 ;
                 Sir
                 ,
                 I
                 hope
                 you
                 want
                 no
                 reasons
              
               
                 Why
                 I
                 broke
                 off
                 your
                 marriage
                 ,
                 for
                 though
                 I
              
               
                 Should
                 as
                 a
                 Subject
                 study
                 you
                 my
                 Prince
              
               
                 In
                 things
                 indifferent
                 ,
                 it
                 will
                 not
                 therefore
              
               
                 Discredit
                 you
                 ,
                 to
                 acknowledge
                 me
                 your
                 Father
                 ,
              
               
                 By
                 harkening
                 to
                 my
                 necessary
                 counsells
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Acknowledge
                 you
                 my
                 Father
                 ?
                 Sir
                 I
                 do
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 may
                 impiety
                 ,
                 conspiring
                 with
              
               
                 My
                 other
                 Sins
                 ,
                 sink
                 me
                 ,
                 and
                 suddainly
              
               
                 When
                 I
                 forget
                 to
                 pay
                 you
                 a
                 Sons
                 duty
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 my
                 obedience
                 ,
                 and
                 that
                 help'd
                 sorth
              
               
                 With
                 all
                 the
                 cheerfulness
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 pray
                 you
                 rise
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 may
                 those
                 powers
                 that
                 see
                 and
                 love
                 this
                 in
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Reward
                 you
                 for
                 it
                 :
                 Taught
                 by
                 your
                 example
              
               
                 Having
                 received
                 the
                 rights
                 due
                 to
                 a
                 Father
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 tender
                 you
                 th'
                 allegiance
                 of
                 a
                 Subject
                 :
              
               
                 Wh●ch
                 as
                 my
                 P●ince
                 acc●pt
                 of
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Kneel
                 to
                 me
                 ?
              
               
                 M●y
                 m●untains
                 fi●st
                 fall
                 down
                 benea●h
                 ●h●ir
                 valleys
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 fi●e
                 no
                 more
                 mount
                 upwards
                 ,
                 when
                 I
                 suff●r
              
               
                 An
                 act
                 in
                 nature
                 so
                 pr●posterous
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 must
                 o'recome
                 in
                 this
                 ,
                 in
                 all
                 things
                 else
              
               
                 The
                 victory
                 be
                 yours
                 t
                 could
                 you
                 here
                 read
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 should
                 perceive
                 how
                 all
                 my
                 faculties
              
               
                 Triump●
                 in
                 my
                 blest
                 fate
                 ,
                 to
                 be
                 found
                 yours
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 your
                 s●n
                 ,
                 your
                 Son
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 am
                 prouder
              
               
                 To
                 be
                 s●
                 ,
                 to
                 the
                 ●ather
                 to
                 such
                 goodnesse
              
               
                 (
                 Which
                 heaven
                 be
                 pleas'd
                 ,
                 I
                 may
                 inherit
                 from
                 you
                 )
              
               
                 Then
                 I
                 shall
                 ever
                 o●
                 those
                 speci●ll
                 titles
              
               
                 That
                 plead
                 for
                 my
                 succ●ssion
                 in
                 the
                 Earldome
              
               
                 (
                 Did
                 I
                 p●ssess
                 it
                 now
                 )
                 l●ft
                 by
                 my
                 mother
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 do
                 believe
                 it
                 :
                 but
                 —
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 my
                 lov'd
                 Father
                 ,
              
               
                 B●fore
                 I
                 knew
                 you
                 were
                 so
                 ,
                 by
                 instinct
                 ,
              
               
                 N●ture
                 had
                 taught
                 me
                 ,
                 to
                 look
                 on
                 your
                 wan●s
                 ,
              
               
                 N●t
                 as
                 a
                 strange●s
                 :
                 and
                 I
                 know
                 not
                 how
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 you
                 call'd
                 ch●ritie
                 I
                 thought
                 the
                 paiment
              
               
                 Of
                 some
                 religious
                 debt
                 nature
                 stood
                 bound
                 for
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 last
                 of
                 all
                 ,
                 when
                 your
                 magnificent
                 bounty
                 ,
              
               
                 In
                 my
                 low
                 ebb
                 of
                 fortune
                 ,
                 had
                 brought
                 in
              
               
                 A
                 flood
                 of
                 blessings
                 ,
                 though
                 my
                 threatning
                 wan●s
              
               
                 And
                 fear
                 of
                 their
                 ●ff●cts
                 ,
                 still
                 kept
                 me
                 stupid
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 soon
                 found
                 out
                 ,
                 it
                 was
                 no
                 common
                 pittie
              
               
                 That
                 lead
                 you
                 to
                 i●
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Think
                 of
                 this
                 hereafter
              
               
                 When
                 we
                 wi●h
                 joy
                 may
                 call
                 it
                 to
                 remembrance
                 ,
              
               
                 There
                 will
                 be
                 a
                 time
                 more
                 opportune
                 ,
                 then
                 now
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 end
                 your
                 storie
                 ,
                 with
                 all
                 circumstances
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 adde
                 this
                 onely
                 :
                 when
                 we
                 fled
                 from
                 Woolfort
              
               
                 I
                 sent
                 you
                 into
                 England
                 ,
                 and
                 there
                 placed
                 you
              
               
                 With
                 a
                 brave
                 Flanders
                 Merchant
                 ,
                 call'd
                 rich
                 Goswin
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 man
                 supplyed
                 by
                 me
                 unto
                 that
                 purpose
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 bound
                 by
                 oath
                 never
                 to
                 discover
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Who
                 dying
                 left
                 his
                 name
                 and
                 wealth
                 unto
                 you
              
               
                 As
                 his
                 reputed
                 Son
                 ,
                 and
                 yet
                 received
                 so
                 ;
              
               
                 But
                 now
                 ,
                 as
                 Florez
                 and
                 ●
                 Prince
                 ,
                 remember
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 countries
                 ▪
                 and
                 the
                 subjects
                 generall
                 good
              
               
                 Must
                 challenge
                 the
                 first
                 part
                 in
                 your
                 affec●ion
                 :
              
               
                 The
                 fair
                 maid
                 ,
                 whom
                 you
                 chose
                 to
                 be
                 your
                 wife
                 ,
              
               
               
                 B●ing
                 so
                 far
                 be●eath
                 you
                 ,
                 tha●
                 y●ur
                 love
              
               
                 M●●t
                 gr●nt
                 ▪
                 〈◊〉
                 not
                 your
                 equall
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 In
                 disc●nt
              
               
                 Or
                 borrowed
                 glo●i●s
                 ,
                 from
                 dead
                 Ancesto●s
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 ●or
                 her
                 b●autie
                 ▪
                 chastitie
                 ,
                 an●
                 all
                 vertues
              
               
                 Ever
                 remembre●
                 in
                 the
                 best
                 of
                 women
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 M●na●ch
                 might
                 r●ceive
                 ●rom
                 h●r
                 ,
                 not
                 give
                 ,
              
               
                 Though
                 she
                 were
                 ●is
                 Crowns
                 purchase
                 ,
                 In
                 this
                 only
              
               
                 Be
                 ●n
                 indulgent
                 Father
                 :
                 in
                 a●l
                 ●lse
                 ,
              
               
                 U●e
                 my
                 authority
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 Hubert
                 ,
                 ●emskirk
                 ,
                 Woolfort
                 ,
                 Bertha
                 ,
                 and
                 Souldiers
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 S●r
                 ,
                 h●re
                 be
                 two
                 of
                 'em
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 Father
                 and
                 the
                 Sonne
                 ,
                 the
                 rest
                 you
                 shall
                 have
              
               
                 A●●ast
                 as
                 I
                 can
                 rouze
                 them
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 's
                 this
                 ?
                 Woolfort
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 criple
                 ,
                 your
                 faigned
                 cru●ches
                 will
                 not
                 he●p
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 patch'd
                 disguise
                 that
                 hath
                 so
                 long
                 conceal'd
                 you
                 ,
              
               
                 I●'s
                 now
                 no
                 halting
                 :
                 I
                 must
                 here
                 find
                 Gerrard
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 in
                 this
                 Merchants
                 h●bit
                 ,
                 one
                 called
                 Florez
              
               
                 Who
                 would
                 be
                 an
                 Earl.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 is
                 ,
                 wert
                 thou
                 a
                 subject
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Is
                 this
                 that
                 Traitor
                 Woolfort
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Wolf.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 but
                 you
              
               
                 Are
                 they
                 that
                 are
                 betraid
                 :
                 Hemskirk
                 ;
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 My
                 Goswin
              
               
                 Turn'd
                 Prince
                 ?
                 O
                 I
                 am
                 poorer
                 by
                 this
                 greatness
                 ,
              
               
                 Then
                 all
                 my
                 former
                 jealousies
                 or
                 misfortunes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Gertrude
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Stay
                 Sir
                 ,
                 you
                 were
                 to
                 day
                 too
                 near
                 her
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 must
                 no
                 more
                 ayme
                 at
                 those
                 easie
                 acce●ses
                 ,
              
               
                 Less
                 you
                 can
                 do
                 't
                 in
                 aire
                 ,
                 without
                 a
                 head
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 shall
                 be
                 sodainly
                 try'de
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ber.
                 
              
               
                 O
                 take
                 my
                 heart
                 ,
                 first
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 since
                 I
                 cannot
                 hope
                 now
                 to
                 enjoy
                 him
                 ,
              
               
                 Let
                 me
                 but
                 fall
                 a
                 part
                 of
                 his
                 glad
                 ransome
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 You
                 know
                 not
                 your
                 own
                 value
                 ,
                 that
                 entreat
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 proud
                 a
                 f●end
                 as
                 Woolfort
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 so
                 lost
              
               
                 A
                 thing
                 as
                 Florez
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 that
                 would
                 be
                 so
              
               
                 Rather
                 then
                 she
                 should
                 stoop
                 again
                 to
                 thee
                 ;
              
               
                 There
                 is
                 no
                 death
                 ,
                 but
                 's
                 sweeter
                 then
                 all
                 life
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 Woolfort
                 is
                 to
                 give
                 it
                 :
                 O
                 my
                 Gertrude
                 ,
              
               
                 It
                 is
                 n●t
                 that
                 ,
                 no
                 P●incedom
                 that
                 I
                 go
                 from
                 .
              
               
                 I●
                 is
                 from
                 thee
                 ,
                 that
                 losse
                 includeth
                 a●l
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Wool.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ,
                 if
                 my
                 young
                 prince
                 knew
                 his
                 loss
                 ,
                 he
                 would
                 say
                 so
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 that
                 he
                 yet
                 may
                 chew
                 on
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 tell
                 him
              
               
                 This
                 is
                 no
                 Gertrude
                 ,
                 nor
                 no
                 Hemskirkes
                 N●ece
                 ,
              
               
                 Nor
                 Vandoncks
                 daughter
                 ;
                 this
                 is
                 
                   Bertha
                   ,
                   B●rtha
                
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 heir
                 ●f
                 B●abant
                 ,
                 ●he
                 that
                 caus'd
                 the
                 warre
                 ,
              
               
                 Wh●m
                 I
                 did
                 steale
                 ,
                 during
                 my
                 treaty
                 there
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 your
                 minority
                 ,
                 to
                 raise
                 my selfe
                 ;
              
               
                 I
                 then
                 for●seeing
                 't
                 would
                 beget
                 a
                 quarrell
                 .
              
               
                 That
                 ,
                 a
                 necessity
                 of
                 my
                 employment
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 same
                 employment
                 ,
                 make
                 me
                 master
                 of
                 strength
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 strength
                 ,
                 the
                 Lord
                 of
                 Flanders
                 ,
                 so
                 of
                 Brabant
                 ,
              
               
                 By
                 marrying
                 her
                 ●si
                 ,
                 which
                 had
                 not
                 been
                 to
                 do
                 :
              
               
                 She
                 come
                 of
                 ye●rs
                 ,
                 but
                 that
                 the
                 expectation
              
               
                 First
                 of
                 her
                 Fathe●s
                 death
                 retarded
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 s●nce
                 the
                 standing
                 out
                 of
                 Bruges
                 ,
                 where
              
               
                 Hemskirk
                 had
                 hid
                 her
                 ,
                 till
                 she
                 was
                 n●er
                 lost
                 :
              
               
                 But
                 Sir
                 ,
                 we
                 have
                 recover'd
                 her
                 :
                 your
                 M●rchantship
              
               
                 May
                 break
                 ,
                 for
                 this
                 was
                 one
                 of
                 your
                 best
                 b●●tomes
              
               
                 I
                 think
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Insolent
                 Devill
                 !
              
            
             
               Enter
               Hubert
               ,
               with
               Iaqueline
               ,
               Gynks
               and
               Costin
               .
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 are
                 these
                 ,
                 Hemskirke
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 More
                 ,
                 more
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 they
                 triumph
                 in
                 their
                 treachery
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Lord
                 Arnold
                 of
                 Benthusin
                 ,
                 this
                 Lord
                 Costin
                 .
              
               
                 This
                 Iaqueline
                 the
                 sister
                 unto
                 Florez
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 All
                 found
                 ?
                 why
                 here
                 's
                 brave
                 game
                 ,
                 this
                 was
                 sport-royall
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 puts
                 me
                 in
                 thought
                 of
                 a
                 new
                 kind
                 of
                 death
                 for
                 '
                 em
                 .
              
               
                 Huntsman
                 ,
                 your
                 horn
                 :
                 first
                 wind
                 me
                 Florez
                 fall
                 ,
              
               
                 Next
                 Gerrards
                 ,
                 then
                 his
                 daughter
                 Iaquelins
                 ,
              
               
                 Those
                 rascals
                 ,
                 they
                 shall
                 dye
                 without
                 their
                 rights
                 :
              
               
                 Hang
                 'em
                 Hemskirk
                 on
                 these
                 trees
                 ;
                 I
                 'le
                 take
              
               
                 The
                 assay
                 of
                 these
                 my selfe
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 here
                 my
                 Lord
                 ,
              
               
               
                 Let
                 'em
                 be
                 broken
                 up
                 ,
                 up●n
                 a
                 scaffold
                 ,
              
               
                 'T
                 wil
                 shew
                 the
                 better
                 when
                 their
                 arbou●'s
                 made
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Wretch
                 art
                 thou
                 not
                 cont●nt
                 thou
                 h●st
                 betraid
                 u●
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 mock
                 us
                 too
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Gynks
                 .
              
               
                 False
                 Hubert
                 ,
                 this
                 is
                 monstrous
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Hubert
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hem.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 ,
                 this
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 this
                 is
                 
                   Hubert
                   ,
                   Woolfort
                
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 hope
                 he
                 ha's
                 helpt
                 himself
                 to
                 a
                 tree
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 first
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 first
                 of
                 any
                 ,
                 and
                 most
                 glad
                 I
                 have
                 you
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 l●t
                 you
                 go
                 before
                 ,
                 b●t
                 for
                 a
                 train
                 ;
              
               
                 I●'t
                 you
                 have
                 done
                 t●is
                 service
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 your
                 H●ntsman
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 now
                 as
                 Hubert
                 ;
                 save
                 your selves
                 ,
                 I
                 will
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 Woolf
                 's
                 a
                 foot
                 ,
                 let
                 slip
                 ,
                 kill
                 ,
                 kill
                 ,
                 kill
                 ,
                 kil●
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Enter
                 with
                 a
                 dru●
                 V●n-do●ck
                 Merchants
                 ,
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 Prig
                 ,
                 Ferret
                 ,
                 Sn●p
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Betray'd
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hub.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 but
                 well
                 catch'd
                 :
                 &
                 I
                 the
                 Huntsman
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van-d.
                 
              
               
                 How
                 do
                 you
                 Woolfort
                 ?
                 Rascall
                 ,
                 good
                 knave
                 Woolfort
                 .
              
               
                 I
                 speak
                 it
                 now
                 without
                 the
                 Rose
                 ;
                 and
                 Hemskirk
                 ,
              
               
                 Rogue
                 Hemskirk
                 ,
                 you
                 that
                 have
                 no
                 niece
                 ,
                 this
                 Lady
              
               
                 Was
                 ●tolne
                 by
                 you
                 ,
                 and
                 tane
                 by
                 you
                 ,
                 and
                 now
              
               
                 Resign'd
                 by
                 me
                 ,
                 to
                 the
                 right
                 owner
                 here
                 :
              
               
                 Take
                 her
                 my
                 P●ince
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Can
                 this
                 be
                 p●ssible
                 ,
              
               
                 Welcome
                 my
                 love
                 ,
                 my
                 ●weet
                 ,
                 my
                 worthy
                 love
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van-d.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 ha'
                 giv'n
                 you
                 her
                 twice
                 :
                 now
                 keep
                 her
                 better
                 ,
                 and
                 thank
              
               
                 Lord
                 Hubert
                 ,
                 that
                 came
                 to
                 me
                 in
                 Gerrards
                 name
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 got
                 me
                 out
                 ,
                 with
                 my
                 brave
                 boys
                 ,
                 to
                 march
              
               
                 Like
                 Caesar
                 ,
                 when
                 he
                 bred
                 his
                 Commentaries
                 ,
              
               
                 So
                 I
                 ,
                 to
                 end
                 my
                 Chronicle
                 ,
                 came
                 sorth
              
               
                 Caesar
                 Van-donck
                 ,
                 &
                 veni
                 ,
                 vidi
                 ▪
                 vici
                 ,
              
               
                 Give
                 me
                 my
                 Bottle
                 ,
                 and
                 set
                 down
                 the
                 drum
                 ;
              
               
                 You
                 had
                 your
                 tricks
                 Sir
                 ,
                 had
                 you
                 ?
                 we
                 ha'
                 tricks
                 too
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 stole
                 the
                 Lady
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 we
                 led
                 your
                 Squadrons
              
               
                 Where
                 they
                 ha'
                 scratc'ht
                 their
                 legges
                 a
                 little
                 ,
                 with
                 brambles
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 not
                 their
                 faces
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 and
                 run
                 their
                 heads
              
               
                 Against
                 ●re●s
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 Captain
                 Prig
                 ,
                 Sir.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 Coronell
                 Higgen
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 fi●l'd
                 a
                 pit
                 with
                 your
                 people
                 ,
                 some
                 with
                 legges
                 ,
              
               
                 S●me
                 with
                 a●mes
                 broken
                 ,
                 and
                 a
                 neck
                 ,
                 or
                 two
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 think
                 ,
                 be
                 l●o●e
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 rest
                 too
                 that
                 escap'd
                 ,
              
               
                 Are
                 no●
                 yet
                 out
                 of
                 the
                 briars
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 y●ur
                 ho●ses
                 ,
                 Sir
                 ,
              
               
                 Are
                 w●ll
                 set
                 up
                 in
                 Bruges
                 all
                 by
                 this
                 time
                 ▪
              
               
                 You
                 lo●k
                 as
                 you
                 were
                 no●
                 well
                 Sir
                 ,
                 and
                 would
                 be
              
               
                 Shortly
                 let
                 blood
                 ;
                 do
                 you
                 wan●
                 a
                 scarf●
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Vand-d
                 .
              
               
                 A
                 halter
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 was
                 like
                 your self
                 ,
                 honest
                 ,
                 and
                 noble
                 Hubert
                 :
              
               
                 Ca●'st
                 thou
                 behold
                 these
                 mirrors
                 altogeth●r
                 ,
              
               
                 Of
                 thy
                 long●
                 false
                 ,
                 and
                 bloody
                 usurpation
                 ?
              
               
                 Thy
                 tyrannous
                 proscription
                 ,
                 and
                 fr●sh
                 treason
                 ▪
              
               
                 And
                 not
                 so
                 see
                 thy self
                 ,
                 as
                 to
                 fa●l
                 down
              
               
                 A●d
                 sinking
                 force
                 a
                 grave
                 wi●h
                 thine
                 own
                 guilt
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 deep
                 as
                 hel●
                 ,
                 ●o
                 cover
                 thee
                 and
                 i●
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 I
                 can
                 stand
                 ,
                 and
                 praise
                 the
                 toyles
                 that
                 took
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 laughing
                 in
                 them
                 dye
                 ;
                 they
                 were
                 brave
                 snares
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 '
                 Tw●re
                 truer
                 valour
                 if
                 thou
                 durst
                 repent
              
               
                 The
                 wrongs
                 th'
                 hast
                 done
                 ,
                 and
                 live
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Woolf.
                 
              
               
                 Who
                 I
                 repent
                 ?
              
               
                 And
                 say
                 I
                 am
                 sorry
                 ?
                 yes
                 ,
                 't
                 is
                 the
                 fools
                 language
              
               
                 And
                 no●
                 for
                 Woolfort
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 
                   Vand●d
                   ▪
                
              
               
                 Woolfort
                 thou
                 art
                 a
                 ●ivell
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 speakst
                 his
                 ●anguage
                 ,
                 oh
                 that
                 I
                 had
                 my
                 longing
              
               
                 Under
                 this
                 row
                 of
                 trees
                 now
                 would
                 I
                 hang
                 him
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 let
                 him
                 live
                 ,
                 untill
                 ●e
                 can
                 repent
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 banish'd
                 from
                 our
                 State
                 ,
                 that
                 is
                 thy
                 doom
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van●d
                 .
              
               
                 Then
                 ha●g
                 his
                 worthy
                 Captain
                 here
                 ,
                 this
                 Hemskirk
              
               
                 For
                 profit
                 of
                 th'
                 example
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 No
                 ,
                 let
                 him
              
               
                 Enjoy
                 his
                 shame
                 too
                 :
                 with
                 his
                 conscious
                 life
                 ,
              
               
                 To
                 shew
                 how
                 much
                 our
                 innocence
                 contemns
              
               
                 All
                 practice
                 from
                 the
                 gui●tiest
                 ,
                 to
                 molest
                 us
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Van-d.
                 
              
               
                 A
                 noble
                 Prince
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 you
                 must
                 help
                 to
                 joyn
              
               
                 A
                 pair
                 of
                 hands
                 ,
                 as
                 they
                 have
                 done
                 their
                 hearts
                 here
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 to
                 their
                 loves
                 with
                 joy
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 to
                 mine
                 own
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 gracious
                 Sister
                 ,
                 wor●hiest
                 Brother
                 :
              
            
             
               
                 Van-d.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 go
                 afore
                 ,
                 &
                 have
                 the
                 bon-fi●e
                 made
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 fire-work●
                 ,
                 and
                 flap-dragons
                 ,
                 and
                 good
                 back-rack
                 ,
              
               
               
                 With
                 a
                 peck
                 of
                 little
                 fishes
                 ,
                 to
                 drink
                 down
              
               
                 In
                 healths
                 to
                 this
                 day
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig
                 ,
              
               
                 Sligh●
                 ,
                 here
                 be
                 changes
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 B●lls
                 ha'
                 not
                 so
                 many
                 ,
                 nor
                 a
                 dance
                 ,
                 Prig.
                 
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Our
                 Company
                 's
                 growne
                 horri●●e
                 thin
                 by
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 What
                 think
                 you
                 Ferret
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 Marry
                 I
                 do
                 think
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 we
                 might
                 all
                 be
                 Lords
                 now
                 ,
                 if
                 we
                 could
                 stand
                 fo●'t
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Not
                 I
                 ,
                 if
                 they
                 should
                 offer
                 it
                 :
                 I'●e
                 dislodge
                 first
                 ,
              
               
                 R●move
                 the
                 Bush
                 to
                 another
                 climat
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Sir
                 ,
                 you
                 must
                 thank
                 this
                 wo●thy
                 Burgomaster
                 ,
              
               
                 Here
                 be
                 friends
                 ask
                 to
                 be
                 look'd
                 on
                 too
                 :
              
               
                 A●d
                 thank'd
                 ,
                 who
                 though
                 their
                 trade
                 ,
                 and
                 course
                 of
                 life
              
               
                 Be
                 not
                 so
                 perfect
                 ,
                 but
                 it
                 may
                 be
                 better'd
                 ,
              
               
                 H●ve
                 yet
                 us'd
                 me
                 with
                 curtesie
                 ,
                 and
                 bin
                 tru●
              
               
                 Subj●cts
                 unto
                 me
                 ,
                 while
                 I
                 was
                 thei●
                 King
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 place
                 I
                 know
                 not
                 well
                 how
                 to
                 resign
                 .
              
               
                 No●
                 unto
                 whom
                 :
                 But
                 this
                 I
                 will
                 intreat
              
               
                 Your
                 grace
                 ,
                 command
                 them
                 ,
                 follow
                 me
                 to
                 Bruges
                 ;
              
               
                 Where
                 I
                 wi●l
                 take
                 the
                 care
                 on
                 me
                 ,
                 to
                 finde
              
               
                 Some
                 manly
                 ,
                 and
                 more
                 profi●ab●e
                 course
              
               
                 To
                 fit
                 them
                 ,
                 as
                 a
                 part
                 of
                 the
                 R●publique
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Flo.
                 
              
               
                 Do
                 you
                 hear
                 Sirs
                 ?
                 do
                 so
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Thanks
                 to
                 your
                 good
                 grace
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 To
                 your
                 good
                 Lordship
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Fer.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 you
                 both
                 live
                 long
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Ger.
                 
              
               
                 Attend
                 me
                 at
                 Van-doncks
                 ,
                 the
                 Burgomasters
                 .
                 
                   Ex.
                   all
                   but
                   Beggars
                   .
                
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 to
                 b●●t
                 hemp
                 ,
                 and
                 be
                 whipt
                 twice
                 a
                 week
                 ,
              
               
                 O●
                 turn
                 the
                 wheel
                 for
                 Crab
                 the
                 Rope-maker
                 ▪
              
               
                 Or
                 ●earn
                 to
                 go
                 along
                 with
                 him
                 ,
                 his
                 cours●
                 ;
              
               
                 T●at'●
                 a
                 fi●e
                 course
                 now
                 ,
                 i'
                 the
                 Commonwealth
                 ,
                 Prig.
              
               
                 What
                 say
                 yo●
                 to
                 it
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 It
                 is
                 the
                 backwardst
                 course
              
               
                 I
                 know
                 i'
                 the
                 world
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Th●n
                 Higgen
                 will
                 scarce
                 thrive
                 by
                 it
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 do
                 conclude
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 'Faith
                 hardly
                 ▪
                 very
                 hardly
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Troth
                 I
                 am
                 partly
                 of
                 your
                 mind
                 ,
                 Prince
                 Prig.
              
               
                 And
                 therefore
                 farewell
                 
                   Flanders
                   ,
                   Higgen
                
                 will
                 seek
              
               
                 Some
                 safer
                 shelter
                 ,
                 in
                 some
                 other
                 Climat
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 this
                 his
                 tatter'd
                 Colony
                 :
                 Let
                 me
                 see
                 ,
              
               
                 
                   Snap
                   ,
                   Ferret
                   ,
                   Prig
                
                 ,
                 and
                 Higgen
                 ,
                 all
                 are
                 le●t
              
               
                 O●
                 the
                 true
                 bloo●
                 :
                 what
                 ?
                 shall
                 we
                 into
                 England
                 ?
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Agreed
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Th●n
                 b●ar
                 up
                 bravely
                 with
                 your
                 Brute
                 my
                 lads
              
               
                 Higgen
                 hath
                 prig'd
                 the
                 prancers
                 in
                 his
                 dayes
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 sold
                 good
                 peny-worths
                 ;
                 we
                 will
                 have
                 a
                 cou●se
                 .
              
               
                 The
                 spirit
                 of
                 Bottom
                 is
                 grown
                 bottomlesse
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 mand
                 no
                 more
                 ,
                 nor
                 cant
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 Yes
                 ,
                 y●ur
                 six-peny
                 worth
              
               
                 In
                 priv●te
                 ,
                 b●other
                 ;
                 six-pence
                 is
                 a
                 sum
              
               
                 I
                 'le
                 steal
                 you
                 any
                 mans
                 dogge
                 for
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 For
                 six-pence
                 more
                 ,
              
               
                 You
                 'l
                 tell
                 the
                 owner
                 where
                 he
                 is
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 'T
                 is
                 right
                 ,
              
               
                 Higgen
                 must
                 practise
                 ,
                 so
                 must
                 Prigt
                 ,
                 o
                 eat
                 :
              
               
                 And
                 write
                 the
                 Letter
                 :
                 and
                 gi'
                 the
                 word
                 ,
                 But
                 now
              
               
                 No
                 more
                 ,
                 as
                 either
                 of
                 th●se
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 But
                 as
                 true
                 Beggars
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 ere
                 we
                 were
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 We
                 stand
                 here
                 ,
                 for
                 an
                 Epilogue
                 ▪
              
               
                 Ladies
                 ,
                 your
                 bounties
                 first
                 ;
                 the
                 rest
                 will
                 follow
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 womens
                 favours
                 are
                 a
                 leading
                 alms
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 you
                 be
                 pleas'd
                 look
                 cheerely
                 through
                 your
                 eys
                 :
              
               
                 Out
                 a●
                 your
                 maskes
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 let
                 your
                 beauties
                 sparkle
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 So
                 may
                 may
                 you
                 ne'er
                 want
                 dressings
                 ,
                 jewells
                 ▪
                 gownes
              
               
                 Still
                 i'
                 the
                 fashion
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 Nor
                 the
                 men
                 you
                 love
                 ,
              
               
                 Wealth
                 ,
                 nor
                 discourse
                 to
                 please
                 you
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 you
                 Gentlemen
                 ,
              
               
                 Never
                 want
                 good
                 fresh
                 suites
                 nor
                 liberty
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 May
                 every
                 Merchant
                 here
                 see
                 safe
                 his
                 ventures
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 every
                 honest
                 Citizen
                 his
                 debts
                 in
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Lawye●s
                 gain
                 good
                 Clyents
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 the
                 Clyents
                 good
                 Counsell
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 All
                 the
                 Gamesters
                 here
                 good
                 fortune
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Drunkards
                 too
                 good
                 wine
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 eaters
                 me●●
              
               
                 Fit
                 soe
                 their
                 tastes
                 and
                 pallats
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 good
                 wives
                 kind
                 Hus●ands
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 young
                 maids
                 choyce
                 of
                 Sutors
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 The
                 Mid-wives
                 merry
                 hearts
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Prig.
                 
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 good
                 ch●●re
                 ▪
              
            
             
               
                 Hig.
                 
              
               
                 As
                 you
                 are
                 kind
                 unto
                 us
                 and
                 our
                 Bush
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 are
                 the
                 Beggars
                 and
                 your
                 daily
                 Beadsmen
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 have
                 your
                 money
                 ,
                 but
                 the
                 Almes
                 we
                 ask
              
               
                 And
                 live
                 by
                 ,
                 is
                 your
                 Grace
                 ,
                 give
                 that
                 and
                 th●n
              
               
                 Wee
                 'l
                 boldly
                 say
                 our
                 word
                 is
                 ,
                 
                   Come
                   agen
                
                 .
              
            
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           THE
           PROLOGUE
           .
        
         
           TO
           please
           you
           with
           this
           Play
           ,
           we
           feare-will
           be
        
         
           (
           So
           doe's
           the
           Authour
           too
           )
           a
           mystery
        
         
           Somewhat
           above
           our
           Art
           ;
           For
           all
           mens
           eyes
           ,
        
         
           Ears
           ,
           faiths
           ,
           and
           judgements
           ,
           are
           not
           of
           one
           size
           .
        
         
           For
           to
           say
           truth
           ,
           and
           not
           to
           flatter
           ye
           ,
        
         
           This
           is
           nor
           Comedy
           ,
           nor
           Tragedy
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           History
           ,
           nor
           any
           thing
           that
           may
        
         
           (
           Yet
           in
           a
           week
           )
           be
           made
           a
           perfect
           Play
           :
        
         
           Yet
           those
           that
           love
           to
           laugh
           ,
           and
           those
           that
           think
        
         
           Twelve-pence
           goes
           farther
           this
           way
           then
           in
           drink
           ,
        
         
           Or
           Damsels
           ,
           if
           they
           mark
           ●he
           matter
           through
           ,
        
         
           May
           stumble
           on
           a
           foolish
           toy
           ,
           or
           two
           ,
        
         
           Will
           make
           'em
           shew
           their
           teeth
           :
           pray
           for
           my
           sake
        
         
           (
           That
           likely
           am
           your
           first
           man
           )
           do
           not
           take
        
         
           A
           distaste
           before
           you
           feel
           it
           :
           for
           ye
           may
        
         
           When
           this
           is
           hist
           to
           ashes
           ,
           have
           a
           Play
           ,
        
         
           And
           here
           ,
           to
           out-hisse
           this
           ;
           be
           patient
           then
        
         
           (
           My
           honuor
           done
           )
           y'
           are
           welcome
           Gentlemen
           .
        
      
       
         
           THE
           EPILOGUE
           .
        
         
           IF
           you
           mislike
           ;
           (
           as
           you
           shall
           ever
           be
        
         
           Your
           own
           free
           Iudges
           )
           this
           Play
           utterly
           ,
        
         
           For
           your
           own
           Noblenesse
           ,
           yet
           do
           not
           hisse
           ,
        
         
           But
           as
           you
           go
           by
           ,
           say
           it
           was
           amisse
           ;
        
         
           And
           we
           will
           mend
           :
           Chide
           us
           ,
           but
           let
           it
           be
        
         
           Never
           in
           cold
           blood
           :
           O'
           my
           honesty
           ,
        
         
           (
           If
           I
           have
           any
           )
           this
           I
           'le
           say
           for
           all
           ,
        
         
           Our
           meaning
           was
           to
           please
           you
           still
           ,
           and
           shall
           .