on the head._

_Mar._ O murther.

_Ger._ Help my _Goswin_.

_Mar._ Man.

_Van._ Let 'em alone; my life for one.

_Gos._ Nay come,
If you have will.

_Hub._ None to offend you, I, Sir.

_Gos._ 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 Nephews, though they stood a wood
Of Pikes, and wall of Canon: kiss me _Gertrude_,
Quake not, but kiss me.

_Van._ Kiss him, Girl, I bid you;
My Merchant Royal; fear no Uncles: hang 'em,
Hang up all Uncles: Are not we in _Bruges_?
Under the Rose here?

_Gos._ In this circle, Love,
Thou art as safe, as in a Tower of Brass;
Let such as do wrong, fear.

_Van._ I, that's good,
Let _Wolfort_ look to that.

_Gos._ Sir, here she stands,
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._ Doe: and I drink to it.

_Gos._ Prethee say so, Love.

_Ger._ 'Twould take away the honour from my blushes:
Do not you play the tyrant, sweet: they speak it.

_Hem._ I thank you niece.

_Gos._ Sir, thank her for your life,
And fetch your sword within.

_Hem._ You insult too much
With your good fortune, Sir. [_Exeunt_ Gos. _and_ Ger.

_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 all wayes worthy,
As else in any file of man-kind: pray you,
What meant you so to slight him?

_Hem._ 'Tis 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 _Wolforts_, and my name's _Vandunk_,

_Hub._ _Van drunk_ it's rather: come, go sleep within.

_Van._ Earl _Florez_ is right heir, and this same _Wolfort_
Under the Rose I speak it--

_Hub._ Very hardly.

_Van-d._ Usurps: and a rank Traitor, as ever breath'd,
And all that do uphold him. Let me goe,
No man shall hold me, that upholds him;
D