Hig. ’Gainst seven deadly sins.

Prig. And seven sleepers.

Hig. If they be hard of heart, and will give nothing—­ Alas, we had not a charity this three dayes.

Hub. There’s amongst you all.

Fer. Heaven reward you.

Prig. Lord reward you.

Hig. The Prince of pity bless thee.

Hub. Do I see? or is’t my fancy that would have it so?  Ha? ’tis her face:  come hither maid.

Jac. What ha’ you,
Bells for my squirrel?  I ha’ giv’n bun meat,
You do not love me, do you? catch me a butterfly,
And I’le love you again; when? can you tell? 
Peace, we go a birding:  I shall have a fine thing. [Exit.

Hub. Her voyce too sayes the same; but for my head
I would not that her manners were so chang’d. 
Hear me thou honest fellow; what’s this maiden,
That lives amongst you here?

Gin. Ao, ao, ao, ao.

Hub. How? nothing but signs?

Gin. Ao, ao, ao, ao.

Hub. This 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 ev’n now me thought.  Do’st thou know this same maid?

Snap. Why, why, why, why, which, gu, gu, gu, gu, Gods fool
She was bo-bo-bo-bo-born at the barn yonder,
By-be-be-be-be-Beggars 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 he says; how long Has she been here?

Snap. Lo-lo-long enough to be ni-ni-nigled, and she ha’ go-go-go-good luck.

Hub. I must be better inform’d, than by this way. 
Here was another face too, that I mark’d
Of 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.

Hem. What mean you Sir, To stay there with that stammerer?

Hub. Farewell friend,—­
It will be worth return, to search:  Come,
Protect us our disguise now, pre’thee Hemskirk
If we be taken, how do’st thou imagine
This town will use us, that hath stood so long
Out against Wolfort?

Hem. Ev’n to hang us forth
Upon their walls a sunning, to make Crows meat,
If I were not assur’d o’ the Burgomaster,
And had a pretty excuse to see a niece there,
I should scarce venture.

Hub. Come ’tis now too late To look back at the ports:  good luck, and enter. [Exeunt.

SCENA II.

    Enter Goswin.

Gos. Still blow’st thou there? and from all other parts,
Do all my agents sleep, that nothing comes? 
There’s a conspiracy of windes, 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 returns.