Enter Merchants.

1 Mer. ’Save you Sir.

Gos. ’Save you.

1 Mer. No news yet o’ your Ships?

Gos. Not any yet Sir.

1 Mer. ’Tis strange. [Exit.

Gos. ’Tis true Sir:  what a voyce was here now?  This was one passing bell, a thousand ravens Sung in that man now, to presage my ruins.

2 Mer. Goswin, good day, these winds are very constant.

Gos. They are so Sir; to hurt—­

2 Mer. Ha’ you had no letters Lately from England, nor from Denmark?

Gos. Neither.

2 Mer. This wind brings them; nor no news over land, Through Spain, from the Straights?

Gos. Not any.

2 Mer. I am sorry Sir. [Exit.

Gos. They talk me down:  and as ’tis said of Vulturs
They scent a field fought, and do smell the carkasses
By 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 my own adventure, here at home,
Of my chast love, to keep me worthy of her,
It shall be put in scale ’gainst all ill fortunes: 
I am not broken yet:  nor should I fall,
Me thinks with less than that, that ruins all. [Exit.

SCENA III.

Enter Van-dunck, Hubert, Hemskirk, and Margaret, Boors.

Van. Captain, you are welcom; so is this your friend
Most safely welcom, though our Town stand out
Against your Master, you shall find good quarter: 
The troth is, we not love him:  Margaret some wine,
Let’s talk a little treason, if we can
Talk treason, ’gainst the traitors; by your leave, Gentlemen,
We, here in Bruges, think he do’s usurp,
And therefore I am bold with him.

Hub. Sir, your boldness
Happily becomes your mouth, but not our ears,
While we are his servants; And as we come here,
Not to ask questions, walk forth on your walls,
Visit your courts of guard, view your munition,
Ask of your corn-provisions, nor enquire
Into the least, as spies upon your strengths,
So let’s entreat, we may receive from you
Nothing in passage or discourse, but what
We may with gladness, and our honesties here,
And that shall seal our welcom.

Van. Good:  let’s drink then, Fill out, I keep mine old pearl still Captain.

Marg. I hang fast man.

Hen. 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, ’tis all under the Rose
Forgotten:  drown all memory, when we drink.

Hub. ’Tis freely spoken noble Burgomaster, I’le do you right.