Wol. 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 Hemskirks Niece,
Nor Vandunks Daughter:  this is Bertha, Bertha,
The heir of Brabant, she that caus’d the war,
Whom I did steal, during my treaty there,
In your minority, to raise my self;
I then fore-seeing ’twould beget a quarel,
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:  which had not been to doe Sir,
She come of years, but that the expectation
First of her Fathers death, retarded it,
And since the standing out of Bruges, where
Hemskirk had hid her, till she was near lost: 
But Sir, we have recover’d her:  your Merchantship
May break, for this was one of your best bottoms
I think.

Ger. Insolent Devil!

Enter Hubert, with Jaqueline, Ginks, and Costin.

Wol. Who are these, Hemskirk?

Hem. More, more, Sir.

Flo. How they triumph in their treachery!

Hem. Lord Arnold of Benthusin, this Lord Costin, This Jaqueline the sister unto Florez.

Wol. All found? why here’s brave game, this was sport royall, And puts me in thought of a new kind of death for ’em.  Hunts-man, your horn:  first wind me Florez fall, Next Gerrards, then his Daughter Jaquelins, Those rascals, they shall dye without their rights:  Hang ’em Hemskirk on these trees; I’le take The assay of these my self.

Hub. Not here my Lord, Let ’em be broken up upon a scaffold, ’Twill shew the better when their arbour’s made.

Ger. Wretch, art thou not content thou hast betrai’d us, But mock us too?

Ginks. False Hubert, this is monstrous.

Wol. Hubert?

Hem. Who, this?

Ger. Yes this is Hubert, Wolfort, I hope he has helpt himself to a tree.

Wol. The first,
The first of any, and most glad I have you Sir,
I let you goe before, but for a train;
Is’t you have done this service?

Hub. As your Hunts-man, But now as Hubert; save your selves, I will, The Wolf’s afoot, let slip; kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter with a drum Van-dunk, Merchants, Higgen, Prig, Ferret, Snap.

Wol. Betray’d?

Hub. No, but well catch’d:  and I the Huntsman.

Van-d. How do you Wolfort?  Rascal, good knave Wolfort,
I speak it now without the Rose, and Hemskirk,
Rogue Hemskirk, you that have no niece, this Lady
Was stoln by you, and ta’ne by you, and now
Resign’d by me, to the right owner here: 
Take her my Prince.