Flo. Can this be possible, Welcom my love, my sweet, 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 Boyes, to march Like Caesar, when he bred his Commentaries, So I, to bread my Chronicle, came forth Caesar Van-dunk, & 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’ scratch’d their leggs a little, with brambles, If not their faces.

Prig. Yes, and run their heads Against trees.

Hig. ’Tis Captain Prig, Sir.

Prig. And Coronel Higgen.

Hig. We have fill’d a pit with your people, some with leggs, Some with arms broken, and a neck or two I think be loose.

Prig. The rest too, that escap’d, Are not yet out o’the briars,

Hig. And your horses, Sir, Are well set up in Bruges all by this time:  You look as you were not well Sir, and would be Shortly let blood; do you want a scarf?

Van-d. A halter.

Ger. ’Twas like your self, honest, and noble Hubert: 
Can’st thou behold these mirrors all together,
Of thy long, false, and bloody usurpation? 
Thy tyrrannous proscription, and fresh treason: 
And not so see thy self, as to fall down
And sinking, force a grave, with thine own guilt,
As deep as hell, to cover thee and it?

Wol. No, I can stand:  and praise the toyles that took me And laughing in them dye, they were brave snares.

Flo. ’Twere truer valour, if thou durst repent The wrongs th’ hast done, and live.

Wol. Who, I repent?  And say I am sorry? yes, ’tis the fool’s language And not for Wolfort.

Van-d. Wolfort, thou art a Devil, And speakst his language, oh that I had my longing Under this row of trees now would I hang him.

Flo. No let him live, until he can repent, But banish’d from our State, that is thy doom.

Van-d. Then hang 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 guiltiest, to molest us.

Van-d. A noble Prince.

Ger. Sir, you must help to join 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, worthiest Brother.

Van. I’le go afore, and have the bon-fire made, My fire-works, & flap dragons, and good backrack, With a peck of little fishes, to drink down In healths to this day.

Hig. ’Slight, here be changes, The Bells ha’ not so many, nor a dance, Prig.