_Hem_. And do so still, Sir,
I assure you, her rates are more than you are worth.

_Gos_. You do not know, what a Gentleman's worth, Sir,
Nor can you value him.

_H[u]b_. Well said Merchant.

_Van_. Nay,
Let him alone, and ply your matter.

_Hem_. A Gentleman?
What o'the Wool-pack? or the Sugar-chest?
Or lists of Velvet? which is't pound, or yard,
You vent your Gentry by?

_Hub_. O _Hemskirk_, fye.

_Van_. Come, do not mind 'em, drink, he is no _Wolfort_,
Captain, I advise you.

_Hem_. Alas, my pretty man,
I think't be angry, by its look: Come hither,
Turn this way, a little: if it were the blood
Of _Charlemaine_, as't may (for ought I know)
Be some good Botchers issue, here in _Bruges_.

_Gos_. How?