_Gos._ Nay, I do love no blows, Sir, there's exchange.

_Hub._ Hold, Sir. (_He gets_ Hemskirks _sword and cuts him on the head._

_Mar._ O murther.

_Ger._ Help my _Goswin_.

_Mar._ Man.

_Van._ Let 'em alone; my life for one.

_Gos._ Nay come,
If you have will.

_Hub._ None to offend you, I, Sir.

_Gos._ He that had, thank himself: not hand her? yes Sir,
And clasp her, and embrace her; and (would she
Now go with me) bear her through all her Race,
Her Father, Brethren, and her Uncles, arm'd,
And all their Nephews, though they stood a wood
Of Pikes, and wall of Canon: kiss me _Gertrude_,
Quake not, but kiss me.

_Van._ Kiss him, Girl, I bid you;
My Merchant Royal; fear no Uncles: hang 'em,
Hang up all Uncles: Are not we in _Bruges_?
Under the Rose here?