Woolf. I begin, Hemskirk, to believe my fate, Works to my ends.
Hem. Yes Sir, and this adds trust
Unto the fellow our guide, who assur'd me Florez
Liv'd in some Merchants shape, as Gerrard did
I' the old Beggars, and that he would use
Him for the train, to call the other forth;
All which we find is done—That's he again— [Holla again.
Woolf. Good, we sent out to meet him.
Hem. Here's the Oak.
Ger. I am miserably lost, thus faln Into my Uncles hands from all my hopes, Can I not think away my self and dye?
Enter Hubert, Higgen, Prig, Ferret, Snap, Ginks like Boors.
Hub. I like your habits well: they are safe, stand close.
Hig. But what's the action we are for now? Ha! Robbing a Ripper of his Fish.
Prig. Or taking A Poulterer Prisoner, without ransome, Bullyes?
Hig. Or cutting off a Convoy of Butter?