Hem. Sir, I do say, she is no Merchandize, Will that suffice you?
Gos. Merchandize good Sir?
Though ye be Kinsman to her, take no leave thence
To use me with contempt: I ever thought
Your Niece above all price.
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.
Hb. 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.