A Hubert, a Hubert, a Hubert!
Flourish: Enter Hubert, armed with shields and swords. Bellina and a company of Souldiers with him.
Hub. What meanes this cry, 'a Hubert'? Where's your King?
Omnes. Strucke dead by thunder.
Hub. So I heare; you see, then,
There is an arme more rigorous than your Iove,
An arme stretcht from above to beate down Gyants,
The mightiest Kings on Earth, for all their shoulders
Carry Colossi heads: the memory
Of Genzericks name dyes here: Henricke gives buriall
To the successive glory of that race
Who had both voyce and title to the Crowne,
And meanes to guard it.—Who must now be King?
Anton. We know not till we call the Lords together.
Hub. What Lords?
Cosmo. Our selves and others.
Hub. Who makes you Lords? The Tree upon whose boughs your honours grew, Your Lordships and your lives, is falne to th'ground.
Dam. We stand on our owne strength.