_Her_. I, so long, And with so blest successes, that the _Brabander_ Was forc't (his treasures wasted, and the choice Of his best men of Armes tyr'd, or cut off) To leave the field, and sound a base retreat Back to his Country: but so broken both In mind and means, er'e to make head again, That hitherto he sits down by his loss, Not daring, or for honour, or revenge Again to tempt his fortune. But this Victory More broke our State, and made a deeper hurt In _Flanders_, than the greatest overthrow She ever receiv'd: For _Wolfort_, now beholding Himself, and actions, in the flattering glass Of self-deservings, and that cherish't by The strong assurance of his power, for then All Captains of the Army were his creatures, The common Souldier too at his devotion, Made so by full indulgence to their rapines And secret bounties, this strength too well known And what it could effect, soon put in practice, As further'd by the Child-hood of the Earl: And their improvidence, that might have pierc't The heart of his designs, gave him occasion To seize the whole, and in that plight you find it. _Mer_. Sir, I receive the knowledge of thus much, As a choice favour from you. _Her_. Only I must add, _Bruges_ holds out. _Mer_. Whither, Sir, I am going, For there last night I had a ship put in, And my Horse waits me. [_Exit_. _Her_. I wish you a good journey. _Enter_ Wolfort, Hubert. _Wol_. What? _Hubert_ stealing from me? who disarm'd him? It was more than I commanded; take your sword, I am best guarded with it in your hand, I have seen you use it nobly. _Hub_. And will turn it On my own bosom, ere it shall be drawn Unworthily or rudely. _Wol_. Would you leave me Without a farewel, _Hubert_? flie a friend Unwearied in his study to advance you? What have I e're possess'd which was not yours? Or either did not court you to command it? Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace, Reward or trust from me, but his approaches Were by your fair reports of him prefer'd? And what is more I made my self your Servant, In making you the Master of those secrets Which not the rack of Conscience could draw from me, Nor I, when I askt mercy, trust my prayers with; Yet after these assurances of love, These tyes and bonds of friendship, to forsake me? Forsake me as an enemy? come you must Give me a reason. _Hub_. Sir, and so I will, If I may do't in private: and you hear it. _Wol_. All leave the room: you have your will, sit down And use the liberty of our first friendship. _Hub_. Friendship? when you prov'd Traitor first, that vanish'd, Nor do I owe you any thought, but hate, I know my flight hath forfeited my head; And so I may make you first understand What a strange monster you have made your self, I welcome it. _Wol_. To me this is strange language. _Hub_. To you? why what are you? _Wol_. Your Prince and Master, The Earl of _Flanders_. Hub. By a proper title! Rais'd to it by cunning, circumvention, force, Blood, and proscriptions.