_Clowne_. First proove this to bee thyne.
_Fisher_. I can and by the fisherman's rethorick.
_Clowne_. Proceed sea-gull.
_Fisher_. Thus land-spaniell; no man can say this is my fishe till hee
finde it in his nett.
_Clowne_. Good.
_Fisher_. What I catche is myne owne, my lands my goodds my copy-hold,
my fee-simple, myne to sell, myne to give, myne to lend, and myne to
cast away; no man claimes part, no man share, synce fishinge is free
and the sea common.
_Clowne_.[124] If all bee common that the sea yeelds why then is not
that as much mine as thyne?
_Fisher_. By that lawe, when wee bringe our fishe to the markett, if
every one may freely chuse what hee lykes and take where hee lyst, wee
shoold have quikly empty dorsers[125] and cleane stalls, but light
purses.
_Clowne_. How can'st thou proove that to bee a fishe that was not bredd
in the water, that coold never swimme, that hathe neather roe nor milt,
scale nor finne, lyfe nor motion? Did ever man heare of a fishe cald a
budgett? What shape, what collor?
_Fisher_. This shape, this collor, there's nowe within better then the
spawne of sturgeon; I must confesse indeed, they are rarely seene, and
seldom fownd; for this is the fyrst I ever catcht in all the tyme of my
fishinge.
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