_Pal_. Search but further
And there's a golden brooch in it, a diamond,
Upon my byrthday geven mee by my father.
_Ashb_. I have longe sought and nowe at lengthe have found
That diamond, thee my doughter.
_Pal_. How, syr?
_Ashb_. Shee that so late excluded thee my house
And shutt these gates against thee, _Isabell_
Thy mother, these weare her owne handyworkes
Bestowde upon thee in thyne infancy
To make us nowe boathe happy in thy yoouth.
I am _Jhon Ashburne_ marchant, _London, Christ Church_;
The yeare, place, tyme agree thee to bee myne,
Oh merher [mirror] of thy sex, my _Myrable_!
_Pal_. This surplusadge of joy should not bee forged.
_Ashb_. No more than these noates are infalleble.
_Pal_. Thus then in all Humility I kneele
To you my acknowledgd father.
_Ashb_. Ryse, my guerle.
_Fisher_. Had I not drawne this leeward out of the sea, where had it
bin? all drownd by this.
_Ashb_. No triflinge nowe: post, _Godfrey_, to my wyfe,
Tell her no more then thou hast heard and seene:
Shee's hard of faythe, relate it punctually,
Beare her (oh lett me borrowe them so longe)
These better to confirme her; bid her hast,
And for the truth add these as testimony:--
Nay, art thou heare still?
_Godf_.
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