The things we do!

Lyke a shadowe vanisht,
But to returne a substance. [_Exit Godfrey_.[134]
_Ashb_. Oh my deare doughter!--where's young _Raphael's_ man
Beare him of all what thou hast seene a perfect
And trew relation.
_Clowne_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_.[135] Bidd him too,
All business sett apart, make hether.
_Clown_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. Tell him that his _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_.
_Clown_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. And that shee is my doughter, my lost child.
_Clowne_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. And that of all this I am most assur'd.
_Clown_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. Thou wilt not doo all this?
_Clown_. I will, you lye, syr.
_Ashb_. Howe, syr.
_Cl_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. Saye that this daye shee shalbee made his wyfe.
_Cl_. Ay, syr.
_Ashb_. Why then add winges unto your heeles and fly, syr.
_Cl_. Ay syr, but ere I take my flight, for this good servyce
You'll mediate with him for my freedom?
_Ashb_. So.
_Cl_. And woo your doughter to doo so too?
_Ashb_. So.
_Cl_. And, syr, to him I shalbee thankefull.
_Ashb_. So.
_Cl_. Your doughters and your servant ever.


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