Mild. Dy in some spittle stocks or cage.
Fish. I'l keepe my promisse, fayle not thou thine oathe. So inn and tell my mayster. [Exit Fisherman.
Mild. Yes, bawdes keepe oaths! t'must bee in leap-yeare then, Not now; what wee sweare weel forsweare agen.
Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, and Gripus, to 'em.
Ashb. And hee in that did well, for Heaven defend I shoold inritche mee with what's none of myne. Where is the man that claymes it?
Grip. Heare's my sworne soon, that but even now acknowledgd mee to bee his father.
Ashb. Knowest thou this?
Mild. Yes for myne owne. I had thought, lyke one forlorne,
All fortune had forsooke mee, but I see
My best dayes are to com. Welcom my lyfe!
Nay if there bee in any bawde a sowle
This nowe hath mett the body.
Ashb. All's theire safe
Unrifled, naye untutcht, save a small caskett
With som few trifles of no valewe in't,
Yet to mee pretious, synce by them I have fownd
My one and only doughter.
Mild. Howes that, pray?