_Ashb_. A match then! but, ere further you proceede, Resolve mee one thinge, _Mildewe_,--not as thou art Thyself, but as thou once weart made a Christian,-- Knowest thou this made's descent, and parentadge? _Mild_. I will resolve you lyke a convertite,[158] Not as the man I was: I knew there byrthes, But for myne owne gayne kept them still conceal'd. _Ashb_. Now as thou hop'st of grace-- _Mild_. The nurse late dead That had these too in chardge, betrayde a shipboord And ravisht from her coontry, ere she expyr'd Nam'd her the doughter of _Jhon Ashburne_, marchant. Her I _Palestra_ cal'd, shee _Mirable_; That, _Winefryde_, doughter to _Thomas Ashburne_ Brother to the sayde _Jhon_, I cal'd _Scribonia_. They too are coosin germans. _Ashb_. This our neece? _Thom_. My doughter? _Pal_. Partners in sorrowe, and so neere allyde, And wee till nowe neare knewe it! _Scrib_. My deere coosin. _Ashb_. Nay, I'l bee my woords mayster; reache your hands, And thoughe no nearer then an Unkle, once I'l playe the father's part. _Thom_. Praye hold your hand, Syr; Heares one that will doo't for you. _Ash_. Brother _Thomas_! _Thom_. Peruse that letter, whilst I breathe these Joys, Impartinge these a most unlimitted love In equall distribution, doughter, neece, Brother, and frends; lett mee devyde amongst you A fathers, brothers, and a kinsman's yoake With all th'unmeasured pleasures and delights That thought of man can wishe you. _Ashb_. Spare reply. These tell mee, that those bloodhounds who pursude My fall, my oppressinge creditors I meane, Are gone before to answer for my wronges, And in there deathes with due acknowledgment Of all theire violens doon mee; peace with them! That lykewyse by the deathe of a ritche alderman, My unkle, I am left a fayer estate In land, eight hundred by the yeare, in coyne Twenty fyve thousand pound. Make mee, oh heaven, For this greate blessinge gratefull! and not least To you my Indeer'd brother. _Thom_. One thinge woonders mee That I should fynd you neare _Marcellis_ heare, When I was aym'd for _Florens_; where your letters Inform'd mee you were planted. _Ashb_. But even thither Those crewell men dog'd mee with such pursuit That theire I fownd no safety, but was forct To fly thence with that little I had left And to retyre mee to this obscure place; Where by the trade of fishinge I have lyv'd Till nowe of a contented competens. Those bates, hookes, lynes and netts for thy good servyce, _Gripus_, I nowe make thyne. _Grip_. You are my noble mayster, and would I could have fownd more tricks then these in my budgett, they had bin all at your servyce. _Ashb_. I purpose nowe for _England_, whether so please These gentlemen consort us with theire brydes. _Boathe_. Most willingly. _Ashb_. There you shall see what welcome Our _London_, so much spoake of heare in _France_, Can give to woorthy strangers. _Thom_. Att my chardge Your shippinge is provyded, and at anchor Lyes ready in the roade.