O sonnes leef, O Joves doughter dere, Plesaunce of love, O goodly debonaire, In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire!

higado, m., liver; hasta echar los s, with all (your) might. hija, f., doughter, girl, child, offspring.

Mildewe. I'l fetch my doughter That hath no lightnes in her, currant too As any lasse i'th cittye.

I have bene father of a doughter once, Though not these many yeares blest with her sight, But of a soone yet never.

I have longe sought and nowe at lengthe have found That diamond, thee my doughter.

And that shee is my doughter, my lost child.

And woo your doughter to doo so too? Ashb.

Your doughters and your servant ever.

for by these tokens, These of her childhood most unfallid signes, I knwe her for my doughter.

Her trew name Mirable And Ashburne's doughter? Clowne.

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.

This is my Mirable, My doughter and freeborne; and if you still Persist the same man you profest your self, Beehold shee is your wyfe.

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.

My doughter? Pal.

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

A doughter had this worthy king also That youngest was and highte Canace.

"Myne own good doughter, our Lorde be thanked I am in good helthe of bodye, and in good quiet of minde: and of worldly thynges I no more desyer then I haue.

But the fact is, that when ye was in common use, it was as frequently applied to one person as you: thus, "Farewell my doughter lady Margarete, God wotte full oft it grieued hath my mynde, That ye should go where we should seldome mete: Now am I gone, and haue left you behynde."Sir