Chapter XVI: Appendix (2)

Now let them drynke till they nod and winke,
Even as good felowes shoulde doe;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bringe men to;
And all poore soules that have scowred boules,
Or have them lustly trolde,
God save the lyves of them and theyr wyves,
Whether they be yonge or olde.
Backe and syde go bare, etc.

[The Second Acte.] The Fyrst Sceane.

DICCON. HODGE.

_Diccon._ Well done, by Gogs malt! well songe and well sayde!
Come on, mother Chat, as thou art true mayde,
One fresh pot of ale lets see, to make an ende
Agaynst this colde wether my naked armes to defende!
This gere it warms the soule! Now, wind, blow on the worst! 5
And let us drink and swill till that our bellies burste!
Now were he a wise man by cunnynge could defyne
Which way my journey lyeth, or where Dyccon will dyne!
But one good turne I have: be it by nyght or daye,
South, east, north or west, I am never out of my waye! 10

_Hodge._ Chym goodly rewarded, cham I not, do you thyncke?
Chad a goodly dynner for all my sweate and swyncke!
Neyther butter, cheese, mylke, onyons, fleshe, nor fyshe,
Save this poor pece of barly bread: tis a pleasant costly dishe!

_Diccon._ Haile, fellow Hodge, and well[676] to fare with thy meat, if
thou have any: 15
But by thy words, as I them smelled, thy daintrels be not manye.

_Hodge._ Daintrels, Diccon? Gogs soule, man, save this piece of dry
horsbread,
Cha byt no byt this lyvelonge daie, no crome come in my head:
My gutts they yawle-crawle, and all my belly rumbleth;
The puddynges[677] cannot lye still, each one over other
tumbleth. 20
By Gogs harte, cham so vexte, and in my belly pende,
Chould one peece were at the spittlehouse, another at the castelle
ende!

_Diccon._ Why, Hodge, was there none at home thy dinner for to set?

_Hodge._ Gogs[678] bread, Diccon, ich came to late, was nothing there
to get!
Gib (a fowle feind might on her light!) lickt the milke pan so
clene, 25
See, Diccon, twas not so well washt this seven yere, as ich wene!
A pestilence light on all ill lucke! chad thought, yet for all
thys
Of a morsell of bacon behynde the dore at worst shuld not misse:
But when ich sought a slyp to cut, as ich was wont to do,
Gogs soule, Diccon! Gyb, our cat, had eate the bacon to! 30

(_Which bacon Diccon stole, as is declared before._)

_Diccon._ Ill luck, quod he! mary, swere it, Hodge! this day, the
trueth to tel,
Thou rose not on thy ryght syde, or else blest thee not wel.
Thy milk slopt up! thy bacon filtched! that was to bad luck, Hodg!

_Hodge._ Nay, nay, ther was a fowler fault, my Gammer ga me the
dodge;[679]
Seest not how cham rent and torn, my heels, my knees, and my
breech? 35
Chad thought, as ich sat by the fire, help here and there a
stitch:
But there ich was powpt[680] indeede.

_Diccon._ Why, Hodge?

_Hodge._ Bootes not, man, to tell.
Cham so drest amongst a sorte of fooles, chad better be in hell.
My gammer (cham ashamed to say), by God, served me not weele.

_Diccon._ How so, Hodge?

_Hodge._ Has she not gone, trowest now, and lost her neele?

_Diccon._ Her eele, Hodge? Who fysht of late? That was a dainty
dysh! 41

_Hodge._ Tush, tush, her neele, her neele, her neele, man! tis neither
flesh nor fysh;
A lytle thing with an hole in the end, as bright as any syller,
Small, longe, sharpe at the poynt, and straight as any pyller.

_Diccon._ I know not what a devil thou meenst, thou bringst me more in
doubt. 45

_Hodge._ Knowst not with what Tom Tailers man sits broching throughe a
clout?
A neele, a neele, a neele! my gammer's neele is gone.

_Diccon._ Her neele, Hodge? now I smel thee! that was a chaunce alone!
By the masse, thou hast a shamefull losse, and it wer but for thy
breches.

_Hodge._ Gogs soule, man, chould give a crown chad it but three
stitches. 50

_Diccon._ How sayest thou, Hodge? What shuld he have, again thy nedle
got?

_Hodge._ Bern vathers soule, and chad it, chould give him a new grot.

_Diccon._ Canst thou keep counsaile in this case?

_Hodge._ Else chwold my tonge[681] were out.

_Diccon._ Do than but then by my advise, and I will fetch it without
doubt.

_Hodge._ Chyll runne, chyll ryde, chyll dygge, chyl delve, chill
toyle, chill trudge, shalt see; 55
Chill hold, chil drawe, chil pull, chill pynche, chill kneele on
my bare knee;
Chill scrape, chill scratche, chill syfte, chill seeke, chill
bowe, chill bende, chill sweate,
Chill stoop, chil stur, chil cap, chil knele, chil crepe on hands
and feete;
Chill be thy bondman, Diccon, ich sweare by sunne and moone.
And channot sumwhat to stop this gap, cham utterly undone! 60

(_Pointing behind to his torne breeches._)

_Diccon._ Why, is there any special cause thou takest hereat such
sorow?

_Hodge._ Kirstian Clack, Tom Simpsons maid, by the masse, coms hether
to morow,
Cham not able to say, betweene us what may hap;
She smyled on me the last Sunday, when ich put of my cap.

_Diccon._ Well, Hodge, this is a matter of weight, and must be kept
close, 65
It might els turne to both our costes, as the world now gose.
Shalt sware to be no blab, Hodge!

_Hodge._ Chyll, Diccon.

_Diccon._ Then go to,
Lay thine hand here; say after me as thou shal here me do.
Haste no booke?

_Hodge._ Cha no booke, I!

_Diccon._ Then needes must force us both,
Upon my breech to lay thine hand, and there to take thine othe.

_Hodge._ I, Hodge, breechelesse 71
Sweare to Diccon, rechelesse,
By the crosse that I shall kysse,
To keep his counsaile close,
And alwayes me to dispose 75
To worke that his pleasure is. (_Here he kysseth_ DICCONS
_breech_.)

_Diccon._ Now, Hodge, see thou take heede,
And do as I thee byd;
For so I judge it meete;
This nedle again to win, 80
There is no shift therin
But conjure up a spreete.

_Hodge._ What, the great devill, Diccon, I saye?

_Diccon._ Yea, in good faith, that is the waye.
Fet with some prety charme. 85

_Hodge._ Soft, Diccon, be not to hasty yet,
By the masse, for ich begyn to sweat!
Cham afrayde of some[682] harme.

_Diccon._ Come hether, then, and sturre the nat
One inche out of this cyrcle plat, 90
But stande as I thee teache.

_Hodge._ And shall ich be here safe from theyr clawes?

_Diccon._ The mayster devill with his longe pawes
Here to the can not reache.
Now will I settle me to this geare. 95

_Hodge._ I saye, Diccon, heare me, heare!
Go softely to thys matter!

_Diccon._ What devyll, man? art afraide of nought?

_Hodge._ Canst not tarrye a lytle thought
Tyll ich make a curtesie of water? 100

_Diccon._ Stand still to it; why shuldest thou feare hym?

_Hodge._ Gogs sydes, Diccon, me thinke ich heare him!
And tarrye, chal mare all!

_Diccon._ The matter is no worse than I tolde it.

_Hodge._ By the masse, cham able no longer to holde it! 105
To bad! iche must beray the hall!

_Diccon._ Stand to it, Hodge! sture not, you horson!
What devyll, be thine ars strynges brusten?
Thyselfe a while but staye,
The devill (I smell hym) will be here anone. 110

_Hodge._ Hold him fast, Diccon, cham gone! cham gone!
Chyll not be at that fraye!

The ii Acte. The ii Sceane.

DICCON. CHAT.

_Diccon._ Fy, shytten knave, and out upon thee!
Above all other loutes, fye on thee!
Is not here a clenly prancke?
But thy matter was no better,
Nor thy presence here no sweter, 5
To flye I can the thanke.[683]

Here is a matter worthy glosynge,
Of Gammer Gurton nedle losynge,
And a foule peece of warke!
A man I thyncke myght make a playe, 10
And nede no worde to this they saye,
Being but halfe a clarke.

Softe, let me alone! I will take the charge
This matter further to enlarge
Within a tyme shone. 15
If ye will marke my toyes, and note,
I will geve ye leave to cut my throte
If I make not good sporte.

Dame Chat, I say, where be ye? within?

_Chat._ Who have we there maketh such a din? 20

_Diccon._ Here is a good fellow, maketh no great daunger.

_Chat._ What, Diccon? Come nere, ye be no straunger.
We be fast set at trumpe, man, hard by the fyre;
Thou shall set on the king, if thou come a little nyer.

_Diccon._ Nay, nay, there is no tarying; I must be gone againe. 25
But first for you in councel I have a word or twain.

_Chat._ Come hether, Dol! Dol, sit downe and play this game,
And as thou sawest me do, see thou do even the same.
There is five trumps beside the queene, the hindmost thou shalt
finde her.
Take hede of Sim Glovers wife, she hath an eie behind her! 30
Now, Diccon, say your will.

_Diccon._ Nay, softe a little yet;
I wold not tel it my sister, the matter is so great.
There I wil have you sweare by our dere Lady of Bullaine,
Saint Dunstone, and Saint Donnyke, with the three kings of
Kullaine,
That ye shal keepe it secret.

_Chat._ Gogs bread! that will I doo! 35
As secret as mine owne thought, by God and the devil two!

_Diccon,_ Here is Gammer Gurton, your neighbour, a sad and hevy wight:
Her goodly faire red cock at home was stole this last night.

_Chat,_ Gogs soul! her cock with the yelow legs, that nightly crowed
so just?

_Diccon._ That cock is stollen.

_Chat._ What, was he fet out of the hens ruste? 40

_Diccon._ I can not tel where the devil he was kept, under key or
locke;
But Tib hath tykled in Gammers eare, that you shoulde steale the
cocke.

_Chat._ Have I, stronge hoore? by bread and salte!--

_Diccon._ What, softe, I say, be styl!
Say not one word for all this geare.

_Chat._ By the masse, that I wyl!
I wil have the yong hore by the head, & the old trot by the
throte. 45

_Diccon._ Not one word, Dame Chat, I say; not one word, for my cote!

_Chat._ Shall such a begars brawle[684] as that, thinkest thou, make
me a theefe?
The pocks light on her hores sydes, a pestlence and a mischeefe!
Come out, thou hungry nedy bytche! O that my nails be short!

_Diccon._ Gogs bred, woman, hold your peace! this gere wil els passe
sport! 50
I wold not for an hundred pound this mater shuld be knowen,
That I am auctour of this tale, or have abrode it blowen!
Did ye not sweare ye wold be ruled, before the tale I tolde?
I said ye must all secret keepe, and ye said sure ye wolde.

_Chat._ Wolde you suffer, your selfe, Diccon, such a sort to revile
you, 55
With slaunderous words to blot your name, and so to defile you?

_Diccon._ No, Goodwife Chat, I wold be loth such drabs shulde blot my
name;
But yet ye must so order all that Diccon beare no blame.

_Chat._ Go to, then, what is your rede? say on your minde, ye shall
mee rule herein.

_Diccon._ Godamercye to Dame Chat! In faith thou must the gere
begin. 60
It is twenty pound to a goose turd, my gammer will not tary,
But hether ward she comes as fast as her legs can her cary,
To brawle with you about her cocke; for wel I hard Tib say
The Cocke was rosted in your house to brea[k]fast yesterday;
And when ye had the carcas eaten, the fethers ye out flunge, 65
And Doll, your maid, the legs she hid a foote depe in the dunge.

_Chat._ Oh gracyous God! my harte it[685] burstes!

_Diccon._ Well, rule your selfe a space;
And Gammer Gurton when she commeth anon into thys place,
Then to the queane, lets see, tell her your mynd and spare not.
So shall Diccon blamelesse bee; and then, go to, I care not! 70

_Chat._ Then, hoore, beware her throte! I can abide no longer.
In faith, old witch, it shalbe seene which of us two be stronger!
And, Diccon, but at your request, I wold not stay one howre.

_Diccon._ Well, keepe it till she be here, and then out let it powre!
In the meane while get you in, and make no wordes of this. 75
More of this matter within this howre to here you shall not misse,
Because I knew you are my friend, hide it I cold not, doubtles.
Ye know your harm, see ye be wise about your owne busines!
So fare ye well.[686]

_Chat._ Nay, soft, Diccon, and drynke! What, Doll, I say!
Bringe here a cup of the best ale; lets see, come quicly
a waye! 80

The ii Acte. The iii Sceane. C

HODGE. DICCON.

_Diccon._ Ye see, masters, that one end tapt of this my short devise!
Now must we broche thot[h]er to, before the smoke arise;
And by the time they have a while run, I trust ye need not crave
it.
But loke, what lieth in both their harts, ye ar like, sure, to
have it.

_Hodge._ Yea, Gogs soule, art alive yet? What, Diccon, dare ich
come? 5

_Diccon._ A man is wel hied to trust to thee; I wil say nothing but
mum;
But and ye come any nearer, I pray you see all be sweete!

_Hodge._ Tush, man, is Gammers neele found? that chould gladly weete.

_Diccon._ She may thanke thee it is not found, for if thou had kept
thy standing,
The devil he wold have fet it out, even, Hodge, at thy
commaunding. 10

_Hodge._ Gogs hart, and cold he tel nothing wher the neele might be
found?

_Diccon._ Ye folysh dolt, ye were to seek, ear we had got our ground;
Therefore his tale so doubtfull was that I cold not perceive it.

_Hodge._ Then ich se wel somthing was said, chope[687] one day yet to
have it.
But Diccon, Diccon, did not the devill cry "ho, ho, ho"? 15

_Diccon._ If thou hadst taryed where thou stoodst, thou woldest have
said so!

_Hodge._ Durst swere of a boke, chard him rore, streight after ich was
gon.
But tel me, Diccon, what said the knave? let me here it anon.

_Diccon._ The horson talked to mee, I know not well of what.
One whyle his tonge it ran and paltered of a cat, 20
Another whyle he stamered styll uppon a Rat;
Last of all, there was nothing but every word, Chat, Chat;
But this I well perceyved before I wolde him rid,
Betweene Chat, and the Rat, and the cat, the nedle is hyd.
Now wether Gyb, our cat, have eate it in her mawe, 25
Or Doctor Rat, our curat, have found it in the straw,
Or this Dame Chat, your neighbour, have stollen it, God hee
knoweth!
But by the morow at this time, we shal learn how the matter goeth.

_Hodge._ Canst not learn tonight, man? seest not what is here?

(_Pointyng behind to his torne breeches._)

_Diccon._ Tys not possyble to make it sooner appere. 30

_Hodge._ Alas, Diccon, then chave no shyft, but--least ich tary to
longe--
Hye me to Sym Glovers shop, theare to seeke for a thonge,
Therwith this breech to tatche and tye as ich may.

_Diccon._ To morow, Hodg, if we chaunce to meete, shall see what I
will say.

The ii Acte. The iiii Sceane.

DICCON. GAMMER.

_Diccon._ Now this gere must forward goe, for here my gammer commeth.
Be still a while and say nothing; make here a little romth.[688]

_Gammer._ Good Lord, shall never be my lucke my neele agayne to spye?
Alas, the whyle! tys past my helpe, where tis still it must lye!

_Diccon._ Now, Jesus! Gammer Gurton, what driveth you to this
sadnes? 5
I feare me, by my conscience, you will sure fall to madnes.

_Gammer._ Who is that? What, Diccon? cham lost, man! fye, fye!

_Diccon._ Mary, fy on them that be worthy! but what shuld be your
troble?

_Gammer._ Alas! the more ich thinke on it, my sorow it waxeth doble.
My goodly tossing[689] sporyars[690] neele chave lost ich wot not
where. 10

_Diccon._ Your neele? whan?

_Gammer._ My neele, alas! ich myght full ill it spare,
As God him selfe he knoweth, nere one besyde chave.

_Diccon._ If this be all, good Gammer, I warrant you all is save.

_Gammer._ Why, know you any tydings which way my neele is gone?

_Diccon._ Yea, that I do doubtlesse, as ye shall here anone. 15
A see a thing this matter toucheth, within these twenty howres,
Even at this gate, before my face, by a neyghbour of yours.
She stooped me downe, and up she toke a nedle or a pyn.
I durst be sworne it was even yours, by all my mothers kyn.

_Gammer._ It was my neele, Diccon, ich wot; for here, even by this
poste, 20
Ich sat, what time as ich up starte, and so my neele it loste.
Who was it, leive[691] son? speke, ich pray the, and quickly tell
me that!

_Diccon._ A suttle queane as any in thys towne, your neyghboure here,
Dame Chat.

_Gammer._ Dame Chat, Diccon? Let me be gone, chil thyther in post
haste.

_Diccon._ Take my councell yet or ye go, for feare ye walke in
wast. 25
It is a murrion crafty drab, and froward to be pleased;
And ye take not the better way, our nedle yet ye lose[692] it:
For when she tooke it up, even here before your doores,
"What, soft, Dame Chat" (quoth I), "that same is none of yours."
"Avant," quoth she, "syr knave! what pratest thou of that I
fynd? 30
I wold thou hast kist me I wot whear;" she ment, I know, behind;
And home she went as brag as it had ben a bodelouce,
And I after, as bold as it had ben the goodman of the house.
But there and ye had hard her, how she began to scolde!
The tonge it went on patins, by hym that Judas solde! 35
Ech other worde I was a knave, and you a hore of hores,
Because I spake in your behalfe, and sayde the neele was yours.

_Gammer._ Gogs bread, and thinks that that callet thus to kepe my
neele me fro?

_Diccon._ Let her alone, and she minds non other but even to dresse
you so.

_Gammer._ By the masse, chil rather spend the cote that is on my
backe! 40
Thinks the false quean by such a slygh[t] that chill my neele
lacke?

_Diccon._ Slepe[693] not you[r] gere, I counsell you, but of this take
good hede:
Let not be knowen I told you of it, how well soever ye spede.

_Gammer._ Chil in, Diccon, a cleene aperne to take and set before me;
And ich may my neele once see, chil, sure, remember the! 45

The ii Acte. The v Sceane.

DICCON.

_Diccon._ Here will the sporte begin; if these two once may meete,
Their chere, durst lay money, will prove scarsly sweete.
My gammer, sure, entends to be uppon her bones
With staves, or with clubs, or els with coble stones.
Dame Chat, on the other syde, if she be far behynde 5
I am right far deceived; she is geven to it of kynde.[694]
He that may tarry by it awhyle, and that but shorte,
I warrant hym, trust to it, he shall see all the sporte.
Into the towne will I, my frendes to vysit there,
And hether straight againe to see thend of this gere. 10
In the meane time, felowes, pype upp; your fiddles, I saie, take
them,
And let your freyndes here such mirth as ye can make them.

The iii. Acte. The i Sceane.

HODGE.

_Hodge._ Sym Glover, yet gramercy! cham meetlye well sped now,
Thart even as good a felow as ever kyste a cowe!
Here is a thonge[695] in dede, by the masse, though ich speake it;
Tom Tankards great bald curtal, I thinke, could not breake it!
And when he spyed my neede to be so straight and hard, Cii
Hays lent me here his naull,[696] to set the gyb forward,[697] 6
As for my gammers neele, the flyenge feynd go weete!
Chill not now go to the doore againe with it to meete.
Chould make shyfte good inough and chad a candels ende;
The cheefe hole in my breeche with these two chil amende. 10

The iii. Acte. The ii Sceane.

GAMMER. HODGE.

_Gammer._ Now Hodge, mayst nowe be glade, cha newes to tell thee;
Ich knowe who hais my neele; ich trust soone shalt it see.

_Hodge._ The devyll thou does! hast hard, Gammer, in deede, or doest
but jest?

_Gammer._ Tys as true as steele, Hodge.

_Hodge._ Why, knowest well where dydst leese it?

_Gammer._ Ich know who found it, and tooke it up! shalt see or it be
longe. 5

_Hodge._ Gods mother dere! if that be true, farwel both naule an
thong!
But who hais it, Gammer, say on; chould faine here it disclosed.

_Gammer._ That false fixen, that same Dame Chat, that counts her selfe
so honest.

_Hodge._ Who tolde you so?

_Gammer._ That same did Diccon the bedlam, which saw it done.

_Hodge._ Diccon? it is a vengeable knave, Gammer, tis a bonable[698]
horson, 10
Can do mo things then that, els cham deceyved evill:
By the masse, ich saw him of late cal up a great blacke devill!
O, the knave cryed "ho, ho!" he roared and he thundred,
And yead bene here, cham sure yould murrenly ha wondred.

_Gammer._ Was not thou afraide, Hodge to see him in this place? 15

_Hodge._ No, and chad come to me, chould have laid him on the face,
Chould have, promised him!

_Gammer._ But, Hodge, had he no hornes to pushe?

_Hodge._ As long as your two armes. Saw ye never Fryer Rushe[699]
Painted on a cloth, with a side long cowes tayle,
And crooked cloven feete, and many a hoked nayle? 20
For al the world, if I shuld judg, chould recken him his brother.
Loke, even what face Frier Rush had, the devil had such another.

_Gammer._ Now Jesus mercy, Hodg! did Diccon in him bring?

_Hodge._ Nay Gammer, here me speke, chil tel you a greater thing;
The devil (when Diccon had him, ich hard him wondrous weel) 25
Sayd plainly here before us, that Dame Chat had your neele.

_G_[_am_]_mer._ Then let us go, and aske her wherfore she minds to
kepe it;
Seing we know so much, tware a madnes now to slepe it.

_Hodge._ Go to her, Gammer; see ye not where she stands in her
doores?
Byd her geve you the neele, tys none of hers but yours. 30

The iii. Acte. The iii. Sceane.

GAMMER. CHAT. HODGE.

_Gammer._ Dame Chat, cholde praye the fair, let me have that is mine!
Chil not this twenty yeres take one fart that is thyne;
Therefore give me mine owne, and let me live besyde the.

_Chat._ Why art thou crept from home hether, to mine own doores to
chide me?
Hence, doting drab, avaunt, or I shall set the further! 5
Intends thou and that knave mee in my house to murther?

_Gammer._ Tush, gape not so on[700] me, woman! shalt not yet eate mee!
Nor all the frends thou hast in this shall not intreate mee!
Mine owne goods I will have, and aske the no[701] beleve,[702]
What, woman! pore folks must have right, though the thing you
aggreve. 10

_Chat._ Give thee thy right, and hang the up, with al thy baggers
broode!
What, wilt thou make me a theefe, and say I stole thy good?

_Gammer._ Chil say nothing, ich warrant thee, but that ich can prove
it well.
Thou fet my good even from my doore, cham able this to tel!

_Chat._ Dyd I, olde witche, steale oft[703] was thine? how should that
thing be knowen? 15

_Gammer._ Ich can no tel; but up thou tokest it as though it had ben
thine owne,

_Chat._ Mary, fy on thee, thou old gyb, with al my very hart!

_Gammer._ Nay, fy on thee, thou rampe, thou ryg, with al that take
thy parte!

_Chat._ A vengeance on those lips that laieth such things to my
charge!

_Gammer._ A vengeance on those callats hips, whose conscience is so
large! 20

_Chat._ Come out, hogge!

_Gammer._ Come out, hogge, and let have me right!

_Chat._ Thou arrant witche!

_Gammer._ Thou bawdie bitche, chil make thee cursse this night!

_Chat._ A bag and a wallet!

_Gammer._ A carte for a callet!

_Chat._ Why, wenest thou thus to prevaile?
I hold thee a grote, I shall patche thy coate! C iii

_Gammer._ Thou warte as good kysse my tayle!
Thou slut, thou kut, thou rakes, thou jakes! will not shame make
the hide [the]? 25

_Chat._ Thou skald, thou bald, thou rotten, thou glotton! I will no
longer chyd the,
But I will teache the to kepe home.

_Gammer._ Wylt thou, drunken beaste?

_Hodge._ Sticke to her, Gammer! take her by the head, chil warrant you
thys feast!
Smyte, I saye, Gammer! Byte, I say, Gammer! I trow ye wyll be
keene!
Where be your nayls? claw her by the jawes, pull me out bothe her
eyen. 30
Gogs bones, Gammer, holde up your head!

_Chat._ I trow, drab, I shall dresse thee.
Tary, thou knave, I hold the a grote I shall make these hands
blesse thee!
Take thou this, old hore, for amends, and lerne thy tonge well to
tame,
And say thou met at this bickering, not thy fellow but thy dame!

_Hodge._ Where is the strong stued hore? chil geare a hores marke! 35
Stand out ones way, that ich kyll none in the darke!
Up, Gammer, and ye be alyve! chil feygh[t] now for us bothe.
Come no nere me, thou scalde callet! to kyll the ich wer loth.

_Chat._ Art here agayne, thou hoddy peke? what, Doll! bryng me out my
spitte.

_Hodge._ Chill broche thee wyth this, bim father soule, chyll conjure
that foule sprete! 40
Let dore stand, Cock! why coms, in deede? kepe dore, thou horson
boy!

_Chat._ Stand to it, thou dastard, for thine eares, ise teche the, a
sluttish toye!

_Hodge._ Gogs woundes, hore, chil make the avaunte! take heede, Cocke,
pull in the latche!

_Chat._ Ifaith, sir Loose-breche, had ye taried, ye shold have found
your match!

_Gammer._ Now ware thy throte, losell, thouse paye[704] for al!

_Hodge._ Well said, Gammer, by my soule. 45
Hoyse her, souse her, bounce her, trounce her, pull out her throte
boule!

_Chat._ Comst behynd me, thou withered witch? and I get once on foote
Thouse pay for all, thou old tarlether! ile teach the what longs
to it!
Take the this to make up thy mouth, til time thou come by more!

_Hodge._ Up, Gammer, stande on your feete; where is the olde hore? 50
Faith, woulde chad her by the face, choulde cracke her callet
crowne!

_Gammer._ A Hodg, Hodg, where was thy help, when fixen had me downe?

_Hodge._ By the masse, Gammer, but for my staffe Chat had gone nye to
spyl you!
Ich think the harlot had not cared, and chad not com, to kill you.
But shall we loose our neele thus?

_Gammer._ No Hodge chwarde[705] lothe doo soo, 55
Thinkest thou chill take that at her hand? no, Hodg, ich tell
the no!

_Hodge._ Chold yet this fray wer wel take up, and our neele at home.
Twill be my chaunce else some to kil, wher ever it be or whome!

_Gammer._ We have a parson, Hodge, thou knoes, a man estemed wise,
Mast Doctor Rat; chil for hym send, and let me here his advise. 60
He will her shrive for all this gere, and geve her penaunce
strait;
Wese[706] have our neele, els Dame Chat comes nere within heaven
gate.

_Hodge._ Ye, mary, Gammer, that ich think best; wyll you now for him
send?
The sooner Doctor Rat be here, the soner wese ha an ende,
And here, Gammer! Dyccons devill, as iche remember well, 65
Of cat, and Chat, and Doctor Rat, a felloneus tale dyd tell.
Chold you forty pound, that is the way your neele to get againe.

_Gammer._ Chil ha him strait! Call out the boy, wese make him take the
payn.

_Hodge._ What, Co[c]ke, I saye! come out! What devill! canst not here?

_Cocke._ How now, Hodg? how does Gammer, is yet the wether cleare? 70
What wold chave[707] me to do?

_Gammer._ Come hether, Cocke, anon!
Hence swythe[708] to Doctor Rat, hye the that thou were gone,
And pray hym come speke with me, cham not well at ease.
Shalt have him at his chamber, or els at Mother Bees;
Els seeke him at Hob Fylchers shop, for as charde it reported, 75
There is the best ale in al the towne, and now is most resorted.

_Cocke._ And shall ich brynge hym with me, Gammer?

_Gammer._ Yea, by and by, good Cocke.

_Cocke._ Shalt see that shal be here anone, els let me have on the
docke.[709]

_Hodge._ Now, Gammer, shall we two go in, and tary for hys commynge?
What devill, woman! plucke up your hart, and leve of al this
glomming.[710] 80
Though she were stronger at the first, as ich thinke ye did find
her,
Yet there ye drest the dronken sow, what time ye cam behind her.

_Gammer._ Nay, nay, cham sure she lost not all, for, set thend to the
beginning,
And ich doubt not but she will make small bost of her winning.

The iii Acte. The iiii Sceane.

TYB. HODGE. GAMMER. COCKE.

_Tyb._ Se, Gammer, Gammer, Gib, our cat, cham afraid what she ayleth;
She standes me gasping behind the doore, as though her winde her
faileth:
Now let ich doubt what Gib shuld mean, that now she doth so dote.

_Hodge._ Hold hether! I chould twenty pound, your neele is in her
throte.
Grope her, ich say, me thinkes ich feele it; does not pricke your
hand? 5

_Gammer._ Ich can feele nothing.

_Hodge._ No, ich know thars not within this land
A muryner cat then Gyb is, betwixt the Tems and Tyne;
Shase as much wyt in her head almost as chave in mine!

_Tyb._ Faith, shase eaten some thing, that will not easily downe;
Whether she gat it at home, or abrode in the towne 10
Ich can not tell.

_Gammer._ Alas ich feare it be some croked pyn!
And then farewell Gyb! she is undone, and lost al save the skyn!

_Hodge._ Tys[711] your neele, woman, I say! Gogs soule! geve me a
knyfe,
And chil have it out[712] of her mawe, or els chal lose my lyfe!

_Gammer._ What! nay, Hodg, fy! Kil not our cat, tis al the cats we ha
now. 15

_Hodge._ By the masse, Dame Chat hays me so moved,[713] iche care not
what I kyll, ma[714] God a vowe!
Go to, then, Tyb, to this geare! holde up har tayle and take her!
Chil see what devil is in her guts! chil take the paines to rake
her!

_Gammer._ Rake a cat, Hodge! what woldst thou do?

_Hodge._ What, thinckst that cham not able?
Did not Tom Tankard rake his curtal toore[715] day standing in the
stable? 20

_Gammer._ Soft! be content, lets here what newes Cocke bringeth from
Maist Rat.

_Cocke._ Gammer, chave ben ther as you bad, you wot wel about what.
Twill not be long before he come, ich durst sweare of a booke.
He byds you see ye be at home, and there for him to looke.

_Gammer._ Where didst thou find him, boy? was he not wher I told
thee? 25

_Cocke._ Yes, yes, even at Hob Filchers house, by him that bought and
solde me!
A cup of ale had in his hand, and a crab lay in the fyer;
Chad much a do to go and come, al was so ful of myer.
And, Gammer, one thing I can tel, Hob Filchers naule was loste,
And Doctor Rat found it againe, hard beside the doore poste. 30
I chould a penny can say something your neele againe to set.

_Gammer._ Cham glad to heare so much, Cocke, then trust he wil not let
To helpe us herein best he can; therfore tyl time he come
Let us go in; if there be ought to get thou shall have some.

The iiii Acte. The i Sceane.[716] D

DOCTOR RAT. GAMMER GURTON.

_D. Rat._ A man were better twenty times be a bandog and barke,
Then here among such a sort be parish priest or clarke,
Where he shall never be at rest one pissing while a day,
But he must trudge about the towne, this way and that way;
Here to a drab, there to a theefe, his shoes to teare and rent, 5
And that which is worst of al, at every knaves commaundement!
I had not sit the space to drinke two pots of ale,
But Gammer Gurtons sory boy was straite way at my taile,
And she was sicke, and I must come, to do I wot not what!
If once her fingers end but ake, trudge! call for Doctor Rat! 10
And when I come not at their call, I only therby loose;
For I am sure to lacke therfore a tythe pyg or a goose.
I warrant you, when truth is knowen, and told they have their
tale,
The matter where about I come is not worth a halfpeny worth of
ale;
Yet must I talke so sage and smothe, as though I were a glosier 15
Els, or the yere come at an end, I shal be sure the loser.
What worke ye, Gammer Gurton? hoow? here is your frend M[ast] Rat.

_Gammer._ A! good M[ast] Doctor! cha trebled, cha trebled you, chwot
wel that!

_D. Rat._ How do ye, woman? be ye lustie, or be ye not well at ease?

_Gammer._ By gys, Master, cham not sick, but yet chave a
disease.[717] 20
Chad a foule turne now of late, chill tell it you, by gigs!

_D. Rat._ Hath your browne cow cast hir calfe, or your sandy sowe her
pigs?

_Gammer._ No, but chad ben as good they had as this, ich wot weel.

_D. Rat._ What is the matter?

_Gammer._ Alas, alas! cha lost my good neele!
My neele, I say, and wot ye what, a drab came by and spied it, 25
And when I asked hir for the same, the filth flatly denied it.

_D. Rat._ What was she that?

_Gammer._ A dame, ich warrant you! She began to scold and brawle--
Alas, alas! Come hether, Hodge! this wr[e]tche can tell you all.

The iiii. Acte. The ii Sceane.[718]

HODGE. DOCTOR RAT. GAMMER. DICCON. CHAT.

_Hodge._ God morow, Gaffer Vicar.

_D. Rat._ Come on, fellow, let us heare!
Thy dame hath sayd to me, thou knowest of all this geare;
Lets see what thou canst saie.

_Hodge._ Bym fay, sir, that ye shall.
What matter so ever there was done, ich can tell your maship
[all]:
My Gammer Gurton heare, see now, 5
sat her downe at this doore, see now;
And, as she began to stirre her, see now,
her neele fell to the floore, see now;
And while her staffe shee tooke, see now,
at Gyb her cat to flynge, see now, 10
Her neele was lost in the floore, see now.
Is not this a wondrous thing, see now?
Then came the queane Dame Chat, see now,
to aske for hir blacke cup, see now:
And even here at this gate, see now, 15
she tooke that neele up, see now:
My Gammer then she yeede,[719] see now,
her neele againe to bring, see now,
And was caught by the head, see now.
Is not this a wondrous thing, see now? 20
She tare my Gammers cote, see now,
and scratched hir by the face, see now;
Chad thought shad stopt hir throte, see now.
Is not this a wondrous case, see now?
When ich saw this, ich was wrothe,[720] see now, 25
and start betwene them twaine, see now;
Els ich durst take a booke othe, see now,
my gammer had bene slaine, see now.

_Gammer._ This is even the whole matter, as Hodge has plainly tolde;
And chould faine be quiet for my part, that chould. 30
But help us, good Master, beseech ye that ye doo:
Els shall we both be beaten and lose our neele too.

_D. Rat._ What wold ye have me to doo? tel me, that I were gone;
I will do the best that I can, to set you both at one.
But be ye sure Dame Chat hath this your neele founde? 35

_Gammer._ Here comes the man that see hir take it up of the ground.
Aske him your selfe, Master Rat, if ye beleve not me:
And help me to my neele, for Gods sake and Saint Charitie!

_D. Rat._ Come nere, Diccon, and let us heare what thou can expresse.
Wilt thou be sworne thou seest Dame Chat this womans neele have? 40

_Diccon._ Nay, by S. Benit, wil I not, then might ye thinke me rave!

_Gammer._ Why, didst not thou tel me so even here? canst thou for
shame deny it?

_Diccon._ I, mary, Gammer; but I said I would not abide by it.

_D. Rat._ Will you say a thing, and not sticke to it to trie it?

_Diccon._ "Stick to it," quoth you, Master Rat? mary, sir, I defy
it! 45
Nay, there is many an honest man, when he suche blastes hath
blowne
In his freindes eares, he woulde be loth the same by him were
knowne.
If such a toy be used oft among the honestie,
It may beseme a simple man of your and my degree.

_D. Rat._ Then we be never the nearer, for all that you can tell! 50

_Diccon._ Yea, mary, sir, if ye will do by mine advise and counsaile.
If Mother Chat se al us here, she knoweth how the matter goes;
Therfore I red you three go hence, and within keepe close,
And I will into Dame Chats house, and so the matter use,
That or[721] you cold go twise to church I warant you here
news. 55
She shall look wel about hir, but, I durst lay a pledge,
Ye shal of Gammers neele have shortly better knowledge.

_Gammer._ Now, gentle Diccon, do so, and, good sir, let us trudge.

_D. Rat._ By the masse, I may not tarry so long to be your judge.

_Diccon._ Tys but a little while, man; what! take so much paine! 60
If I here no newes of it, I wil come sooner againe.

_Hodge._ Tary so much, good Master Doctor, of your gentlenes!

_D. Rat._ Then let us hie us inward, and, Diccon, speede thy busines.

_Diccon._[722] Now, sirs, do you no more, but kepe my counsaile juste,
And Doctor Rat shall thus catch some good, I trust. 65
But Mother Chat, my gossop, talke first with-all I must:
For she must be chiefe captaine to lay the Rat in the dust.
God deven, dame Chat, in faith, and wel met in this place!

_Chat._ God deven, my friend Diccon; whether walke ye this pace?

_Diccon._ By my truth, even to you, to learne how the world goeth. 70
Hard ye no more of the other matter? say me, now, by your troth!

_Chat._ O yes, Diccon, here the old hoore, and Hodge, that great
knave--
But, in faith, I would thou hadst sene,--O Lord, I drest them
brave!
She bare me two or three souses behind in the nape of the necke,
Till I made hir olde wesen to answere againe, "kecke!" 75
And Hodge, that dirty dastard, that at hir elbow standes,--
If one pair of legs had not bene worth two paire of hands,
He had had his bearde shaven if my nayles wold have served, Dij
And not without a cause, for the knave it well deserved.

_Diccon._ By the masse, I can the thank, wench, thou didst so wel
acquite the! 80

_Chat._ And thadst scene him, Diccon, it wold have made the beshite
the
For laughter. The horsen dolt at last caught up a club,
As though he would have slaine the master devil Belsabub.
But I set him soone inwarde.

_Diccon._ O Lorde, there is the thing
That Hodge is so offended! that makes him start and flyng! 85

_Chat._ Why? makes the knave any moyling, as ye have seen or hard?

_Diccon._ Even now I sawe him last, like a mad man he farde,
And sware by heven and hell he would awreake his sorowe,
And leve you never a hen on live, by eight of the clock to morow;
Therfore marke what I say, and my wordes see that ye trust. 90
Your hens be as good as dead, if ye leave them on the ruste.

_Chat._ The knave dare as well go hang himself, as go upon my ground.

_Diccon._ Wel, yet take hede I say, I must tel you my tale round.
Have you not about your house, behind your furnace or leade[723]
A hole where a crafty knave may crepe in for neade? 95

_Chat._ Yes, by the masse, a hole broke down, even within these two
dayes.

_Diccon._ Hodge he intends this same night to slip in there awayes.

_Chat._ O Christ! that I were sure of it! in faith he shuld have his
mede!

_Diccon._ Watch wel, for the knave wil be there as sure as is your
crede.
I wold spend my selfe a shilling to have him swinged well. 100

_Chat._ I am as glad as a woman can be of this thing to here tell.
By Gogs bones, when he commeth, now that I know the matter,
He shal sure at the first skip to leape in scalding water,
With a worse turne besides; when he will, let him come.

_Diccon._ I tell you as my sister; you know what meaneth "mum"!
[724]Now lacke I but my doctor to play his part againe. 106
And lo where he commeth towards, peradventure to his paine!

_D. Rat._ What good newes, Diccon, fellow? is Mother Chat at home?

_Diccon._ She is, syr, and she is not, but it please her to whome;
Yet did I take her tardy, as subtle as she was. 110

_D. Rat._ The thing that thou wentst for, hast thou brought it to
passe?

_Diccon._ I have done that I have done, be it worse, be it better,
And Dame Chat at her wyts ende I have almost set her.

_D. Rat._ Why, hast thou spied the neele? quickly, I pray thee, tell!

_Diccon._ I have spyed it, in faith, sir, I handled my selfe so
well; 115
And yet the crafty queane had almost take my trumpe.
But or all came to an ende, I set her in a dumpe.

_D. Rat._ How so, I pray thee, Diccon?

_Diccon._ Mary, syr, will ye heare?
She was clapt downe on the backside, by Cocks mother dere,
And there she sat sewing a halter or a bande, 120
With no other thing save Gammers nedle in her hande.
As soone as any knocke, if the filth be in doubte,
She needes but once puffe, and her candle is out:
Now I, sir, knowing of every doore the pin,
Came nycely, and said no worde, till time I was within; 125
And there I sawe the neele, even with these two eyes;
Who ever say the contrary, I will sweare he lyes.

_D. Rat._ O Diccon, that I was not there then in thy steade!

_Diccon._ Well, if ye will be ordred, and do by my reade,
I will bring you to a place, as the house standes, 130
Where ye shall take the drab with the neele in hir handes.

_D. Rat._ For Gods sake do so, Diccon, and I will gage my gowne
To geve thee a full pot of the best ale in the towne.

_Diccon._ Follow me but a litle, and marke what I will say;
Lay downe your gown beside you; go to, come on your way! 135
Se ye not what is here? a hole wherin ye may creepe
Into the house, and sodenly unwares among them leape;
There shal ye finde the bitchfox and the neele together.
Do as I bid you, man, come on your wayes hether!

_D. Rat._ Art thou sure, Diccon, the swil-tub standes not here
aboute? 140

_Diccon._ I was within my selfe, man, even now, there is no doubt.
Go softly, make no noyse; give me your foote, Sir John.
Here will I waite upon you, tyl you come out anone.

_D. Rat._ Helpe, Diccon! out, alas! I shal be slaine among them!

_Diccon._ If they give you not the nedle, tel them that ye will hang
them. 145
Ware that! Hoow, my wenches! have ye caught the Foxe
That used to make revel among your hennes an Cocks?
Save his life yet for his order, though he susteine some paine.
Gogs bread! I am afraide they wil beate out his braine.

_D. Rat._ Wo worth the houre that I came heare! 150
And wo worth him that wrought this geare!
A sort of drabs and queanes have me blest--
Was ever creature halfe so evill drest?
Who ever it wrought, and first did invent it
He shall, I warrant him, erre long repent it! 155
I will spend all I have without my skinne Diii
But he shall be brought to the plight I am in!
Master Bayly, I trow, and he be worth his eares,
Will snaffle these murderers and all that them beares.[725]
I will surely neither byte nor suppe 160
Till I fetch him hether, this matter to take up.

The v. Acte. The i. Sceane.

MASTER BAYLY. DOCTOR RAT.

_Bayly._ I can perceive none other, I speke it from my hart,
But either ye ar in al the fault, or els in the greatest part.

_D. Rat._ If it be counted his fault, besides all his greeves,
When a poore man is spoyled and beaten among theeves,
Then I confess my fault herein, at this season; 5
But I hope you will not judge so much against reason.

_Bayly._ And, me thinkes, by your owne tale, of all that ye name,
If any plaid the theefe, you were the very same.
The women they did nothing, as your words make probation,
But stoutly withstood your forcible invasion. 10
If that a theefe at your window to enter should begin,
Wold you hold forth your hand and helpe to pull him in?
Or you wold kepe him out? I pray you answere me.

_D. Rat._ Mary, kepe him out, and a good cause why!
But I am no theefe, sir, but an honest learned clarke. 15

_Bayly._ Yea, but who knoweth that, when he meets you in the darke?
I am sure your learning shines not out at your nose!
Was it any marvaile though the poore woman arose
And start up, being afraide of that was in hir purse?
Me thinke you may be glad that you[r] lucke was no worse. 20

_D. Rat._ Is not this evill ynough, I pray you, as you thinke?

(_Showing his broken head._)

_Bayly._ Yea, but a man in the darke, if[726] chaunces do wincke,
As soone he smites his father as any other man,
Because for lacke of light discerne him he ne can.
Might it not have ben your lucke with a spit to have
ben slaine? 25

_D. Rat._ I think I am litle better, my scalpe is cloven to the
braine.
If there be all the remedy, I know who beares the k[n]ockes.

_Bayly._ By my troth, and well worthy besides to kisse the stockes!
To come in on the backe side, when ye might go about!
I know non such, unles they long to have their braines knockt
out. 30

_D. Rat._ Well, wil you be so good, sir, as talke with Dame Chat,
And know what she intended? I aske no more but that.

_Bayly._ Let her be called, fellow,[727] because of Master Doctor,
I warrant in this case she wil be hir owne proctor;
She will tel hir owne tale in metter or in prose, 35
And byd you seeke your remedy, and so go wype your nose.

The v. Acte. The ii Sceane.