Part 29

_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!