Doctor Rat.

Hath your browne cow caft hir calfe, or your fandy fowe her pigs?

Gammer.

No, but chad ben as good as they had, as this, ich wot weel. Doctor Rat.

What is the matter?

Gammer.

Alas, alas, cha loft my good neele.

My neele, I fay, and wot ye what? a drab came by and spied

it,

And when I asked hir for the fame, the filth flatly denied it.

What was the that.

Doctor Rat.

Gammer.

A dame, ich warrant you: fhe began to scold and brawle; Alas, alas, come hether, Hodge; this wretche can tell you all.

THE FOURTH ACTE. THE SECOND SCEANE.

Hodge. Doctor Rat. Gammer, Diccon. Chat.

Hodge.

"GOD morow, gaffer Vicar.

Doctor Rat.

Come on fellow, let us heare.

Thy dame hath fayd to me, thou knoweft of all this geare,
Let's fee what thou canst faie?

By'm fay, fir, that ye shall,

Hodge.

What matter foever here was done, ich can tell your maship:

them, by jye a little better than they are wont to doo, these frouning "philofophers, &c." Sig. G 2.

"unto whome hee

Again, in Euphues and his England, 1582, p. 5: "replyed, fhoaring up his eyes by Jis fonne I accompt the cheere good "which mainteineth health, and the fervauntes honeft whome I finde 66 faythfull."

My

now,

And while her staffe fhe tooke, fee now,
at Gyb her cat to flynge, fee now,
Her neele was loft in the floore, see now;
is not this a wondrous thing, fee now?
Then came the queane dame Chat, fee now,
to afke for hir blacke cup, fee now:
And even here at this gate, fee now,
fhe tooke that neele up, fee now.
My gammer then the yeede 76, fee now,
hir neele again to bring, fee now,
And was caught by the head, fee now;
is not this a wondrous thing, fee now ?
She tare my gammer's cote, fee now,

and fcratched hir by the face, fee now,
Chad thought fh'ad stopt hir throte, fee now;
is not this a wondrous case, see now?
When ich faw this, ich was wrothe, fee now,
and ftart betwene them twaine, fee now,
Els ich durft take a booke othe, fee now,
my gammer had bene flaine, fee now.
Gammer.

This is even the whole matter, as Hodge has plainly tolde. And chould fain be quiet for my part, that chould. But helpe us good mafter, befeech ye that ye doo, Els fhall we both be beaten, and lose our neele too.

Doctor Rat.

What wold ye have me to doo? tell me, that I were gone, I do the best that I can, to fet you both at one.

But be ye fure dame Chat hath this your neele found?

76 My gammer then the yeede, fee now,] She yeede, i. e. She went. So Chaucer :

"For alli yede out at one ere,

"That in that other the did lere."

The word is alfo ufed by Spenfer and Fairfax.

D 3

Romaunt of the Rofe.

Gammer.

Gammer.

Here comes the man, that fee her take it up of the ground, Afke him your felfe, master Rat, if ye beleve not me,

77 And helpe me to my neele, for God's fake, and faint Charitie.

Doctor Rat.

Come nere, Diccon, and let us heare what thou can expreffe. Wilt thou be fworne, feest dame Chat this woman's neele have?

Diccon.

Nay, by S. Benit wil I not, then might ye

Gammer.

thinke 78 me rave.

Why did't not thou tel me fo even here? canst thou for

fhame deny it?

Diccon.

I mary, gammer: but I faid I wold not abide by it.

Doctor Rat.

Will you fay a thing, and not sticke to it to trie it?

Diccon.

Stick to it, quoth you, master Rat? mary, fir, I defy it. Nay, there is many an honest man, when he fuche blastes hath

blowne

In his friende's ears, he woulde be loth the fame by him were

knowne :

If fuch a toy be ufed oft among the honeftie,

It may beseme a simple man, of your and my degree.
Doctor Rat.

Then we be never the nearer, for all that you can tell.

Diccon.

Yes, mary fir, if ye will do by mine advife and counfaile. If mother Chat fe al us here, fhe knowe how the matter goes, Therfore I red you three go hence, and within keepe close;

77 And helpe me to my neele, for God's fake, and faint Charitie.] Ophelia fings:

By Gis and by St. Charity, &c.

On which Mr. Steevens obferves, that St. Charity is a known faint among the Roman Catholicks. Spenfer mentions her, Eclog. 5. 255: "Ah dear Lord and sweet Saint Charity!"

Again, in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601 : "Therefore fweet Master for Saint Charity."

Note on Hamlet, A. 4. S. 5.

78 rave.] Barret, in his Alvearie, explains rave, "to talke like a "madde bodie."

And

And I will into dame Chat's houfe, and fo the matter use,

That or ye cold go twife to church, I warant you here news.
She shall looke wel about hir, but I durft lay a pledge,
Ye fhal of gammer's neele have shortly better knowledge.
Gammer.

Now, gentle Diccon, do fo; and, good fir, let us trudge.
Doctor Rat.

By the maffe, I may not tary fo long to be your judge.
Diccon.

Tys but a little while man, what take so much paine;
If I here no newes of it, I will come fooner againe.

Hodge.

Tary fo much, good mafter Doctor, of your gentlenes.

Doctor Rat.

Then let us hie inward, and Diccon speede thy bufines.
Diccon.

Now, firs, do you no more, but kepe my counfaile jufte,
And doctor Rat fhall thus catch fome good, I trust ;
But mother Chat, my goffop, talke first with all I muft,
For the must be chiefe captaine to lay the Rat in the duft.
God deven, dame Chat, in faith, and well 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. Hard ye no more of the other matter, fay me now by your troth?

Chat.

O yes, Diccon: here the old hoore, and Hodge that great

knave.

But in faith, I would thou hadit fene, O Lord! I dreft them brave.

She bare me two or three foufes behind, in the nape of the necke,

Till I made hir olde wefen to anfwere again, kecke.

And Hodge, that dirty daftard, that at hir elbow standes,
If one paire of legs had not bene worth two paire of hands,
He had had his bearde fhaven, if my nayles wold have ferved,
And not without a caufe, for the knave it well deferved.

Diccon.

By the maffe, I con 79 the thank, wench, thou didst so wel acquite the.

Chat.

And th'adft feene him, Diccon, it wold have made the beshite

the

For laughter the horfen dolt at last caught up a club,

As though he would have flaine the mafter devill, Belsabub;
But I fet him foone inwarde.

Diccon.

O Lord! there is the thing,

That Hodge is fo offended, that makes him starte and flyng.

Chat.

Why, makes the knave any moyling, as ye have seene or hard?

Diccon.

Even now I fawe him last, like a mad man he farde, And fware by heaven and hell, he would a wreake his forrowe, Ad leve you never a hen alive by eight of the clocke to morow : Therfore marke what I fay, and my wordes fee that ye truft, Your hens be as good as dead, if ye leave them on the rufte.

Chat.

The knave dare as wel go hang himself, as go upon my ground.

Diccon.

Wel, yet take hede, I fay, I must tel you my tale round: Have you not about your house, behind your furnace or leade, A hole where a crafty knave may crepe in for neade?

Chat.

Yes, by the maffe, a hole broke down even within these two dayes.

Diccon.

Hodge, he intends this fame night to flip in there awayes.

Chat.

O Chrift, that I were fure of it! in faith he fhuld have his

80 mede.

79 can] So the edition of 1575. See Note, p. 28.

80 mede.] Reward. Obfolete. It is a word used by Spenser, Shakspeare,

and the chief of our ancient writers.