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God deven, dame Chat, in faith, and well met in this place.

Chat. God deven, my friend Diccon, whether walke ye this pace?

Dic. By my truth even to you, to learne how the world goeth.

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 her olde wesen to answere again, kecke, And Hodge, that dirty dastard, that at hir elbow standes,

If one paire of legs had not bene worth two paire of hands,

He had had his bearde shaven, if my nayles wold have served,

And not without a cause, for the knave it well deserved.

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

Chat. And th'adst seene 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 devill, Belsabub;

But I set him soone inwarde.

Dic. O Lord! there is the thing,

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

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

Dic. Even now I sawe him last, like a mad man he farde,

And sware by heaven and hell, he would a wreake his sorrowe,

And leve you never a hen alive by eight of the clocke to morrow:

Therfore marke what I say, and my wordes see

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I

where a crafty knave may crepe in for neade?

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

Dic. 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. 80

Dic. Watch wel, for the knave will be there as sure as is your crede;

wold spend myselfe a shilling to have him swin

ged well.

Chat. I am as glad as a woman can be of this thing to here tell;

By Gog's bones, when he cometh, 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.

Dic. I tell you as my sister, you know what

meaneth mum.

Now lacke I but my Doctor, to play his part againe.

And lo, where he cometh towards, peradventure to his paine.

Dr Rat. What good news, Diccon? fellow, is mother Chat at home?

Dic. She is syr, and she is not; but it please her to whome:

Yet dyd I take her tardy, as subtle as she was. Dr Rat. The thing that thou went'st for, hast thou brought it to passe?

Dic. I have done that I have done, be it worse, be it better.

And dame Chat at her wyt's end, I have almost set her.

Dr Rat. Why, hast thou spied the neele? quickly I pray thee tell.

Dic. I have spyed it in faith, sir, I handled my selfe so well;

And yet the crafty queane had almost take my trumpe;

But or all came to an ende, I set her in a dumpe,
Dr Rat. How so, I pray thee, Diccon ?
Dic. Mary, syr, will ye heare?

79 Can-So the edition of 1575.

so Mede-Reward. Obsolete. It is a word used by Spenser, Shakespeare, and the chief of our ancient writers.

She was clapt downe on the backside, by Cock's | Do as I bid you, man, come on your wayes hether.

mother dere,

And there she sat sewing a halter, or a bande, With no other thing, but Gammer's nedle in her hande:

As soone as any knocke, if the filth be in doubte, She needes but one 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,

And there I sawe the neele, even with these two eyes.

Who ever say the contrary, I will sweare he lyes. Dr Rat. Ò Diccon, that I was not there then in thy steade!

Dic. Well, if you will be ordered, and do by my reade,

I will bring you to a place, as the house standes, Where ye shall take the drab with the neele in her handes.

Dr Rat. For God's sake, do so, Diccon, and
I will gage my gowne,

To geve thee a full pot of the best ale in the towne. Dic. Follow me but a little, and marke what I say,

Lay downe your gown beside you; go to, come on your way:

Se ye not what is here? a hole wherein ye may creepe

Into the house, and sodenly unwares among them leape;

There shal ye finde the bich-fox, and the neele together.

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

Dic. 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. Dr Rat. Helpe, Diccon, out alas, I shal be slain among them.

Dic. If they give you not the nedle, tel them that ye will hang them.

Ware that, hoow my wenches, have ye caught the foxe,

That used to make revel among your hennes and Cocks?

Save his life yet for his order, though he susteine some paine.

Gog's bread, I am afraide they will beat out his

braine.

Dr Rat. Wo worth the houre that I came here; And wo worth him that wrought this geare, A sort of drabs and queans have me blest, Was ever creature halfe so evill drest? Who ever it wrought, and first did invent it, He shall, I warrant him, ere long repent it. I will spend all I have without my skinne, 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 bears:

I will surely neither byte nor suppe,

Till I fetch him hether, this matter to take up.

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Because, for lacke of light, descerne him he ne|Nay ye have other minions in the other end of the

can.

Might it not have ben your lucke with a spit to have ben slaine?

Dr Rat. I thinke I am litle better, my scalpe is cloven to the braine :

If there be all the remedy, I know who beares the knocks. $3

Bay. 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.

Dr Rat. Well, wil you be so good, sir, as talke with dame Chat,

And know what she intended, I aske no more but that.

Bay. Let her be called, fellow, because of mas

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towne,

Where ye were liker to catch such a blow Then any where els, as farre as I know. Bay. Be like then, master doctor, your 84 stripe there ye got not.

Dr Rat. 85 Thinke you I am so mad, that where I was bet I wot not?

Will ye beleve this queane, before she hath try'd it?

It is not the first dede she hath done, and afterward denide it.

Chat. What, man, will you say I broke your head?

Dr Rat. How canst thou prove the contrary? Chat. Nay, how provest thou that I did the deade?

Dr Rat. To plainly, by St Mary. This profe, I trow, may serve, though I no word spoke. [Showing his broken head. Chat. Bicause thy head is broken, was it I that

it broke?

I saw thee, Rat, I tell thee, not once within this fortnight.

Dr Rat. No, mary, thou sawest me not; for why? thou hadst no light;

But I felt thee for al the darke, beshrew thy smothe cheekes!

And thou groped me, this wil declare any day this six weekes.

[Showing his heade. Bay. Answere me to this, M. Rat, when caught you this harme of yours?

Dr Rat. A while ago, sir, God he knoweth ; within les then these two houres. Bay. Dame Chat, was there none with you (confesse I faith) about that season? What woman, let it be what it wil, 'tis neither felony nor treason.

Chat. Yes, by my faith, master Bayly, there was a knave not farre,

Who caught one good philup on the brow with a dorebarre.

And well was he worthy, as it seemed to mee: But what is that to this man, since this was not hee?

Bay. Who was it then? let's here.
Dr Rat. Alas, sir, aske you that?

83 Kockes.

84 You.

85 Tinke you I am so mad, that where I was bet I wot not.-i. e. I know not. So A. 2, S. 4: My tossing sporyar's neele, chave lost it wot not where.

A. 3. S. 3:

Gammer, chave ben there as you bad, you wot wel about what.

Massinger's Unnatural Combat, A. 5. S. 2:

Wily Beguiled:

- this will keep me safe yet
From being pulled by the sleeve, and bid remember
The thing I wot of.

"I was once in good comfort to have cosen'd a wench: and wot'st thou what I told her?".

Is it not made plain inough by the owne mouth | An egge is not so ful of meate, as she is ful of

of dame Chat?

The time agreeth, my head is broken, her tong

cannot lye;

Onely upon a bare nay, she saith it was not I. Chat. No mary was it not indeede, ye shal here by, this one thing.

This afternoone a friend of mine, for good-will gave me warning,

And bad me wel loke to my ruste, and al my ca pons pennes;

For if I toke not better heede, a knave wold have my hennes.

Then I, to save my goods, toke so much pains as him to watch;

And as good fortune served me, it was my chance him for to catch.

What strokes he bare away, or other what was his gaines,

I wot not, but sure I am he had something for

his paines.

Bay. Yet telles thou not who it was. Chat. Who it was? A false theefe,

lyes:

When she hath plaid this pranke, to excuse all this geare,

She layeth the fault on such a one, as I know was not there.

Chat. Was he not theare? loke on his pate; that shalbe his witnes.

Dr Rat. I wold my head were half so hole, I wold seeke no redresse.

Bay. God blesse you, Gaminer Gurton..
Gam. God dylde you, master mine.
Bay. Thou hast a knave within thy house,
Hodge, a servant of thine.

They tel me that busie knave is such a filching one, That hen, pig, goose, or capon, thy neighbour can have none.'

Gam. By God cham much ameved, to heare any such reporte:

Hodge was not wont, ich trow, to have him in that sort.

Chat. A theevisher knave is not on live, more filching, nor more false;

That came like a false foxe, my pullain 36 to kil 88 Many a truer man than he hase hanged up by

and mischeefe.

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the halse.

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86 Pullain-Poultry. So, in Fitzherbert's Boke of Husbandry: "Gyve thy poleyn-meate in the morning, &c." Again, in Your five Gallants, by Middleton: "And to see how pittifully the pullen will looke, it makes me after relent, and turne my anger into a quick fire to roast them."

87 Cullyon-A base contemptible fellow. So, in Tom Tytler and his Wife, 1661, p. 19:—

"It is an old saying, praise at the parting.

I think I have made the cullion to wring.

I was not beaten so black and blew,
But I am sure he has as many new.'

Wily beguiled:-" But to say the truth, she had little reason to take a cullion lug loaf, milksop slave, when she may have a lawyer, a gentleman that stands upon his reputation in the country." Massinger's Guardian, A. 2. S. 4:

"Long live Severino,

And perish all such cullions as repine,
At his new monarchy."

--:

And Bobadil, in Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour, A. 3. S. 5. when beating Cob, exclaims :

"You base cullion you."

88 Many a truer man than he hase hanged up by the halse-That is, many an honester man than he, has been hanged up by the neck. True, in the language of the times, signified honest; and a true man was generally so called in opposition to a thief.-See the First Part of Henry IV. Again, Hodge says, " Ich defy them al that dare it say; cham as true as the best." Hals, in the Glossary to Douglas, is thus explained, "The hause, the throat, or neck, al AS and Isl. hals collum, inde to hals or hawse to embrace, collo dare brachia circum."

And chould not take the pains to hang him up before to-morrow.

Chat. What have I stolen from the or thine, thou ilfavor'd olde trot?

Gam. A great deale more (by Gods blest) then chever by the got,

That thou knowest wel, I neade not say it.
Bay. Stoppe there I say,

And tel me here, I pray you, this matter by the way:

How chaunce Hodge is not here? him wold I faine have had.

Gam. Alas, sir, heel be here anon; ha be handled to bad.

Chat. Master Bayly, sir, ye be not such a foole, wel I know,

But ye perceive by this lingring there is a pad in the straw.

[Thinking that HODGE his head was broke, and that GAMMER wold not let him come before them.

Gam. Chil shew you his face, ich warrant the, -lo now where he is!

Bay. Thy neighbour's hens thou takest, and playes the two legged foxe;

89 Come on, fellow; it is tolde me thou art a shrew I wysse;

Their chikens, and their capons to, and now and

then their cocks.

Hodge. Ich defy them al that dare it say; cham as true as the best.

Bay. Wart not thou take within this houre in dame Chat's hen's nest?

Hodge. Take there! no master, chould not do't for a house ful of gold.

Chat. Thou or the devil in thy cote; sweare this I dare be bold.

Dr Rat. Sweare me no swearing, quean, the devill he geve the sorrow;

Al is not worth a gnat, thou canst sweare till to

morrow.

Where is the harme he hath? shew it; by God's bread,

Ye beat him with a witnes, but the stripes light on my head.

Hodge. Bet me! Gog's blessed body, chold first ich trow have burst the?

Ich thinke, and chad my hands, loose callet, chould have crust the.

I

Chat. Thou shitten knave, I trow, thou know est the ful weight of my fist.

am fowly deceived, onles thy head and my
doore-bar kyste.

Hodge. Hold thy chat, whoore; thou criest so
loude, can no man els be hard?
Chat. Well, knave, and I had the alone, I wold
surely rap thy costard. 90

Bay. Sir, answer me to this, is thy head whole
or broken?

Chat. Yea, master Bayly, blest be every good token.

Hodge. Is my head whole? ich warrant you, 'tis neither scurvy nor scald:

What, you foule beast, does think 'tis either pild or bald?

Nay, ich thanke God, chil not for al that thou maist spend,

That chad one scab on my narse as brode as thy finger's end.

Bay. Come nearer heare.
Hodge. Yes, that iche dare.

Bay. By our lady, here is no harme; Hodge's head is hole ynough, for al dame Chat's charme.

Chat. By Gog's blest, however the thing he clockes or smolders,

I know the blowes he bare awaie, either with head or shoulders.

(Camest thou not, knave, within this houre, creping into my pens,

And there was caught within my hous, groping among my hens?

Hodge. A plage both on thy hens and thee! a carte, whore, a carte. Chould I were hanged as hie as a tree, and chware as false as thou art.

Geve my Gammer again her washical thou stole away in thy lap.

Gam. Yea, master Bayly, there is a thing you know not on mayhap:

This drab she kepes away my good, (the devil he might her snare,)

Ich pray you, that ich might have a right action on her.

Chat. Have I thy good, old filth, or any such old sowe's?

I am as true, I wold thou knew, as skin betwene thy browes.

89 Come on, fellow; it is tolde me thou art a shrew I wysse-The word shrew at present is wholly confined to the female sex. It here appears to have been equally applied to the male, and signifies naught or wicked.—See Barret's Alvearie, voce Shrewd.

90 Costard-i. e. the head. So, in Hicke Scorner :

"I wyll rappe you on the costard with my horne."

Mr Steevens's Note on Love's Labour Lost, A. 3. S. 1.

Again, in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub, A. 2. S. 2 :

"Do you mutter! sir, snorle this way,
That I may hear and answer what you say,
With my school dagger 'bout your costard, sir."

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