_Hodge._ What, the great devil, Diccon, I say?
_Diccon._ Yea, in good faith, that is the way.
Fet with some pretty charm.
_Hodge._ Soft, Diccon, be not too hasty yet, By the ma.s.s, for ich begin to sweat!
Cham afraid of some harm.
_Diccon._ Come hither, then, and stir thee not One inch out of this circle plat, But stand as I thee teach.
_Hodge._ And shall ich be here safe from their claws?
_Diccon._ The master-devil with his long paws Here to thee cannot reach-- Now will I settle me to this gear.
_Hodge._ I say, Diccon, hear me, hear!
Go softly to this matter!
_Diccon._ What devil, man? art afraid of nought?
_Hodge._ Canst not tarry a little thought Till ich make a courtesy of water?
_Diccon._ Stand still to it; why shouldest thou fear him?
_Hodge._ Gog"s sides, Diccon, me-think ich hear him!
And tarry, chall mar all!
_Diccon._ The matter is no worse than I told it.
_Hodge._ By the ma.s.s, cham able no longer to hold it!
Too bad! ich must beray the hall!
_Diccon._ Stand to it, Hodge! stir not, you wh.o.r.eson!
What devil, be thine a.r.s.e-strings brusten?
Thyself a while but stay, The devil (I smell him) will be here anon.
_Hodge_. Hold him fast, Diccon, cham gone!
Chill not be at that fray!
THE SECOND ACT. THE SECOND SCENE.
DICCON, CHAT.
_Diccon._ Fie, s.h.i.tten knave, and out upon thee!
Above all other louts, fie on thee!
Is not here a cleanly prank, But thy matter was no better, Nor thy presence here no sweeter, To fly I can thee thank.
Here is a matter worthy glosing, Of Gammer Gurton"s needle losing, And a foul piece of wark!
A man I think might make a play, And need no word to this they say Being but half a clerk.
Soft, let me alone, I will take the charge This matter further to enlarge Within a time short.
If ye will mark my toys, and note, I will give ye leave to cut my throat If I make not good sport.
Dame Chat, I say, where be ye? within?
_Chat._ Who have we there maketh such a din?
_Diccon._ Here is a good fellow, maketh no great danger.
_Chat._ What, Diccon? Come near, ye be no stranger.
We be fast set at trump, man, hard by the fire; Thou shalt set on the king, if thou come a little nigher.
_Diccon._ Nay, nay, there is no tarrying; I must be gone again.
But first for you in counsel I have a word or twain.
_Chat._ Come hither, Doll! Doll, sit down and play this game, And as thou sawest me do, see thou do even the same.
There is five trumps besides the queen, the hindmost thou shalt find her.
Take heed of Sim Glover"s wife, she hath an eye behind her!
Now, Diccon, say your will.
_Diccon._ Nay, soft a little yet; I would not tell it my sister, the matter is so great.
There I will have you swear by Our Dear Lady of Boulogne, Saint Dunstan, and Saint Dominic, with the three Kings of Cologne, That ye shall keep it secret.
_Chat._ Gog"s bread! that will I do!
As secret as mine own thought, by G.o.d and the devil too!
_Diccon._ Here is Gammer Gurton, your neighbour, a sad and heavy wight: Her goodly fair red c.o.c.k at home was stole this last night.
_Chat._ Gog"s soul! her c.o.c.k with the yellow legs, that nightly crowed so just?
_Diccon._ That c.o.c.k is stolen.
_Chat._ What, was he fet out of the hen"s roost?
_Diccon._ I cannot tell where the devil he was kept, under key or lock; But Tib hath tickled in Gammer"s ear, that you should steal the c.o.c.k.
_Chat._ Have I, strong wh.o.r.e? by bread and salt!--
_Diccon._ What, soft, I say, be still!
Say not one word for all this gear.
_Chat._ By the ma.s.s, that I will!
I will have the young wh.o.r.e by the head, and the old trot by the throat.
_Diccon._ Not one word, dame Chat, I say; not one word for my coat!
_Chat._ Shall such a beggar"s brawl as that, thinkest thou, make me a thief?
The pox light on her wh.o.r.e"s sides, a pestilence and mischief!
Come out, thou hungry needy b.i.t.c.h! O, that my nails be short!