Hodge. Up, gammer, stand on your feet; where is the old whore?
Faith, would chad her by the face, chould crack her callet crown!

Gammer. Ah, Hodge, Hodge, where was thy help, when vixen had me down?

Hodge. By the mass, gammer, but for my staff Chat had gone nigh to spill you!
Ich think the harlot had not cared, and chad not come, to kill you.
But shall we lose our nee'le thus?

Gammer. No, Hodge, chwere loth to do so.
Thinkest thou chill take that at her hand? no, Hodge, ich tell thee no.

Hodge. Chould yet this fray were well take up, and our nee'le at home,
'Twill be my chance else some to kill, wherever it be or whom!

Gammer. We have a parson, Hodge, thou knows, a man esteemed wise,
Mast Doctor Rat; chill for him send, and let me hear his advice.
He will her shrive for all this gear, and give her penance straight;
Wese have our nee'le, else dame Chat comes ne'er within heaven-gate.

Hodge. Yea, marry, gammer, that ich think best: will you now for him send?
The sooner Doctor Rat be here, the sooner wese ha' an end.
And here, gammer! Diccon's devil, as ich remember well,
Of cat, and Chat, and Doctor Rat, a felonious tale did tell.
Chold you forty pound, that is the way your nee'le to get again.

Gammer. Chill ha' him straight! Call out the boy, wese make him take the pain.

Hodge. What, Cock, I say! come out! What devil! can'st not hear?

Cock. How now, Hodge? how does gammer, is yet the weather clear?
What would chave me to do?

Gammer. Come hither, Cock, anon!
Hence swith to Doctor Rat, hie thee that thou were gone,
And pray him come speak with me, cham not well at ease.
Shalt have him at his chamber, or else at Mother Bee's;
Else seek him at Hob Filcher's shop, for as cheard it reported,
There is the best ale in all the town, and now is most resorted.

Cock. And shall ich bring him with me, gammer?

Gammer. Yea, by and by, good Cock.

Cock. Shalt see that shall be here anon, else let me have on the dock.

Hodge. Now, gammer, shall we two go in, and tarry for his coming?
What devil, woman! pluck up your heart, and leave off all this glooming.
Though she were stronger at the first, as ich think ye did find her,
Yet there ye dress'd the drunken sow, what time ye came behind her.

Gammer. Nay, nay, cham sure she lost not all, for, set th'end to the beginning,
And ich doubt not but she will make small boast of her winning.