University of Virginia Library

The fyrst Acte.

The fyrst Sceane.

Diccon.
Diccon
Many a myle haue I walked, diners and sundry waies
And many a good mās house haue I bin at in my daies
Many a gossips cup in my tyme haue I tasted
And many a brache and spyt, haue I both turned and basted
Many a peece of bacon haue I had out of thir balkes
In ronnyng ouer the countrey, with long and were walkes,
Yet came my foote neuer, within those doore cheekes,
To seeke flesh or fysh, Garlyke, Onyons or Leekes,
That euer I saw a sorte, in such a plyght
As here within this house appereth to my syght,
There is howlynge and scowlyng, all cast in adumpe,
With whewling and pewling, as though they had lost a trump
Syghing and sobbing, they weepe and they wayle
I maruell in my mynd, what the deuill they ayle
The olde Trot syts groning, with alas and alas,
And Tib wringes her hands, and takes on in worse case
With poore Cocke theyr boye, they be dryuen in such fyts
I feare mee the folkes be not well in theyr wyts,
Aske them what they ayle, or who brought them in this staye?
They aunswer not at all, but alacke and welaway
Whan I saw it booted not, out at doores I hyed mee
And caught a slyp of Bacon, when I saw that none spyed mee,
Which I intend not far hence, vnles my purpose fayle
Shall serue for a shoinghorne to draw on two pots of ale.

The second Sceane.

Hodge. Diccon.
Hodge
See so cham arayed with dablynge in the durt
She that set me to ditchinge, ich wold she had the squrt
Was neuer poore soule that such a life had?
Gogs bones thys vylthy glaye hase drest mee to bad
Gods soule, see how this stuffe teares
Iche were better to bee a Bearward and set to keepe Beares
By the Masse here is a gasshe, a shamefull hole in deade
And one stytch teare furder, a man may thruste in his heade.

Diccon
By my fathers soule Hodge, if I shulde now besworne
I can not chuse but say thy breech is foule be torne,
But the next remedye in such a case and hap
Is to plaunche on a piece, as brode as thy cap.

Hodge
Gogs soule man, tis not yet two dayes fully ended
Synce my dame Gurton (chem sure) these breches amended,
But cham made suce a drudge to trudge at euery neede
Chwold rend it though it were stitched what sturdy pacthreede,

Diccon
Hoge, let thy breeches go, and speake and tell mee soone
What deuill ayleth gāmer gurton, & Tib her mayd to frowne,

Hodge
Tush man thart deceyued, tys theyr dayly looke,
They coure so ouer ye coles, theyr eyes be bleard with smooke,

Diccon
Nay by the masse, I perfectly perceiued as I came hether
That eyther Tib & her dame hath ben by the eares to gether
Or els as great a matter as thou shalt shortly see.

Hodge
Now iche besceche our Lord they neuer better agree.

Diccon
By gogs soule there they syt as still as stones in the streite
As though they had ben takē with fairies or els wt some il sprite

Hodge
Gogs hart, I durst haue layd my cap to a crowne
Chwould lerne of some prancome as sone as ich came to town.

Diccon
Why Hodge art thou inspyred? or dedst thou therof here?

Hodge
Nay, but ich saw such a wonder as ich saw nat this .vii. yere
Tome Tannkards Cow (be gogs bones) she set me vp her saile
And flynging about his halfe aker fysking with her taile,
As though there had ben in her ars a swarme of Bees,
And chad not cryed tphrowh hoore, shead lept out of his Lees.

Diccon
Why Hodg lies the connyng in Tom tankards cowes taile?

Hodge
Well ich chaue hard some say such tokens do not fayle,
But cast yu not till in faith Diccon, why she frownes or wher at
Hath no man stolne her Ducks or Henes, or gelded gyb her Cat

Diccon
What deuyll can I tell man, I cold not haue one word
They gaue no more hede to my talk then thou woldst to a lorde

Hodge
Iche can not styll but muse, what meruaylous thinge it is
Chyll in and know my selfe what matters are amys.

Diccon.
Then farewell hodge a while, synce thou doest inward hast,
For I will into the good wyfe Chats, to feele how the ale dooth taste.

The thyrd Sceane.

Hodge. Tyb.
Hodge
Cham agast by the masse, ich wot not what to do
Chad nede blesse me well before ich go them to
Perchaunce some felon sprit may haunt our house indeed,
And then chwere but at noddy to venter where cha no neede

Tib,
Cham worse then mad by the masse to be at this staye
Cham chyd, cham blamd, and beaton all thoures on the daye,
Lamed and hunger storued, prycked vp all in Iagges
Hauyng no patch to hyde my backe, saue a few rotten ragges.

Hodge
I say Tyb, if thou be Tyb, as I trow sure thou bee,
What deuyll make a doe is this, betweene our dame and thee.

Tyb.
Gogs breade Hodg thou had a good turne thou warte not here this whyle.
It had ben better for some of vs to haue ben hence a myle
My Gammer is so out of course, and frantyke all at ones
That Cocke our boy, & I poore wench, haue felt it on our bones.

Hodge
What is the matter, say on Tib wherat she taketh so on.

Tyb.
She is vndone she sayth (alas,) her ioye and life is gone
If shee here not of some comfort, she is sayth but dead
Shall neuer come within her lyps, one inch of meate ne bread.

Hodge
Byr Ladie cham not very glad, to see her in this dumpe
Cholde a noble her stole hath fallen, & shee hath broke her rumpe

Tyb.
Nay and that were the worst, we wold not greatly care
For bursting of her huckle bone, or breakyng of her Chaire,
But greatter, greater, is her grief, as hodge we shall all feele.

Hodge
Gogs woundes Tyb, my gammer has neuer lost her Neele?

Tyb.
Her Neele.

Hodge
Her Neele?

Tib.
Her neele by him that made me, it is true Hodge I tell thee.

Hodge
Gogs sacrament, I would she had lost, tharte out of her bellie
The Deuill or els his dame, they ought her sure a shame
How a murryon came this chaunce, (say Tib) vnto our dame?

Tyb
My gāmer sat her downe on her pes, & bad me reach thy breeches
And by & by, a vengeāce in it or she had take two stitches
To clap a clout vpon thine ars, by chaunce a syde she leares
And gyb our cat in the milke pan, she spied ouer head and eares
Ah hore, out thefe, she cryed aloud, & swapt the breches downe
Up went her staffe, and out leapt gyb, at doors into the towne
And synce that time was neuer wyght, cold set their eies vpō it
Gogs malison chaue Cocke and I, byd twenty times light on it.

Hodge
And is not thē my breches sewid vp, to morow yt I shuld were

Tyb
No in faith hodge thy breeches lie, for al this neuer the nere.

Hodge
Now a vēgeance light on al ye sort, yt better shold haue kept it,
The cat, the house, and tib our maid, yt better shold haue swept it
Se where she cōmeth crawling, come on in twenty deuils way
Ye haue made a fayre daies worke, haue you not? pray you say.

The .iiii. Sceane.

Gammer. Hodge. Tyb. Cocke.
Gāmer
A Las hoge, alas I may well cursse and ban
This daie that euer I saw it, with gyb and the mylke pan
For these and ill lucke to gather, as knoweth Cocke my boye
Haue stacke away my deare neele, and robd me of my ioye
My fayre longe strayght neele that was myne onely treasure
The fyrst day of my sorow is, and last end of my pleasure.

Hodge
Might ha kept it when ye had it, but fooles will be fooles styll.
Lose that is vast in your handes, ye neede not but ye will.

Gāmer
Go hie thee tib, and run thou hoore, to thend here of the towne
Didst cary out dust in thy lap, seeke wher thou porest it downe
And as thou sawest me roking, in the asshes where I morned
So see in all the heape of dust, thou leaue no straw vnturned.

Tyb
That chal gammer swythe and tyte, and sone be here agayne,

Gāmer
Tib stoope & loke downe to ye ground to it, & take some paine.

Hodge
Here is a prety matter, to see this gere how it goes
By gogs soule I thenk you wold loes your ars, and it were loose
Your neele lost, it is pitie you shold lack care and endlesse sorow
Gogs deth how shall my breches be sewid, shall I go thus to morow

Gāmer
Ah hodg, hodg, if that ich cold find my neele by the reed
Chould sow thy breches ich promise ye, wt full good double threed
And set a patch on either knee, shuld last this monethes twaine
Now god & good Saint Sithe I praye, to send it home againe.

Hodge
Wherto serued your hands & eies, but this your neele to kepe
What deuill had you els to do, ye kept ich wot no sheepe
Cham faine a brode to dyg and delue, in water, myre and claye
Sossing and possing in the durte, styll from day to daye
A hundred thinges that be abrode, cham set to see them weele
And foure of you syt idle at home, and can not keepe a neele.

Gāmer
My neele alas ich lost it hodge, what time ich me vp hasted
To saue the milke set vp for the, which gib our cat hath wasted

Hodge
The Deuill he burst both gib, and Tib, with all the rest
Cham alwayes sure of the worst end, who euer haue the best
Where ha you ben fidging abrode, since you your neele lost

Gāmer
Within the house, and at the dore, sitting by this same post
Wher I was loking a long howre, before these folks came here,
But welaway, all was in vayne, my neele is neuer the nere.

Hodge
Set me a candle, let me seeke and grope where euer it bee
Gogs hart ye be so folish (ich thinke) you knowe it not when you it see

Gāmer
Come hether Cocke, what Cocke I say.

Cocke.
Howe Gammer.

Gāmer
Goe hye thee soone, and grope behynd the old brasse pan,
Whych thing when thou hast done
Ther shalt thou fynd an old shooe, wher in if thou looke well
Thou shalt fynd lyeng an inche of a whyte tallow candell,
Lyght it, and brynge it tite awaye.

Cocke.
That shalbe done anone.

Gāmer
Nay tary hodg til thou hast light, and then weele seke ech one.

Hodge
Cum away ye horson boy, are ye a slepe: ye must haue a crier.

Cocke.
Ich cannot get the candel light here is almost no fier.

Hodge
Chil hold the a peny chil make ye come if yt ich may catch thine eares
Art deffe thou horson boy? cocke I say, why canst not heares.

Gāmer
Beate hym not Hodge but help the boy and come you two together.

The .v. Sceane.

Gammer. Tyb, Cocke. Hodge.
Gāmer
How now Tyb, quycke lets here, what newes thou hast brought hether.

Tyb.
Chaue tost and tumbled yender heap our & ouer againe
And winowed it through my fingers, as mē wold winow grain
Not so much as a hens turd but in pieces I tare it
Or what so euer clod or clay I found, I did not spare it
Lokyng within and eke without, to fynd your neele (alas)
But all in vaine and without help, your neele is where it was.

Gāmer
Alas my neele we shall neuer meete, adue, adue for aye.

Tyb.
Not so gammer, we myght it fynd if we knew where it laye.

Cocke.
Gogs crosse Gammer if ye will laugh looke in but at the doore
And see how Hodg lieth tomblynge and tossing amids the floure
Rakyng there some fayre to find amonge the asshes dead
Where there is not one sparke, so byg as a pyns head,
At last in a darke corner two sparkes he thought he sees
Which where indede nought els but Gyb our cats two eyes
Puffe quod hodg thinking therby to haue fyre without doubt
With that Gyb shut her two eyes, & so the fyre was out
And by and by them opened, euen as they were before,
With that the sparkes appered euen as they had done of yore,
And euen as hodge blew the fire as he did thincke
Gyb as she felt the blast strayght way began to wyncke,
Tyll Hodge fell of swering, as came best to his turne,
The fier was sure bewicht, and therfore wold not burne:
At last Gyb vp the stayers, among the old postes and pinnes,
And Hodge he hied him after till broke were both his shinnes:
Cursynge and swering othes, were neuer of his makyng,
That Gyb wold fyre the house, if that shee were not taken.

Gāmer
See here is all the thought that the foolysh Urchyn taketh,
And Tyb me thinke at his elbowe almost as mery maketh
This is all the wyt ye haue when others make their mone,
Come downe Hodge, where art thou and let the Cat alone.

Hodge
Gogs harte, help and come vp, Gyb in her tayle hath fyre.
And is like to burne all if shee get a lytle hier:
Cum downe (quoth you,) nay then you might count me a patch,
The house cometh downe on your heads if it take ons ye thatch.

Gāmer
It is the cats eyes foole that shineth in the darke.

Hodge
Hath the Cat do you thinke in euery eye a sparke.

Gāmer
No, but they shyne as lyke fyre as euer man see.

Hodge
By the masse and she burne all, yoush beare the blame for mee

Gāmer
Cum downe & help to seeke here our neele that it were found
Downe Tyb on tho knees I say, downe Cocke to the ground.
To God I make a vowe, and so to good Saint Anne
A candell shall they haue a peece, get it where I can,
If I may my neele find in one place or in other.

Hodge
Now a vengeaunce on gib lyght, on gyb and gybs mother
And all the generacyon of Cats both far and nere
Looke on the ground horson thinke thou the neele is here.

Cocke.
By my trouth gammer me thought your neele here I saw
But when my fyngers toucht it, I felt it was a straw.

Tyb
See Hodge whats tys, may it not be within it,

Hodge
Breake it foole with thy hand and see and thou canst fynde it.

Tyb
Nay breake it you Hodge accordyng to your word.

Hodge
Gogs sydes, fye it styncks: it is a Cats tourd,
It were well done to make thee eate it by the masse.

Gāmer
This matter amendeth not my neele is still where it wasse
Our candle is at anende let vs all in quight
And come another tyme, when we haue more lyght