_Gammer._ No, master, no indeed; for then he should have lied. My cock is, I thank Christ, safe and well a-fine.
_Chat._ Yea, but that rugged colt, that whore, that Tib of thine, Said plainly thy cock was stol'n, and in my house was eaten. That lying cut is lost that she is not swinged and beaten, And yet for all my good name it were a small amends! I pick not this gear, hear'st thou, out of my fingers' ends; But he that heard it told me, who thou of late didst name, Diccon, whom all men knows, it was the very same.
_Baily._ This is the case: you lost your nee'le about the doors, And she answers again, she hase no cock of yours; Thus in your talk and action, from that you do intend, She is whole five mile wide, from that she doth defend. Will you say she hath your cock?
_Gammer._ No, marry, sir, that chill not.
_Baily._ Then there lieth all the matter.
_Gammer._ Soft, master, by the way! Ye know she could do little, and she could not say nay.
_Baily._ Yea, but he that made one lie about your cock-stealing, Will not stick to make another, what time lies be in dealing. I ween the end will prove this brawl did first arise Upon no other ground but only Diccon's lies.
_Chat._ Though some be lies, as you belike have espied them, Yet other some be true, by proof I have well tried them.
_Baily._ What other thing beside this, dame Chat?
_Chat._ Marry, sir, even this. The tale I told before, the self-same tale it was his; He gave me, like a friend, warning against my loss, Else had my hens be stol'n each one, by God's cross! He told me Hodge would come, and in he came indeed, But as the matter chanced, with greater haste than speed. This truth was said, and true was found, as truly I report.
_Baily._ If Doctor Rat be not deceived, it was of another sort.
_Doctor Rat._ By God's mother, thou and he be a couple of subtle foxes! Between you and Hodge I bear away the boxes. Did not Diccon appoint the place, where thou should'st stand to meet him?
_Chat._ Yes, by the mass, and if he came, bad me not stick to spit him.
_Doctor Rat._ God's sacrament! the villain knave hath dress'd us round about! He is the cause of all this brawl, that dirty shitten lout! When Gammer Gurton here complained, and made a rueful moan, I heard him swear that you had gotten her needle that was gone; And this to try, he further said, he was full loth; howbeit He was content with small ado to bring me where to see it. And where ye sat, he said full certain, if I would follow his reed, Into your house a privy way he would me guide and lead, And where ye had it in your hands, sewing about a clout, And set me in the back-hole, thereby to find you out: And whiles I sought a quietness, creeping upon my knees, I found the weight of your door-bar for my reward and fees. Such is the luck that some men gets, while they begin to mell. In setting at one such as were out, minding to make all well.