HODGE. Is my head whole? ich warrant you, 'tis neither scurvy nor scald: What, you foul beast, does think 'tis either pild or bald?[300] Nay, ich thank God, chill not for all that thou may'st spend, That chad one scab on my narse as broad as thy finger's end. BAILY. Come nearer here. HODGE. Yes, that ich dare. BAILY. By our lady, here is no harm: Hodge's head is whole enough, for all dame Chat's charm. CHAT. By Gog's blest,[301] however the thing he cloaks or smolders, I know the blows he bare away either with head or shoulders. Camest thou not, knave, within this hour, creeping into my pens, And there was caught within my house, groping among my hens? HODGE. A plague both on thy hens and thee! a cart, whore, a cart! Chould I were hanged as high as a tree, and ich were as false as thou art. Give my gammer again her washical[302] thou stole away in thy lap. GAMMER. Yea, Master Baily, there is a thing you know not on, mayhap: This drab she keeps 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 sow's? I am as true, I would thou knew, as [the] skin between thy brows.[303] GAMMER. Many a truer hath been hanged, though you escape the danger. CHAT. Thou shalt answer (by God's pity) for this thy foul slander. BAILY. Why, what can you charge her withal? to say so ye do not well. GAMMER. Marry, a vengeance to her heart, the whore has stol'n my nee'le. CHAT. Thy needle, old witch! how so? it were alms thy soul to knock; So didst thou say the other day, that I had stol'n thy cock. And roasted him to my breakfast, which shall not be forgotten: The devil pull out thy lying tongue, and teeth that be so rotten. GAMMER. Give me my nee'le; as for my cock, chould be very loth, That chould here tell he should hang on thy false faith and troth. BAILY. Your talk is such, I can scarce learn who should be most in fault. GAMMER. Yet shall ye find no other wight, save she, by bread and salt. BAILY. Keep ye content a while, see that your tongues ye hold; Methinks you should remember, this is no place to scold. How knowest thou, Gammer Gurton, dame Chat thy needle had? GAMMER. To name you, sir, the party, chould not be very glad. BAILY. Yea, but we must needs hear it, and therefore say it boldly. GAMMER. Such one as told the tale full soberly and coldly, Even he that looked on, will swear on a book, What time this drunken gossip my fair long nee'le up took: Diccon (Master) the bedlam, cham very sure ye know him. BAILY. A false knave, by God's pity! ye were but a fool to trow him. I durst aventure well the price of my best cap, That when the end is known, all will turn to a jape.[304] Told he not you that besides she stole your cock that tide?