TIB. TALK. So, sirrah,[69] now this gear beginneth for to frame. M. MUMBL. Thanks to God, though your work stand still, your tongue is not lame. TIB. TALK. And though your teeth be gone, both so sharp and so fine, Yet your tongue can renne on pattens as well as mine. M. MUMBL. Ye were not for nought named Tib Talkapace. TIB. TALK. Doth my talk grieve you? Alack, God save your grace! M. MUMBL. I hold a groat, ye will drink anon for this gear. TIB. TALK. And I will not pray you the stripes for me to bear. M. MUMBL. I hold a penny, ye will drink without a cup. TIB. TALK. Whereinsoe'er ye drink, I wot ye drink all up. AN. ALYFACE. By Cock,[70] and well sewed, my good Tibet Talkapace. TIB. TALK. And e'en as well knit, my nown Annot Alyface. R. ROISTER (_aside_). See what a sort she keepeth, that must be my wife: Shall not I, when I have her, lead a merry life? TIB. TALK. Welcome, my good wench, and sit here by me just. AN. ALYFACE. And how doth our old beldame here, Madge Mumblecrust? TIB. TALK. Chide and find fault, and threaten to complain. AN. ALYFACE. To make us poor girls shent[71] to her is small gain. M. MUMBL. I did neither chide, nor complain, nor threaten. R. ROISTER (_aside_). It would grieve my heart to see one of them beaten. M. MUMBL. I did nothing but bid her work, and hold her peace. TIB. TALK. So would I, if you could your clattering cease; But the devil cannot make old trot hold her tongue. AN. ALYFACE. Let all these matters pass, and we three sing a song: So shall we pleasantly both the time beguile now, And eke despatch all our works, ere we can tell how. TIB. TALK. I shrew them that say nay, and that shall not be I. M. MUMBL. And I am well content. TIB. TALK. Sing on then by and by. R. ROISTER (_aside_). And I will not away, but listen to their song; Yet Merrygreek and my folks tarry very long. Tib., An., and Margery do sing here.[72] _Pipe, merry Annot, &c._ _Trilla, Trilla, Trillary._ _Work, Tibet; work, Annot; work, Margery;_ _Sew, Tibet; knit, Annot; spin, Margery._ _Let us see who will win the victory._ TIB. TALK. This sleeve is not willing to be sewed, I trow. A small thing might make me all in the ground to throw. Then they sing again. _Pipe, merry Annot, &c._ _Trilla, Trilla, Trillary._ _What, Tibet! what, Annot! what, Margery!_ _Ye sleep, but we do not, that shall we try,_ _Your fingers be numbed, our work will not lie._ TIB. TALK. If ye do so again--well, I would advise you nay: In good sooth, one stop more, and I make holyday! They sing the third time. _Pipe, merry Annot, &c._ _Trilla, Trilla, Trillary._ _Now, Tibbet; now, Annot; now, Margery;_ _Now whippet apace for the maistry:_ _But it will not be, our mouth is so dry_.