DICCON. Well, keep it in, till she be here, and then out let it pour. In the meanwhile get you in, and make no words of this; More of this matter within this hour to hear you shall not miss. Because I know you are my friend, hide it I could not doubtless: Ye know your harm, see ye be wise about your own business. So fare ye well-- CHAT. Nay, soft, Diccon, and drink: what, Doll, I say, Bring here a cup of the best ale, let's see, come quickly away. THE SECOND ACT. THE THIRD SCENE. HODGE, DICCON. DICCON. Ye see, masters, that one end tapp'd of this my short device, Now must we broach t'other too, before the smoke arise; And by the time they have a while run, I trust ye need not crave it, But look what lieth in both their hearts, ye are like sure to have it. HODGE. Yea, Gog's soul, art alive yet? what Diccon, dare ich come? DICCON. A man is well hied to trust to thee, I will say nothing but mum. But, and ye come any nearer, I pray you see all be sweet. HODGE. Tush, man, is Gammer's nee'le found? that chould gladly weet.[230] DICCON. She may thank thee it is not found, for if you had kept thy standing, The devil he would have fet it out--ev'n, Hodge, at thy commanding. HODGE. Gog's heart! and could he tell nothing where the nee'le might be found? DICCON. Ye foolish dolt, ye were to seek, ere we had got our ground; Therefore his tale so doubtful was, that I could not perceive it. HODGE. Then ich see well something was said, chope one day yet to have it. But Diccon, Diccon, did not the devil cry, ho, ho, ho?[231] DICCON. If thou hadst tarried where thou stood'st, thou wouldst hove said so. HODGE. Durst swear of a book, cheard him roar, straight after ich was gone; But tell me, Diccon, what said the knave, let me hear it anon. DICCON. The whoreson talked to me, I know not well of what: One while his tongue it ran, and paltered[232] of a cat, Another while he stammered still upon a rat; Last of all there was nothing but every word, Chat, Chat; But this I well perceived, before I would him rid, Between Chat, and the rat, and the cat, the needle is hid: Now whether Gib our cat hath eat it in her maw, Or Doctor Rat our curate hath found it in the straw, Or this dame Chat your neighbour hath stolen it, God he knoweth, But by the morrow at this time we shall learn how the matter goeth. HODGE. Canst not learn to-night, man, seest not what is here? [_Pointing behind to his torn breeches._ DICCON. 'Tis not possible to make it sooner appear. HODGE. Allas, Diccon, then chave no shift; but lest ich tarry too long, [Will] hie me to Sim Glover's shop, there to seek for thong, Therewith this breech to thatch and tie, as ich may.