_Diccon._ "Stick to it," quoth you, Master Rat? marry, sir, I defy it! Nay, there is many an honest man, when he such blasts hath blown In his friend's ears, he would be loth the same by him were known. If such a toy be used oft among the honesty, It may [not] beseem a simple man of your and my degree. _Doctor Rat._ Then we be never the nearer, for all that you can tell! _Diccon._ Yea, marry, sir, if ye will do by mine advice and counsel. If mother Chat see all us here, she knoweth how the matter goes; Therefore I reed you three go hence, and within keep close, And I will into dame Chat's house, and so the matter use, That ere ye could go twice to church I warrant you hear news. She shall look well about her, but, I durst lay a pledge, Ye shall of gammer's nee'le have shortly better knowledge. _Gammer._ Now, gentle Diccon, do so; and, good sir, let us trudge. _Doctor Rat._ By the mass, I may not tarry so long to be your judge. _Diccon._ 'Tis but a little while, man; what! take so much pain! If I hear no news of it, I will come sooner again. _Hodge._ Tarry so much, good Master Doctor, of your gentleness! _Doctor Rat._ Then let us hie us inward, and, Diccon, speed thy business. _Diccon._ Now, sirs, do you no more, but keep my counsel just, And Doctor Rat shall thus catch some good, I trust; But mother Chat, my gossip, talk first withal I must, For she must be chief captain to lay the Rat in the dust. THE FOURTH ACT. THE THIRD SCENE. DICCON, CHAT. _Diccon._ Good even, dame Chat, in faith, and well-met in this place! _Chat._ Good even, my friend Diccon; whither walk ye this pace? _Diccon._ By my truth, even to you, to learn how the world goeth. Heard ye no more of the other matter? say me now, by your troth! _Chat._ O yes, Diccon, hear the old whore and Hodge, that great knave-- But, in faith, I would thou hadst seen--O Lord, I drest them brave! She bare me two or three souses behind in the nape of the neck, Till I made her old weasand to answer again, "keck!" And Hodge, that dirty dastard, that at her elbow stands-- If one pair of legs had not been worth two pair of hands, He had had his beard shaven if my nails would have served, And not without a cause, for the knave is well deserved. _Diccon._ By the mass, I can thee thank, wench, thou didst so well acquit thee! _Chat._ And th' adst seen him, Diccon, it would have made thee beshit thee For laughter. The whoreson dolt at last caught up a club, As though he would have slain the master-devil, Belsabub. But I set him soon inward. _Diccon._ O Lord, there is the thing! That Hodge is so offended! that makes him start and fling! _Chat._ Why? makes the knave any moiling, as ye have seen or heard?