As Gammer Gurton with many a wide stitch Sat piecing and patching of Hodge her man's breech, By chance or misfortune, as she her gear toss'd, In Hodge's leather breeches her needle she lost. When Diccon the Bedlam had heard by report That good Gammer Gurton was robbed in this sort, He quietly persuaded with her in that stound Dame Chat, her dear gossip, this needle had found; Yet knew she no more of this matter, alas! Than knoweth Tom, our clerk, what the priest saith at mass. Hereof there ensued so fearful a fray, Mas. Doctor was sent for, these gossips to stay, Because he was curate, and esteemed full wise; Who found that he sought not, by Diccon's device. When all things were tumbled and clean out of fashion, Whether it were by fortune, or some other constellation, Suddenly the needle Hodge found by the pricking. And drew it out of his buttock, where he felt it sticking. Their hearts then at rest with perfect security, With a pot of good ale they struck up their plaudity. THE FIRST ACT. THE FIRST SCENE. _Diccon._ Many a mile have I walked, divers and sundry ways, And many a good man's house have I been at in my days; Many a gossip's cup in my time have I tasted, And many a broach and spit have I both turned and basted, Many a piece of bacon have I had out of their balks, In running over the country, with long and weary walks; Yet came my foot never within those door cheeks, To seek flesh or fish, garlick, onions, or leeks, That ever I saw a sort in such a plight As here within this house appeareth to my sight. There is howling and scowling, all cast in a dump, With whewling and puling, as though they had lost a trump. Sighing and sobbing, they weep and they wail; I marvel in my mind what the devil they ail. The old trot sits groaning, with alas and alas! And Tib wrings her hands, and takes on in worse case. With poor Cock, their boy, they be driven in such fits, I fear me the folks be not well in their wits. Ask them what they ail, or who brought them in this stay, They answer not at all, but "alack!" and "wellaway!" When I saw it booted not, out at doors I hied me, And caught a slip of bacon, when I saw none spied me, Which I intend not far hence, unless my purpose fail, Shall serve me for a shoeing horn to draw on two pots of ale. THE FIRST ACT. THE SECOND SCENE. HODGE, DICCON. _Hodge._ See! so cham arrayed with dabbling in the dirt! She that set me to ditching, ich would she had the squirt! Was never poor soul that such a life had. Gog's bones! this vilthy glay has dress'd me too bad! Gog's soul! see how this stuff tears! Ich were better to be a bearward, and set to keep bears! By the mass, here is a gash, a shameful hole indeed! And one stitch tear further, a man may thrust in his head.