_Tuc._ Now, now, mother Bunch how dost thou? what dost frowne Queene Gwyniuer? dost wrinckle? what made these paire |1180| of Shittle-cockes heere? what doe they fumble for? Ile ha none of these Kites fluttering about thy carkas, for thou shalt bee my West Indyes, and none but trim Tucca shall discouer thee. _Min._ Discouer me? discouer what thou canst of me. _Tuc._ What I can? thou knowst what I can discouer, but I will |1185| not lay thee open to the world. _Min._ Lay me open to the world? _Tuc._ No I will not my moldie decay’d Charing-crosse, I will not. _Mi._ Hang thee patch-pannell, I am none a thy Charing-crosse: I scorne to be Crosse to such a scab as thou makst thy selfe. |1190| _Tuc._ No, tis thou makst me so, my Long Meg a Westminster, thou breedst a scab, thou-- _Min._ I? dam thee filthie Captaine, dam thy selfe. _Tuc._ My little deuill a Dow-gate, Ile dam thee, (thou knowst my meaning) Ile dam thee vp; my wide mouth at Bishops-gate. |1195| _Min._ Wod I might once come to that damming. _Tuc._ Why thou shalt, my sweet dame Annis a cleere thou shalt, for Ile drowne my selfe in thee; I, for thy loue, Ile sinke, I, for thee. _Min._ So thou wilt I warrant, in thy abhominable sinnes; Lord, |1200| Lord, howe many filthy wordes hast thou to answere for. _Tuc._ Name one Madge-owlet, name one, Ile answer for none; my words shall be foorth comming at all times, & shall answer for them selues; my nimble Cat-a-mountaine: they shall Sislie Bum-trincket, for Ile giue thee none but Suger-candie wordes, I |1205| will not Pusse: goody Tripe-wife, I will not. _Min._ Why dost call mee such horrible vngodlie names then? _Tuc._ Ile name thee no more Mother Red-cap vpon paine of death, if thou wilt Grimalkin, Maggot-a-pye I will not. _Min._ Wod thou shouldst wel know, I am no Maggot, but a |1210| meere Gentlewoman borne. _Tu._ I know thou art a Gentle, and Ile nibble at thee, thou shalt be my Cap-a-maintenance, & Ile carrie my naked sword before thee, my reuerend Ladie Lettice-cap. _Mi._ Thou shalt carry no naked swords before me to fright me, |1215| thou-- _Tuc._ Go too, let not thy tongue play so hard at hot-cockles; for, Gammer Gurton, I meane to bee thy needle, I loue thee, I loue thee, because thy teeth stand like the Arches vnder London Bridge, for thou’t not turne Satyre & bite thy husband; No, come my little |1220| Cub, doe not scorne mee because I goe in Stag, in Buffe, heer’s veluet too; thou seest I am worth thus much in bare veluet. _Min._ I scorne thee not, not I. _Tuc._ I know thou dost not, thou shat see that I could march with two or three hundred linkes before me, looke here, what? |1225| I could shew golde too, if that would tempt thee, but I will not make my selfe a Gold-smithes stall I; I scorne to goe chain’d my Ladie ath Hospitall, I doe; yet I will and must bee chain’d to thee.