celebrated fool. This I learn from Wilson's 'Art of Rhetorique,' 1553:
'A word making, called of the Grecians Onomatopiea, is when we make
words of our own mind, such as be derived from the nature of things,'
as to call one _patche_, or cowlson, whom we see to do a thing
foolishly; because these two in their time were notable fools.
"Probably the dress which the celebrated _patch_ wore was in allusion
to his name, patched or parti-coloured. Hence the stage-fool has ever
since been exhibited in a motley coat. In Rowley's 'When you see me,
you know me,' Cardinal Wolsey's fool _Patch_ is introduced. Perhaps he
was the original _patch_ of whom Wilson speaks."--Note on "Merchant of
Venice," act ii., sc. 5.
In Chaloner's translation of the "Praise of Folly," by Erasmus, 1549,
is the following passage: "And by the fayeth ye owe to the immortal
godds, may any thing to an indifferent considerer be deemed more
happie and blisful than is this kinde of men whome commonly ye call
fooles, poltes, ideotes, and _paches_?"
Again, "I have subtraied these my selie _paches_, who not onelye
themselves are ever mery, playing, singing, and laughyng, but also
whatever they doo, are provokers of others lykewyse to pleasure,
sporte, and laughter, as who sayeth ordeyned herefore by the Godds of
theyr benevolence to recreate the sadnesse of mens lyves."
[203] In all cases of distress, and whenever the assistance of a
superior power was necessary, it was usual with the Roman Catholics to
promise their tutelary saints to light up candles at their altars, to
induce them to be propitious to such applications as were made to
them. The reader will see a very ridiculous story of this kind in the
first volume of Lord Oxford's "Collection of Voyages," p. 771, quoted
in Dr Grey's "Notes on Shakspeare," vol. i. p. 7. Erasmus has a story
to the same purpose in his "Naufragium."
[204] [Respecting this song, see Bell's "Songs from the Dramatists,"
p. 34.]
[205] Alluding to the drunkenness of the Friars.
[206] So in act iii., sc. 4--
"A cup of ale had in his hand, and _a crab_ lay in the fire."
Again--
"Now _a crab_ in the fire were worth a good groat,
That I might quaff with my Captain Tom tospot."
--Fulwell's _Like will to Like_, c. 2.
Again--
"And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a _roasted crab_."
--_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii., sc. 1.
Upon this last passage, Mr Steevens has given the following examples
of the use of this word--
"Yet we will have in store _a crab_ in the fire,
With nut-brown ale."--_Henry V._, Anon.
"And sit down in my chaire by my faire Alison,
And turn a _crabbe_ in the fire as merry as Pope Joan."
--Edwards's _Damon and Pithias_.
"Sitting in a corner turning _crabs_,
Or coughing o'er a warmed pot of ale."
--_Description of Christmas in Summer's last Will
and Testament_, by Nash, 1600.
[207] _Trowl_, or _trole the bowl_, was a common phrase in drinking
for passing the vessel about, as appears by the following beginning of
an old catch--
"_Trole, trole_ the bowl to me,
And I will _trole_ the same again to thee."
And in this other, in Hilton's Collection--
"Tom Bouls, Tom Bouls,
Seest thou not how merrily this good ale _trowles_?
--Sir John Hawkins's _History of Music_, Vol. III., 22.
Again--
"Sirra Shakebagge, canst thou remember
Since we _trould the boule_ at Sittingburn."
--_Arden of Feversham_, 1592.
"Giv't us weele pledge, nor shall a man that lives
In charity refuse it, I will not be so old
As not be grac't to honour Cupid, giv't us full.
When we were young, we could ha _trold_ it off.
Drunke down a Dutchman."
--Marston's _Parasitaster or The Fawne_, act. v.
"Now the cups _trole_ about to wet the gossips whistles,
It pours down, I faith, they never think of payment."
--_A Chast Mayd in Cheap-side_, p. 34.
[208] Add.
[209] See Dekker's Description of an Abraham-man, _supra_.
[210] _To swink_ is to work or labour; as in Spenser's "Fairy Queen,"
B. II., cant. vii., st. 8.
"For which men sweat and _swink_ incessantly."
Again in "Comus," l. 293--
"And the _swinkt_ hedger at his supper sat."
Also in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," Prol., l. 184--
"What schulde he studie, make himselven wood,
Uppon a book in cloystre alway to powre,
Or _swinke_ with his hands, and laboure,
As Austin byt? how schal the world be served?
Let Austyn have his _swynk_ to him reserved."
And in "Pierce Plowman's Vision"--
"Hermets an heape with hoked staves,
Wenten to Walsingham, and her wenches after.
Great loubees and long, that loth were to _swinke_,
Clothed hem in copes, to be knowen from other."
[211] Will.
[212] Old copy, _than_.
[213] In the 14th of Queen Elizabeth, 1572, an Act of Parliament
passed, by which very heavy penalties were inflicted on all rogues,
vagabonds, and sturdy beggars. Among others, who are therein described
and directed to be deemed such, are idle persons going about feigning
themselves to have knowledge in phisnomie, palmestrie, or other abused
sciences, whereby they bear the people in hand that they can tell
their destinies, deaths, and fortunes, _and such other like
fantastical imaginations_. This statute seems to be alluded to here
by Diccon, and will serve to confirm the later date of the play; and
at the same time prove the forgery of that assigned to it by Chetwood.
[214] Fetched.
[215] Old copy, _syme_.
[216] "Ut mulieres solent ad mingendum."--_S._
[217] To.
[218] Can.
[219] I con him no thanks for it, occurs in Shakspeare's "All's Well
that Ends Well," and Mr Steevens says it means, "I shall not thank him
in studied language." I meet with the same expression in Nash's
"Pierce Pennilesse," &c.--
"I believe he _will con thee little thanks for it_."
Again, in "Wily Beguiled," 1606--
"I _con_ master Churms _thanks_ for this."
Again, in "Anything for a Quiet Life": "He would not trust you with
it, I _con_ him thanks for it."
_Cun or con thanks_, says the "Glossary to the Lancashire Dialect," is
to _give thanks_; and in that sense only the words appear to be used
to this day in the North of England. In Erasmus's "Praise of Folly,"
by Chaloner, 1549, sig. E 2: "But in the meane while ye ought to
_conne me thanke_," &c., and sig. I 4: "Who natheless _conned him as
greate thanke_," &c. Again, in Nash's "Pierce Pennilesse," p. 28: "It
is well doone 'to practise thy wit, but (I believe) our Lord will _cun
thee little_ thanke for it.'"
[220] _i.e._, Glossing or commenting upon. So, in "Pierce Plowman":
"_Glosed_ the Gospel as hem good liked,
For covetous of copes construe it as thei wold."
[221] Trump was a game played with cards, as will appear by the
following passage of Dekker's "Bellman of London," 1608, sig. F: "To
speak of all the slights used by _Card-players_ in al sorts of Games
would but weary you that are to read, and bee but a thanklesse and
unpleasing labour for me to set them downe. Omitting therefore the
deceipts practised (even in the fairest & most civill companies) at
Primero, Saunt, Maw, _Tromp_, and such like games, I will," &c. [See
Nares, _v. Trump_.]
[222] _i.e._, In secrecy. See note to the "Merry Wives of Windsor,"
edit. 1778, vol. i., p. 228.--_S._
[223] Our dear Lady of Boulogne is no other than the image of the
Virgin Mary at Boulogne, which was formerly held in so much reverence,
that it was one of those to which Pilgrimages used to be made. In
Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," Prol. 1. 465, describing the "Wife of
Bath," he says--
"And thries hadde sche ben at Jerusalem.
Sche hadde passed many a straunge streem.
At Rome sche hadde ben, and at _Boloyne_.
In Galice at seynt Jame, and at Coloyne."
The Virgin Mary was the patroness of the town of Boulogne in a very
singular manner, it being holden immediately of her: "For when King
Lewis II., after the decease of Charles of Burgundy, had taken in
Boulogne, anno 1477, as new Lord of the town (thus John de Serres
relateth it), he did homage without sword or spurs bareheaded, and on
his knee, before the Virgin Mary, offering unto her image an heart of
massie gold, weighing 2000 crowns. He added also this, that he and his
successors, kings after him, should hold the county of Boulogne of the
said Virgin, and do homage unto her image in the great church of the
higher town dedicated to her name, paying at every change of a vassal
an heart of pure gold of the same weight."--Heylin's "Survey of
France," 1656, p. 193.
[224] The three kings of Cologne are supposed to have been the wise
men who travelled unto our Saviour by the direction of the star. To
these kings several writers have given the names of Gaspar, Melchior,
and Balthazar; but Sir Thomas Browne, in his "Vulgar Errors," has a
whole chapter concerning them, in which he doubts all the principal
facts in the account of them. See B. vii., c. 8. The celebrated Thomas
Coryat, when at Cologne, took some pains to collect many circumstances
relative to these kings, with which he hath filled several pages of
his book; and to which those who are desirous of further information
on the subject must be referred.
[225] Two.
[226] A crowd is a small fiddle. Hence the name of _Crowdero_, in
Hudibras. _Crowded_ means--made a musical noise.--_S._
[227] This oath occurs again, act v., sc. 2--
"Yet shall ye find no other wight save she, _by bread and salt_."
From the following passage, in Nash's "Lenten Stuff," 1599, it may be
inferred that it was once customary to eat _bread and salt_ previous
to the taking an oath: "Venus, for Hero was her Priest, and Juno
Lucina the Midwife's Goddess, for she was now quickened, and cast away
by the cruelty of Æolus, took _bread and salt_, and eat it, that they
would be smartly revenged on that truculent, windy jailor," &c.
[228] [Brat.]
[229] Counsel or advice. So in act iv., sc. 2--
"Therefore I _reed_ you three, go hence and within keep close."
Again--
"Well, if ye will be ordered and do by my _reed_."
Again, act v., sc. 2--
"And where ye sat, he said full certain, if I would follow his
_reed_."
Again, in Erasmus's "Praise of Folie," by Chaloner, sig. D 3: "Vnles
perchaunce some would chuse suche a souldiour as was Demosthenes, who
folowying Archilocus the poetes _rede_, scarse lookynge his enemies in
the face, threw downe his shelde and ranne awaie, as cowardly a
warriour as he was a wyse oratour."
The old version of the singing Psalms also begins in this manner--
"The man is blest that hath not bent
To wicked _rede_ his ear."
[230] _i.e._, Gladly know. So in Shakpeare's "Antony and Cleopatra,"
act i., sc. 1--
"In which I bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to _weete_,
We stand up peerless."
The [form] _weet_ is also used by Spenser and Fairfax.
[231] In the ancient moralities, and in many of the earliest
entertainments of the stage, the devil is introduced as a character,
and it appears to have been customary to bring him before the audience
with this cry of _ho, ho, ho_. See particularly the "Devil is an Ass,"
by Ben Jonson, act. i., sc. 1. From the following passages in "Wily
Beguiled," 1606, we learn the manner in which the character used to be
dressed:--"Tush! fear not the dodge: I'll rather put on my flashing
red nose and my flaming face, and come wrapp'd in a calf's skin, and
cry, _ho, ho_," &c. Again, "I'll put me on my great carnation nose,
and wrap me in a rowsing calf's skin suit, and come like some
hobgoblin, or some devil ascended from the grisly pit of hell; and
like a scarbabe make him take his legs: I'll play the devil, I warrant
ye."
[232] To _palter_ is, as Dr Johnson explains it, to _shuffle_ with
ambiguous expressions. Thus--
"And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That _palter_ with us in a double sense."
--_Macbeth_, act v., sc. 8.
In confirmation of Dr Johnson's explanation, Mr Steevens produces the
following instances:--
"Now fortune, frown, and _palter_, if thou please."
--_Marius and Sylla_, 1594.
"Romans that have spoke the word,
And will not _palter_."
--_Englishmen for my Money_, c. 3.--_O. G._
[233] I suppose he means to say a little _room_; and therefore retires
till Gammer Gurton has uttered her complaint--S.
[234] I imagine this word was formerly used to signify _sharp_. So in
"The Woman's Prize," by Beaumont and Fletcher, act ii., sc. 4--
"They heave ye stool on stool, and fling [a-]main pot-lids
Like massy rocks dart ladles, tossing irons
And tongs like thunder-bolts, till overlaid
They fall beneath the weight."
[Dyce's B. and F. vii., 140.]
[235] The ancient spurs were fixed into straps of leather. Spurriers,
of course, would be obliged to use very strong needles.--_S._
[236] Who was it, dear son? So in the ballad-poem of "Adam Bell,"
&c.--
"Ye myght have asked towres and towne,
Parkes and forestes plentie,
None so pleasaunt to my pay, she said;
Nor none so _lefe_ to me."
[--Hazlitt's _Popular Poetry_, ii. 160.]
[237] _Our_, first edition.
[238] "As brisk as a body-louse was formerly proverbial." See Ray's
"Proverbs," 1742, p. 219.
[239] "_Callet_, a lewd woman, a drab." [See Nares, edit. 1859, p.
128.] So in the "Supposes," by Geo. Gascoigne, act v., sc. 6: "Come
hither, you old _kallat_, you tatling huswife: that the deuill cut
oute your tong."
Again, in Jonson's "Fox," act iv., sc. 3--
"Why, the callet
You told me of here I have ta'en disguis'd."
_Callett_ is elsewhere used for stupid, inactive--
"Bid maudlin lay the cloth, take up the meat;
Look how she stirres; you sullen elfe, you _callett_,
Is this the haste you make?"
--_Englishmen for my Money_, 1631.--_O. G._
See other instances in Dr Grey's "Notes on Shakspeare," vol. ii., p.
41.
[240] _Slygh._--First edition.
[241] _Slepe not you gere._--First edition.
[242] Pebble-stones. A _cobble_ in the north signifies a _pebble_. To
_cobble_ is to throw stones. See Ray.--_S._
[243] By nature.--_S._
[244] This passage evidently shows that music playing between the acts
was introduced in the earliest of our dramatic entertainments.
THE THIRD ACT.
THE FIRST SCENE.
HODGE. Sim Glover, yet gramercy! cham meetly well-sped now,
Th 'art even as good a fellow as ever kiss'd a cow.
Here is a thong[245] indeed, by the mass, though ich speak it,
Tom Tankard's great bald curtal,[246] I think, could not break it.
And when he spied my need to be so straight and hard,
Hase lent me here his nawl to set the gib forward.[247]
As for my gammer's nee'le the flying fiend go wi' it,
Chill not now go to the door again with it to meet.
Chould make shift good enough, and chad a candle's end:
The chief hole in my breech with these two chill amend.
THE THIRD ACT.
THE SECOND SCENE.
GAMMER, HODGE.
GAMMER. How, Hodge! may'st now be glad, cha news to tell thee,
Ich know who hase my nee'le, ich trust soon shall it see.
HODGE. The devil thou does; hast heard, gammer, indeed, or dost but
jest?
GAMMER. Tis as true as steel, Hodge.
HODGE. Why, knowest well where didst lese it?
GAMMER. Ich know who found it, and took it up: shalt see, ere it be
long.
HODGE. God's mother dear, if that be true, farewell both nawl and
thong!
But who hase it, gammer, say? one chould fain hear it disclosed.
GAMMER. That false vixen, that same dame Chat, that counts herself
so honest.
HODGE. Who told you so?
GAMMER. That same did Diccon the bedlam, which saw it done.
HODGE. Diccon! it is a vengeable knave, gammer, 'tis a bonable[248]
whoreson,
Can do mo things than that, els cham deceived evil:
By the mass, ich saw him of late call up a great black devil.
O, the knave cried _ho, ho_! he roared and he thundered,
And ye 'ad been here, cham sure you 'ld murrainly ha' wondered.
GAMMER. Was not thou afraid, Hodge, to see him in this place?
HODGE. No, and chad come to me, chould have laid him on the face,
Chould have promised him.
GAMMER. But, Hodge, had he no horns to push?
HODGE. As long as your two arms. Saw ye never Friar Rush
Painted on a cloth with a side-long cow's tail,
And crooked cloven feet, and many a hooked nail?
For all the world (if I should judge) chould reckon him his brother:
Look, even what face Friar Rush[249] had, the devil had such another.
GAMMER. Now, Jesus mercy, Hodge, did Diccon in him bring?
HODGE. Nay, gammer (hear me speak), chill tell you a greater thing.
The devil, when Diccon bad him (ich heard him wondrous well)
Said plainly (here before us) that dame Chat had your nee'le.
GAMMER. Then let us go, and ask her wherefore she minds to keep it;
Seeing we know so much, 'twere madness now to slip it.
HODGE. Go to her, gammer, see ye not where she stands in her doors?
Bid her give you the nee'le; 'tis none of hers, but yours.
THE THIRD ACT.
THE THIRD SCENE.
GAMMER, CHAT, HODGE.
GAMMER. Dame Chat, ch' ould pray thee fair, let me have that is mine,
Chill not these twenty years take one fart that is thine;
Therefore give me mine own, and let me live beside thee--
CHAT. Why art thou crept from home hither to mine own doors to chide
me?
Hence, doating drab, avaunt, or I shall set thee further.
Intends thou and this knave me in my house to murther?
GAMMER. Tush! gape not so on[250] me, woman: shalt not yet eat me,
Nor all the friends thou hast in this shall not entreat me;
Mine own goods I will have, and ask thee no[251] by'r leave:
What, woman, poor folks must have right, though the thing you aggrieve.
CHAT. Give thee thy right, and hang thee up, with all thy beggar's
brood!
What, wilt thou make me a thief, and say I stole thy good?
GAMMER. Chill say nothing (ich warrant thee), but that ich can prove
it well,
Thou fet my good even from my door, cham able this to tell.
CHAT. Did I (old witch) steal ought was thine? how should that thing
be known?
GAMMER. Ich cannot tell, but up thou tookest it, as though it had
been thine own.
CHAT. Marry, fie on thee, thou old gib, with all my very heart.
GAMMER. Nay, fie on thee, thou ramp,[252] thou rig,[253] with all that
take thy part.
CHAT. A vengeance on those lips that layeth such things to my charge.
GAMMER. A vengeance on those callet's hips, whose conscience is
so large.
CHAT. Come out, hog.
GAMMER. Come out, hog, and let have me right.
CHAT. Thou arrant witch.
GAMMER. Thou bawdy bitch, chill make thee curse this night.
Chat. A bag and a wallet![254]
GAMMER. A cart for a callet!
CHAT. Why, weenest[255] thou thus to prevail?
I hold thee a groat,
I shall patch thy coat.
GAMMER. Thou wert as good kiss my tail;
Thou slut, thou cut,[256] thou rakes, thou jakes, will not shame make
thee hide thee?[257]
CHAT. Thou skald, thou bald, thou rotten,[258] thou glutton, I will
no longer chide thee;
But I will teach thee to keep home.
GAMMER. Wilt thou, drunken beast? [_They fight._
HODGE. Stick to her, gammer, take her by the head, chill warrant
you this feast.
Smite, I say, gammer,
Bite, I say, gammer;
I trow ye will be keen;
Where be your nails? claw her by the jaws, pull me out both her eyen.
Gog's bones, gammer, hold up your head.
CHAT. I trow, drab, I shall dress thee.
Tarry, thou knave, I hold thee a groat, I shall make these hands
bless thee.
[GURTON.] Take thou this, old whore, for amends, and learn thy
tongue well to tame,
And say thou met at this bickering, not thy fellow,[259] but thy dame.
HODGE. Where is the strong stewed whore?[260] chill gi 'r a whore's
mark.
Stand out one's way, that ich kill none in the dark.
Up, gammer, and ye be alive, chill fight[261] now for us both;
Come no near me, thou scald callet, to kill thee ich were loth.
CHAT. Art here again, thou hoddypeke?[262] what, Doll, bring me out
my spit.
HODGE. Chill broach thee with this, by m' father's soul, chill
conjure that foul spreet.
Let door stand, Cock, why com'st indeed? keep door, thou whoreson boy.
CHAT [_to Doll._] Stand to it, thou dastard, for thine ears; ise teach
the sluttish toy.
HODGE. Gog's wounds, whore, chill make thee avaunt,
Take heed, Cock, pull in the latch.
CHAT. I' faith, sir loose-breech, had ye tarried, ye should have found
your match.
GAMMER. Now 'ware thy throat, losel,[263] thou'se pay for all.
HODGE. Well said, gammer, by my soul.
Hoise her, souse her, bounce her, trounce her, pull her throat-hole.
CHAT. Com'st behind me, thou withered witch? and I get once on foot,
Thou'se pay for all, thou old tar-leather, I'll teach thee what
longs to 't.
Take thee this to make up thy mouth, till time thou come by more.
HODGE. Up, gammer, stand on your feet, where is the old whore?
Faith, would chad her by the face, chould crack her callet crown.
GAMMER. Ah, Hodge, Hodge, where was thy help, when th' vixen had
me down!
HODGE. By the mass, Gammer, but for my staff, Chat had gone nigh to
spill you.
Ich think the harlot had not cared, and chad not come, to kill you.
But shall we lose our nee'le thus?
GAMMER. No, Hodge, ich were loth to do so.
Thinkest thou chill take that at her hand? no, Hodge, ich tell
thee no.
HODGE. Chould yet this fray were well take up, and our own nee'le
at home,
'Twill be my chance else some to kill, wherever it be or whom.
GAMMER. We have a parson (Hodge, thou knows), a man esteemed wise,
Mast Doctor Rat, chill for him send, and let me hear his advice.
He will her shrive[264] for all this gear, and give her penance
straight.
Wese have our nee'le, else dame Chat comes ne'er within heaven-gate.
HODGE. Yea marry, gammer, that ich think best: will you now for
him send?
The sooner Doctor Rat be here, the sooner wese ha' an end.
And here, gammer, Diccon's devil (as ich remember well)
Of Cat and Chat, and Doctor Rat, a felonious tale did tell,
Chold you forty pound, that is the way your nee'le to get again.
GAMMER. Chill ha' him straight; call out the boy, wese make him
take the pain.
HODGE. What, Cock, I say, come out; what devil, can'st not hear?
COCK.[265] How now, Hodge, how does gammer? is yet the weather clear?
What would chave me to do?
GAMMER. Come hither, Cock, anon.
Hence swith to Doctor Rat hie thee, that thou were gone,
And pray him come speak with me, cham not well at ease:
Shalt have him at his chamber, or else at Mother Bee's,
Else seek him at Hob Filcher's shop; for, as cheard it reported,
There is the best ale in all the town, and now is most resorted.
COCK. And shall ich bring him with me, gammer?
GAMMER. Yea, by and by, good Cock.
COCK.[266] Shalt see that shall be here anon, else let me have on
the dock.
HODGE. Now, gammer, shall we two go in, and tarry for his coming?
What devil, woman, pluck up your heart, and leave off all this
glooming.[267]
Though she were stronger at the first, as ich think ye did find her.
Yet there ye dress'd the drunken sow, what time ye came behind
her.[268]
GAMMER. Nay, nay, cham sure she lost not all, for set them to the
beginning,
And ich doubt not, but he will make small boast of her winning.
THE THIRD ACT.
THE FOURTH SCENE.
TIB, HODGE, GAMMER, COCK.
TIB. See, gammer, gammer, Gib our cat, cham afraid what she aileth,
She stands me gasping behind the door, as though her wind her faileth.
Now mot[269] ich doubt what Gib should mean, that now she doth
so doat.[270]
HODGE. Hold hither, ich hold twenty pound, your nee'le is in her
throat.
Grope her, ich say, methinks ich feel it; does not prick your hand?
GAMMER. Ich can feel nothing.
HODGE. No! ich know that's not within this land
A murrainer cat than Gib is, betwixt the Thames and Tyne,
Sh'ase as much wit in her head almost as ch'ave in mine.
TIB. Faith, sh'ase eaten something, that will not easily down,
Whether she gat it at home, or abroad in the town,
Ich cannot tell.
GAMMER. Alas! ich fear it be some crooked pin,
And then farewell Gib, she is undone and lost, all save the skin.
HODGE. 'Tis[271] your nee'le, woman, I say; Gog's soul, give me
a knife,
And chill have it out of her maw, or else chall lose my life.
GAMMER. What! nay, Hodge, fie, kill not our cat, 'tis all the cats
we ha' now.
HODGE. By the mass, dame Chat hase me so moved, ich care not
what I kill, ma' God a vow.
Go to then, Tib, to this gear, hold up her tail and take her,
Chill see what devil is in her guts, chill take the pains to rake her.
GAMMER. Rake a cat, Hodge! what wouldest thou do?
HODGE. What, think'st that cham not able?
Did not Tom Tankard rake his curtal t'o'er day standing in the stable?
GAMMER. Soft, be content, let's hear what news Cock bringeth from
Master Rat.
COCK. Gammer, chave been there as you bad, you wot well about what.
'Twill not be long before he come, ich durst swear off a book,
He bid you see ye be at home, and there for him to look.
GAMMER. Where didst thou find him, boy? was he not where I told thee?
COCK. Yes, yes, even at Hob Filcher's house, by him that bought and
sold me:
A cup of ale had in his hand, and a crab lay in the fire:
Chad much a-do to go and come, all was so full of mire:
And, gammer, one thing I can tell: Hob Filcher's nawl was lost,
And Doctor Rat found it again, hard beside the door-post.
Ich hold a penny can say something, your nee'le again to fet.[272]