For these and ill luck together, as knoweth Cock my boy,
Have stack[198] away my dear nee'le, and robbed me of my joy.
My fair long straight nee'le, that was mine only treasure,
The first day of my sorrow is, and last end of my pleasure.
Hodge (aside). Might ha' kept it, when ye had it; but fools will be fools still:
Lose that is vast in your hands? ye need not, but ye will.
Gammer. Go hie thee, Tib, and run, thou whore, to the end here of the town.
Didst carry out dust in thy lap? seek where thou pourest it down;
And as thou sawest me raking in the ashes where I mourned,
So see in all the heap of dust thou leave no straw unturned.