Diccon. The whoreson talked to me, I know not well of what:
One while his tongue it ran, and paltered[232] of a cat,
Another while he stammered still upon a rat;
Last of all there was nothing but every word, Chat, Chat;
But this I well perceived, before I would him rid,
Between Chat, and the rat, and the cat, the needle is hid:
Now whether Gib our cat hath eat it in her maw,
Or Doctor Rat our curate hath found it in the straw,
Or this dame Chat your neighbour hath stolen it, God he knoweth,
But by the morrow at this time we shall learn how the matter goeth.