THE FOURTH SCENE.
Diccon, Gammer.
Diccon. Now this gear must forward go, for here my Gammer cometh:
Be still a while, and say nothing, make here a little romth.[233]
Gammer. Good lord! shall never be my luck my nee'le again to spy?
Alas the while, 'tis past my help; where 'tis, still it must lie.
Diccon. Now, Jesus, Gammer Gurton, what driveth you to this sadness?
I fear me, by my conscience, you will sure fall to madness.
Gammer. Who is that? what, Diccon? cham lost, man: fie, fie.
Diccon. Marry, fie on them that be worthy; but what should be your trouble?