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.