GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE
The Prologue.
As Gammer Gurton with many a wide stitch
Sat piecing and patching of Hodge her man's breech,
By chance or misfortune, as she her gear toss'd,
In Hodge's leather breeches her needle she lost.
When Diccon the Bedlam had heard by report
That good Gammer Gurton was robbed in this sort,
He quietly persuaded with her in that stound
Dame Chat, her dear gossip, this needle had found;
Yet knew she no more of this matter, alas!
Than knoweth Tom, our clerk, what the priest saith at mass.
Hereof there ensued so fearful a fray,
Mas. Doctor was sent for, these gossips to stay,
Because he was curate, and esteemed full wise;
Who found that he sought not, by Diccon's device.
When all things were tumbled and clean out of fashion,
Whether it were by fortune, or some other constellation,
Suddenly the needle Hodge found by the pricking.
And drew it out of his buttock, where he felt it sticking.
Their hearts then at rest with perfect security,
With a pot of good ale they struck up their plaudity.
THE FIRST ACT. THE FIRST SCENE.
Diccon. Many a mile have I walked, divers and sundry ways,
And many a good man's house have I been at in my days;
Many a gossip's cup in my time have I tasted,
And many a broach and spit have I both turned and basted,
Many a piece of bacon have I had out of their balks,
In running over the country, with long and weary walks;
Yet came my foot never within those door cheeks,
To seek flesh or fish, garlick, onions, or leeks,
That ever I saw a sort in such a plight
As here within this house appeareth to my sight.
There is howling and scowling, all cast in a dump,
With whewling and puling, as though they had lost a trump.
Sighing and sobbing, they weep and they wail;
I marvel in my mind what the devil they ail.
The old trot sits groaning, with alas and alas!
And Tib wrings her hands, and takes on in worse case.
With poor Cock, their boy, they be driven in such fits,
I fear me the folks be not well in their wits.
Ask them what they ail, or who brought them in this stay,
They answer not at all, but "alack!" and "wellaway!"
When I saw it booted not, out at doors I hied me,
And caught a slip of bacon, when I saw none spied me,
Which I intend not far hence, unless my purpose fail,
Shall serve me for a shoeing horn to draw on two pots of ale.
THE FIRST ACT. THE SECOND SCENE.
Hodge, Diccon.
Hodge. See! so cham arrayed with dabbling in the dirt!
She that set me to ditching, ich would she had the squirt!
Was never poor soul that such a life had.
Gog's bones! this vilthy glay has dress'd me too bad!
Gog's soul! see how this stuff tears!
Ich were better to be a bearward, and set to keep bears!
By the mass, here is a gash, a shameful hole indeed!
And one stitch tear further, a man may thrust in his head.
Diccon. By my father's soul, Hodge, if I should now be sworn,
I cannot choose but say thy breech is foul betorn,
But the next remedy in such a case and hap
Is to planch on a piece as broad as thy cap.
Hodge. Gog's soul, man, 'tis not yet two days fully ended,
Since my dame Gurton (cham sure) these breeches amended;
But cham made such a drudge to trudge at every need,
Chwold rend it though it were stitched with sturdy packthread.
Diccon. Hodge, let thy breeches go, and speak and tell me soon
What devil aileth Gammer Gurton and Tib her maid to frown.
Hodge. Tush, man, th'art deceived: 'tis their daily look;
They cow'r so over the coals, their eyes be blear'd with smoke.
Diccon. Nay, by the mass, I perfectly perceived, as I came hither,
That either Tib and her dame hath been by the ears together,
Or else as great a matter, as thou shalt shortly see.
Hodge. Now, ich beseech our Lord they never better agree!
Diccon. By Gog's soul, there they sit as still as stones in the street,
As though they had been taken with fairies, or else with some ill-spreet.
Hodge. Gog's heart! I durst have laid my cap to a crown
Ch'would learn of some prancome as soon as ich came to town.
Diccon. Why, Hodge, art thou inspired? or didst thou thereof hear?
Hodge. Nay, but ich saw such a wonder as ich saw nat this seven year.
Tom Tankard's cow, by Gog's bones! she set me up her sail,
And flinging about his half acre, fisking with her tail,
As though there had been in her arse a swarm of bees,
And chad not cried "tphrowh, whore," shea'd leapt out of his lees.
Diccon. Why, Hodge, lies the cunning in Tom Tankard's cow's tail?
Hodge. Well, ich chave heard some say such tokens do not fail.
But ca[n]st thou not tell, in faith, Diccon, why she frowns, or whereat?
Hath no man stolen her ducks or hens, or gelded Gib, her cat?
Diccon. What devil can I tell, man? I could not have one word!
They gave no more heed to my talk than thou wouldst to a lord.
Hodge. Ich cannot skill but muse, what marvellous thing it is.
Chill in and know myself what matters are amiss.
Diccon. Then farewell, Hodge, a while, since thou dost inward haste,
For I will into the good wife Chat's, to feel how the ale doth taste.
THE FIRST ACT. THE THIRD SCENE.
Hodge, Tib.