Hodge. Gogs hart! I durst have layd my cap to a crowne
Chwould lerne of some prancome as sone as ich came to town.
Diccon. Why, Hodge, art thou inspyred? or dedst thou therof here?
Hodge. Nay, but ich saw such a wonder as ich saw nat this seven yere. 30
Tome Tannkards cow, be Gogs bones! she set me up her saile,
And flynging about his halfe aker[663] fysking with her taile,
As though there had ben in her ars a swarme of bees,
And chad not cryed "tphrowh, hoore," shead lept out of his lees.
Diccon. Why, Hodg, lies the connyng in Tom Tankards cowes taile? 35
Hodge. Well, ich chave hard some say such tokens do not fayle.