And do as I thee byd;
For so I judge it meete;
This nedle again to win, 80
There is no shift therin
But conjure up a spreete.
Hodge. What, the great devill, Diccon, I saye?
Diccon. Yea, in good faith, that is the waye.
Fet with some prety charme. 85
Hodge. Soft, Diccon, be not to hasty yet,
By the masse, for ich begyn to sweat!