Betweene Chat, and the Rat, and the cat, the nedle is hyd.
Now wether Gyb, our cat, have eate it in her mawe, 25
Or Doctor Rat, our curat, have found it in the straw,
Or this Dame Chat, your neighbour, have stollen it, God hee knoweth!
But by the morow at this time, we shal learn how the matter goeth.
Hodge. Canst not learn tonight, man? seest not what is here?
(Pointyng behind to his torne breeches.)
Diccon. Tys not possyble to make it sooner appere. 30
Hodge. Alas, Diccon, then chave no shyft, but—least ich tary to longe—
Hye me to Sym Glovers shop, theare to seeke for a thonge,