Whether she gat it at home, or abrode in the towne 10
Ich can not tell.
Gammer. Alas ich feare it be some croked pyn!
And then farewell Gyb! she is undone, and lost al save the skyn!
Hodge. Tys[711] your neele, woman, I say! Gogs soule! geve me a knyfe,
And chil have it out[712] of her mawe, or els chal lose my lyfe!
Gammer. What! nay, Hodg, fy! Kil not our cat, tis al the cats we ha now. 15
Hodge. By the masse, Dame Chat hays me so moved,[713] iche care not what I kyll, ma[714] God a vowe!
Go to, then, Tyb, to this geare! holde up har tayle and take her!
Chil see what devil is in her guts! chil take the paines to rake her!