Gammer. Rake a cat, Hodge! what woldst thou do?
Hodge. What, thinckst that cham not able?
Did not Tom Tankard rake his curtal toore[715] day standing in the stable? 20
Gammer. Soft! be content, lets here what newes Cocke bringeth from Maist Rat.
Cocke. Gammer, chave ben ther as you bad, you wot wel about what.
Twill not be long before he come, ich durst sweare of a booke.
He byds you see ye be at home, and there for him to looke.
Gammer. Where didst thou find him, boy? was he not wher I told thee? 25
Cocke. Yes, yes, even at Hob Filchers house, by him that bought and solde me!
A cup of ale had in his hand, and a crab lay in the fyer;