D. Rat. Hath your browne cow cast hir calfe, or your sandy sowe her pigs?
Gammer. No, but chad ben as good they had as this, ich wot weel.
D. Rat. What is the matter?
Gammer. Alas, alas! cha lost my good neele!
My neele, I say, and wot ye what, a drab came by and spied it, 25
And when I asked hir for the same, the filth flatly denied it.
D. Rat. What was she that?
Gammer. A dame, ich warrant you! She began to scold and brawle—
Alas, alas! Come hether, Hodge! this wr[e]tche can tell you all.