And where ye had it in your hands, sewing about a clowte, 190
And set me in the backe hole, therby to finde you out:
And whiles I sought a quietnes, creping upon my knees,
I found the weight of your dore bar for my reward and fees.
Such is the lucke that some men gets, while they begin to mel
In setting at one such as were out, minding to make al wel. 195
Hodge. Was not wel blest, Gammer, to scape that stoure?[746] And chad ben there,
Then chad been drest,[747] be like, as ill, by the masse, as Gaffar Vicar.
Bayly. Mary, sir, here is a sport alone; I loked for such an end.
If Diccon had not playd the knave, this had ben sone amend.