Hodge. Cha found your neele, Gammer, here in my hand be it!
Gammer. For al the loves on earth, Hodge, let me see it!
Hodge. Soft, Gammer!
Gammer. Good Hodge!
Hodge. Soft, ich say; tarie a while!
Gammer. Nay, sweete Hodge, say truth, and do not me begile! 305
Hodge. Cham sure on it, ich warrant you; it goes no more a stray.
Gammer. Hodge, when I speake so faire; wilt stil say me nay?
Hodge. Go neare the light, Gammer, this—wel, in faith, good lucke!—
Chwas almost undone, twas so far in my buttocke! Eiv