Classic Poem

Backe and syde go bare, go bare, booth foote and hande go colde:
But Bellye god sende thee good ale ynoughe, whether it be newe or olde.
I Can not eate but lytle meate, my stomacke is not good:
But sure I thmke that I can drynke with him that weares a hood.
Thoughe I go bare take ye no care, I am nothinge a colde:
I stuffe my skyn so full within, of ioly good Ale and olde.

Backe and syde go bare go bare, booth foote and hand go colde:
But belly god send the good ale inoughe whether it be new or olde.
I loue no rost but a nut browne toste and a Crab layde in the fyre,
A lytle bread shall do me stead much breade I not desyre:
No froste nor snow, no winde I trowe can hurte mee if I wolde,
I am so wrapt, and throwly lapt of ioly good ale and olde.
Backe and syde go bare &c.

And Tyb my wyfe that as her lyfe loueth well good ale to seeke,
Full ofte drynkes shee tyll ye may see the teares run downe her cheekes:
Then dooth she trowle to mee the bowle euen as a mault worme shuld,
And sayth sweete hart I tooke my part of this ioly good ale and olde.
Backe and syde go bare &c.
Now let them drynke tyll they nod and winke, euen as good felowes shoulde doe
They shall not mysse to haue the blisse, good ale doth bringe men to:
And all poore soules that haue scowred boules or haue them lustely trolde,
God saue the lyues of them and theyr wyues whether they be yonge or olde.
Backe and syde go bare &c.

The fyrst Sceane.

[Enter: Diccon. Hodge.]

Diccon

Well done be Gogs malt well songe and well sayde,
Come on mother Chat as thou art true mayde.
One fresh pot of ale lets see to make an ende
Agaynst this colde wether, my maked armes to defende,
This gere it warms the soule, now wind blow on the worst,
And let us drink and swill, till that our bellies burste
Now were he a wyse man, by cunnynge colde defyne
Which way my lourney lyeth or where Dyccon will dyne
But one good turne I haue be it by nyght or daye
South East North or west I am neuer out of my waye

Hodge

Chym goodly rewarded, cham I not, do you thyncke?
Chad a goodly dynner for all my seate and swyncke,
Neyther butter cheese, mylke onyons fleshe nor fyshe
Saue thys poor pece of barly bread, tis a pleas costly dishe.

Diccon

Haile fellow Hodge & well to fare wt thy meat, if yu haue any?
But by thy words as I then smelled thy damtrels be not manye.

Hodge

Daintrels diccon (gogs soule man) saue this pece of dry horsbred,
Cha byt no byt this lyue longe daie no crome come in my hed
My gutts they yawle crawle and all my be rumbleth
The puddynges can not lye still ech one ouer other tumbleth
By gogs harte cham so vente and in my belly pende
Chould one peece were at the spittlehouse another at ye castels ende.

Diccon

Why hodge was there none at home thy dinner for to set:

Hodge

Godgs bread Diccon ich came to late, was nothing ther to get
Gib (a fowle feind might on her hght) lick ye milke pan so clene
See Diccon, twas not so wellwasht this .vii. yere as ich wene

A pestilence lyght on all ill lucke, chad thought yet for all thys
Of a morsell of bacon behynde the dore at worst shuld not misse,
But when ich sought a slyp to cut, as ich was wont to do
Gogs soule Diccon, gyb our Cat had eate the bacon to.

[Which bacon Diccon stole, as is declared before.]

Diccon

Ill luck quod he mary swere it hodg, this day ye trueth to tel
Thou rose not on thy right syde, or els blest thee not wel,
Thy mylk slopt vp thy bacon filtched, that was to bad luck hodg.

Hodge

Nay nay ther was a fowler fault, my gammer ga me ye dodge
Seest not how cham rent & torn, my heels, my knees & my breech
Chad thought as ich sat by the fire, help here & there a stitch,
But there ich was powpte indeede.

Diccon

Why Hodge?

Hodge

Bootes not man to tell,
Cham so drest amonst a sorte of fooles, chad better be in hell,
My gammer (cham ashamed to say) by god serued me not weele

Diccon

How so Hodge?

Hodge

Bootes not man to tell,
Cham so drest amonst a sorte of fooles, chad better be in hell,
My gammer (chain ashamed to say) by god serued me not weele

Diccon

How so Hodge?

Hodge

Hase she not gone trowest now and lost her neele.

Diccon

Her Eele Hodge who fysht of late? that was a damty dysh.

Hodge

Tush tush, her neele, her neele, her neele man. Tys neyther flesh nor fysh.
A lytle thing with an hole in the end, as bright as any syller,
Small, longe, sharpe at the poynt, & straight as any pyller.

Diccon

I know not what a deuil yu menest, yu brigst me more in doubt

Hodge

Knowest not wt what tom tailers man, sits broching throughe a clout
A neele, neele, a neele, my gammers neele is gone.

Diccon

Her neele Hodge, now I smel thee, yt was a chaunce alone,
By ye masse yn hadst a shamefull losse & it wer but for thy breches

Hodge

Gogs soule man chould giue a crown chad it but iii stitches.

Diccon

How sayest yu Hodg, what shuld he haue, again thy neele got

Hodge

Bem vathers soule, and chad it chould giue him a new grot.

Diccon

Canst thou keepe counsaile in this case.

Hodge

Els chwold my tonge were out.

Diccon

Do thou but then by my aduise, & I will fetch it wtout doubt,

Hodge

Chyll runne chyll ryde, chyll dygge, chyl delue, chill toyle, chill trudge shalt see:
Chill hold chil drawe, chil pull, chill pynche chill kneele on my bare knee.
Chill scrape chill scratche, chill skte, chyll seeke, chill bowe, chill bende, chill sweate,
Chil stoop, chil stur, chil cap chil knele, chil crepe on hands & feete,
Chil be thy bondman Diccon, ich sweare by sunne and moone
And channot sum what to stop this gap, chaiu vtterly vndone

[Pointing bchind to his torne breeches.]

Diccon

Why, is ther any special cause, thou takest hereat such sorow

Hodge

Kirstian Clack Tom simsons maid, bi the masse coms hether to morow
Chamnot able to say, betweene vs what may hap,
She smyled on me the last sonday when ich put of my cap,

Diccon

Well Hodge this is a matter of weight, & must be kept close,
It might els turne to both our costes as the world now gose,
Shalt sware to be no blab Hodge.

Hodge

Chyll Diccon.

Diccon

Then go to,
Lay thine haud here say after me as thou shalt here me do
Haste no booke?

Hodge

Cha no booke I.

Diccon

Then needes must force vs both,
Upon my breech to lay thme hand, and there to take thme othe.

Hodge

I Hodge breechele,
Sweare to Diccon rechelesse
By the crosse that I shall kysse,
To kepe his counsaile close
And alwayes me to dispose
To worke that his pleasure is.

[Here he kysseth Diccons breeche.]

Diccon

Now Hodge see thou take heede
And do as I thee byd
For so I iudge it meete,
This nedle againe to win
Thgere is no shift therin
But coniure vp a spreet.

Hodge

What the great deuill Diccon I saye?

Diccon

Yea in good faith, that is the waye,
Fet with some prety charme.

Hodge

Softe Diccon be not to hasty yet,
By the masse for ich begyn to sweat
Cham afrayde of some harme.

Diccon

Come hether then and sturre the nat
One mche out of this Cyrcle plat
But stande as I thee teache.

Hodge

And shall ich be here safe from theyr clawes:

Diccon

The mayster deuill with his longe pawes
Here to thee can not reache:
Now will I settle me to this geare.

Hodge

I saye Diccon heare me heare:
Go softely to thys matter.

Diccon

What deuyll man art afraide of nought

Hodge

Canst not tarrye a lytle thought
Tyll ich make a curtesie of water.

Diccon

Stand still to it why shuldest thou fearehym?

Hodge

Gogs sydes Diccon me thinke ich heare him
And tarrye chal mare all.

Diccon

The matter is no worse then I tolde it,

Hodge

By the masse cham able no longer to holde it,
To bad iche must beraye the hall.

Diccon

Stand to it Hodge sture not you horson,
What Deuyll be thine ars strynges brusten?
Thy selfe a while but staye,
The deuill I smell hym wyll be here anone.

Hodge

Hold him fast Diccon, cham gone, cham gone
Chyll not be at that fraye.

The .ii. Acte. The ii. Sceane.

Diccon

Fy shytten knaue, and out vpon thee
Aboue all other loutes fye on thee,
Is not here a clenly prancke?
But thy matter was no better
Nor thy presence here no sweter,
To flye I can the thanke:
Here is a matter worthy glosynge
Of Gammer Gurtons nedle losynge
And a foule peece of warke,
A man I thyncke myght make a playe
And nede no worde to this they saye
Being but halfe a Clarke.
Softe let me alone I will take the charge
This matter further to enlarge
Withm a tyme shorte,
If ye will marke my toyes and note
I will geue ye leaue to cut my throte
If I make not good sporte,
Dame Chat I say where be ye within?

Chat

Who haue we there maketh such a din:

Diccon

Here is a good fellow maketh no great daunger,

Chat

What diccon? come nere ye be no straunger,
We be fast set at trumpe man hard by the fyre,
Thou shalt set on the king if thou come a litle nyer.

Diccon

Nay, nay, there is no tarying: I must be gone againe
But first for you in councel I haue a word or twaine.

Chat

Come hether Dol, Dol, sit downe and play this game,
And as thou sawest me do, see thou do euen the same
Thereis 5. trumps beside the Queene, ye hindmost yu shalt finde her
Take hede of Sim glouers wife, she hath an eie behind her,
Now Diccon say your will.

Diccon

Nay softe a litle yet,
I wold not tel it my sister, the inatter is so great,
There I wil haue you sweare by our dere Lady of Bullaine,
S Dunstoue, and S. Donnyke, with the three Kinges of Kullaine,
That ye shal keepe it secret.

Chat

Gogs bread that will I doo,
As secret as mine owne thought, by god aud the deuil two.

Diccon

Here is gammer gurton your neighbour, a sad heuy wight
Her goodly faire red Cock, at home, was stole this last night.

Chat

Gogs soule her Cock with the yelow legs, yt nightly crowed so iust?

Diccon

That cocke is stollen.

Chat

What was he fet out of the heus ruste?

Diccon

I cau not tel where ye deuil he was kept, vnder key or locke,
But Tib hath tykled in Gaminers eare, that you shoulde steale the cocke

Chat

Haue I strouge hoore? by bread aud salte.

Diccon

What softe I say be styl.
Say hot one word for all this geare.

Chat

By the inasse that I wyl,
I wil haue the yong hore by the head, & the old trot by ye throte

Diccon

Not one word dame Chat I say, not one word for my cote.

Chat

Shall such a begars brawle as yt thinkest yu make me a theefe
The pocks light on her hores sydes, a pestlence & a mischeefe
Come out thou hungry nedy bytche, o that my nails be short.

Diccon

Gogs bred woman hold your peace this gere wil els passe sport
I wold not for an hundred pound this matter shuld be knowen,
That I am auctour of this tale or haue abrode it blowen
Did ye not sweare ye wold be ruled before the tale I tolde
I said ye must all secret keepe and ye said sure ye wolde.

Chat

Wolde you suffer your selfe diccon such a sort, to reuile you
With slaunderous words to blot your name, & so to defile you?

Diccon

No goodwife chat I wold be loth such drabs shulde blot my name
But yet ye must so order all, yt Diccon beare no blame.

Chat

Go to then, what is your rede? say on your minde, ye shall mee rule herein.

Diccon

Godamercye to dame chat, in faith thou must the gere begin
It is twenty pound to a goose turd, my gammer will not tary
But hetherward she comes as fast as her legs can her cary,
To brawle with you about her cocke, for well I hard Tib say
The Cocke was rosted in your house, to breafast yesterday,
And when ye had the carcas eaten, the fethers ye out flunge
And Doll your maid the legs she hid a foote depe in the dunge.

Chat

Oh gracyous god my harte it burstes.

Diccon

Well rule your selfe a space
And gammer gurton when she commeth anon into thys place
Then to the Queane lets see tell her your inynd & spare not
So shall Diccon blamelesse bee, and then go to I care not.

Chat

Then hoore beware her throte, I can abide no longer
In faith old witch it shalbe seene, which of vs two be stronger
And Diccon but at your request, I wold not stay one howre.

Diccon

Well keepe it in till she be here, and then out let it powre,
In the meane while get you in, and make no wordes of this
More of this matter wtin this howre to here you shall not misse
Because I know you are iny freind, hide it I cold not doubtles
Ye know your harm, see ye be wise about your owne busines
So fare ye well.

Chat

Nay soft Diccon and drynke, what Doll I say
Bringe here a cup of the best ale, lets see, come quicly awaye.

The ii. Actt. The iii. Sceane.

Diccon

Ye see masters ye one end tapt of this my short deuise
Now must we broche thoter to, before the smoke arise
And by the time they haue a while run, I trust ye need not craue it,
But loke what heth in both their harts ye ar hke sure to haue it

Hodgc

Yea gogs soule, art aliue yet? what Diccon dare ich come?

Diccon

A man is wel hied to trust to thee, I will say nothing but inum
But and ye come any nearer I pray you see all be sweete.

Hodge

Tush man is gammers neele found, that chould gladly weete

Diccon

She may thanke thee it is not found, for if yu had kept thy standing
The deuil he wold haue fet it out, euen hodg at thy commaunding

Hodge

Gogs hart, & cold he tel nothing wher the neele might be found

Diccon

Ye folysh dolt, ye were to seek ear we had got our ground,
Therfore his tale so doubtfull was, that I cold not perceiue it.

Hodge

Then ich se wel something was said, chope one day yet to haue it,
But diccon, diccon, did not the deuill cry ho, ho, ho,

Diccon

If yu hadst taryed where thou stoodst, thou woldest haue said so

Hodge

Durst swere of a boke, chard him rore, streight after ich was gon
But tel me diccon what said ye knaue: let me here it anon.

Diccon

The horson talked to mee. I know not well of what
One whyle his tonge it ran and paltered of a Cat,
Another whyle he stamered styll vppon a Rat,
Last of all there was nothing but euery word
Chat, Chat,
But this I well perceyued before I wolde him rid,
Betweene Chat and the Rat and the Cat, the nedle is hyd,
Now wether Gyb our cat haue eate it in her mawe,
Or Doctor Rat our curat haue found it in the straw,
Or this dame chat your neighbour haue stollen it, god hee knoweth
But by ye morow at this time, we shal learn how the inatter goeth

Hodge

Canst not learn to night man, seest not what is here,

Diccon

Tys not possyble to make it sooner appere,

Hodge

Alas Diccon then chaue no shyft but least ich tary to longe
Hye me to Sym glouers shop, theare to seeke for a Thonge,
Ther with this breech to tatche and tye as ich may.

Diccon

To inorow hodg if we chaunce to meete, shalt see what I will say.

The ii. Acte. The iiii. Sceane.

Diccon

Now this gere must torward goe, for here my gammer commeth,
Be still a while & say nothing, make here a litle romth.

Gammer

Good lord, shall neuer be my lucke my neele agayne to spye?
Alas the whyle tys past my helpe, where tis still it must lye.

Diccon

Now Iesus gammer gurton, what driueth you to this sadnes:
I feare me by my conscience you will sure fall to madnes.

Gammer

Who is that, what Diccon chaue lost man fye fye.
Diccon

Mary fy on them yt be worthy, but what shuld be your troble,

Gammer

Alas the more ich thinke on it, my sorow it waxeth doble
My goodly tossing sporyars neele, chaue lost ich wot not where.

Diccon

Your neele whan?

Gammer

My neele (alas ich myght full ill it spare,
As god him selfe he knoweth nere one besyde chaue.

Diccon

If this be all good gammer, I warrant you all is saue.

Gammer

Why know you any tydings which way my neele is gone?

Diccon

Yea that I do doubtlesse, as ye shall here anone,

A see a thing this inatter toucheth within these .xx. howres,
Euen at this gate, before my face, by a neyghbour of yours,
She stooped ine downe, and vp she toke a nedle or a pyn:
I durst be sworne it was euen yours, by all my mothers kyn.

Gammer

It was iny neele diccon ich wot, for here euen by this poste
Ich sat, what time as ich vp starte, and so my neele it loste:
Who was it leiue son? speke ich pray the, & quickly tell me that?

Diccon

A suttle queane as any in thys Towne your neyghboure here dame Chat.

Gammer

Dame chat diccon let me be gone, chil thyther in post haste.

Diccon

Take my councell yet or ye go, for feare ye walke in wast,
It is a inurrion crafty drab and froward to be pleased,
And ye take not the better way our nedle yet ye lose it:
For when she tooke it vp euen here before your doores
What soft dame chat (quoth I) that same is none of yours
Auant (quoth she) syr knaue, what pratest thou of that I fynd:
I wold y hadst kist me I wot whear: (she inent I know behind)
And home she went as brag, as it had ben a bodelouce,
And I after as bold, as it had ben, the goodinan of the house:
But there and ye had hard her, how she began to scolde
The tonge it went on patins, by hym that judas solde,
Ech other worde I was a knaue, and you a hore of hores,
Because I spake in your behalfe, and sayde the neele was yours.

Gammer

Gogs bread, and thinks ye callet thus to kepe my neele me fro?

Diccon

Let her alone, and she minds non other but euen to dresse you so

Gammer

By the masse chil rather spend the cote that is on my backe
Thinks the false quean by such a slyght, that chill my neele lacke

Diccon

Slepe not your gere I counsell you, but of this take good hede
Let not be knowen I told you of it, how well soeuer ye spede.

Gammer

Chil in Diccon a cleene aperne to take, and set before me,
And ich may my neele once see, chil sure remember the

The ii. Acte. The v. Sceane.

Diccon

Here will the sporte begin, if these two once may meete.
Their chere durst lay money will proue scarsly sweete
My gammer sure entends, to be vppon her bones,
With staues, or with clubs, or els with coble stones.

Dame Chat on the other syde, it she be far behynde
I am right far deceiued she is geuen to it of
He that may tarry by it a whyle, and that but shorte
I warrant hym trust to it, he shall see all the sporte
Into the towne will I, my frendes to vysit there
And hether straight againe to see thend of this gere
In the meane time felowes, pype vpp your fiddles,
I saie take them
And let your freyndes here such mirth as ye can make them.