Listen well to me, my amorous and tender pair of turtle-doves, and mark what I have to say to you.

One cannot always tell the wolf by his hide, for he sometimes put on a sheep's skin; and so, too, a man cannot always be recognized by his voice, for he sometimes borrows that of his neighbor.

Thus, for example, I know a certain John Heywood, who can mimic exactly the voice of a certain little miss named Tib, and who knows how to warble as she herself: 'Hodge, my dear Hodge!'" And he repeated to them exactly, and with the same tone and expression, the words that the voice had previously cried.
"Ah, it was you, sir ?" cried Hodge, with a broad grin--"that Tib in the court there, that Tib about whom we have been pummelling each other ?" "I was Tib, Hodge--I who was present during the whole of your quarrel, and found it hugely comical to send Tib's voice thundering into the midst of our lovers' quarrel, like a cannon-stroke! Ah, ha! Hodge, that was a fine bomb-shell, was it not?
And as I said 'Hodge, my dear Hodge,' you tumbled about like a kernel of corn which a dung-beetle blows with his breath.

No, no, my worthy and virtuous Gammer Gurton, it was not Tib who called the handsome Hodge, and more than that, I saw Tib, as your contest began, go out at the courtyard gate." "It was not Tib!" exclaimed Gammer Gurton, much moved, and happy as love could make her.

"It was not Tib, and she was not in the court at all, and Hodge could not then go down to her, while I went to the shopkeeper's to buy needles.