The fyrst Acte. The thyrd Sceane. Hodge. Tyb. Hodge CHam agast by the masse, ich wot not what to do Chad nede blesse me well before ich go them to Perchaunce sonie felon sprit may haunt our house indeed, And then chwere but a noddy to venter where cha no neede Tib Cham worse then mad by the masse to be at this staye Cham chyd cham blamd, and beaton all thoures on the daye, Lamed and hunger storued, prycked vp all in Jagges Hauyng no patch to hyde my backe, saue a few rotten ragges. Hodge I say Tyb, if thou be Tyb, as I trow sure thou bee, What deuyll make a doe is this betweene our dame and thee. Tyb Gogsbreade Hodg thou had a good turne thou warte not here this while. It had ben better for some of vs to haue ben hence a myle My Gammer is so out of course, and frantyke all at ones That Cocke our boy, & I poore wench haue felt it on our bones. Hodge What is the matter, say on Tib wherat she taketh so on. Tyb She is vndone she sayth (alas,) her ioye and life is gone If shee here not of some comfort, she is sayth but dead Shall neuer come within her lyps, one inch of meate ne bread. Hodge Bur Ladie cham not very glad, to see her in this dumpe Cholde a noble her stole hath fallen, & shee hath broke her rumpe Tyb Nay and that were the worst, we wold not greatly care For bursting of her huckle bone, or breakyng of her Chaire But greatter greater is her grief, as hodge we shall all feele. Hodge Gogs woundes Tyb, my gammer has neuer lost her Neele? ryb Her Neele. Hodge Her Neele? rib Her neele by him that made me, it is true Hodge I tell thee. Hodge Gogs sacrament, I would she had lost tharte out of her bellie The Deuill or els his dame, they ought her sure a shame How a murryon came this chaunce. (say Tib) vnto our dame? Tyb My gammer sat her downe on her pes, & bad me reach thy breeches And by & by, a vengeance in it or she had take two stitches To clap a clout vpon thine ars, by chaunce a syde she leares And gyb our cat in the milke pan, she spied ouer head and eares Ah hore out thefe she cryed aloud, & swapt the breches downe Up went her staffe, and out leapt gyb, at doors into the towne And synce that time was neuer wyght, cold set their eies vpon it Gogs malison chaue Cocke and I, byd twenty times light on it. Hodge And is not then my breches sewid vp, to morow yt I shuld were Tyb No in faith hodge thy breeches lie, for al this neuer the nere. Hodge Now a vengeance light on al ye sort, yt better shold haue kept it, The cat the house, and tib our maid, yt better shold haue swept it Se where she commeth crawling come on in twenty deuils way Ye haue made a fayre daies worke haue you not? pray you say.