University of Virginia Library

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 some felon sprit may haunt our house indeed,
And then chwere but at 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 Iagges
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.
Gogs breade Hodg thou had a good turne thou warte not here this whyle.
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
Byr 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?

Tyb.
Her Neele.

Hodge
Her Neele?

Tib.
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 gāmer sat her downe on her pes, & bad me reach thy breeches
And by & by, a vengeāce 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 vpō it
Gogs malison chaue Cocke and I, byd twenty times light on it.

Hodge
And is not thē 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 vēgeance 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 cōmeth crawling, come on in twenty deuils way
Ye haue made a fayre daies worke, haue you not? pray you say.