The fire was sure bewitch'd, and therefore would not burn:
At last Gib up the stairs, among the old posts and pins,
And Hodge he hied him after, till broke were both his shins:
Cursing and swearing oaths were never of his making,
That Gib would fire the house, if that she were not taken.
Gammer. See, here is all the thought that the foolish urchin taketh!
And Tib, me-think, at his elbow almost as merry maketh.
This is all the wit ye have, when others make their moan:
Come down, Hodge, where art thou? and let the cat alone.
Hodge. Gog's heart, help and come up: Gib in her tail hath fire,