Tyb. No, in faith, Hodge, thy breeches lie for al this never the nere.
Hodge. Now a vengeance light on al the sort, that better shold have kept it, 40
The cat, the house, and Tib, our maid, that better shold have swept it!
Se where she cometh crawling! Come on, in twenty devils way!
Ye have made a fayre daies worke, have you not? pray you, say!
The fyrst Acte. The iiii. Sceane.
Gammer. Hodge. Tyb. Cocke.
Gammer. Alas, Hoge, alas! I may well cursse and ban A iv
This daie, that ever I saw it, with Gyb and the mylke pan;
For these and ill lucke togather, as knoweth Cocke, my boye,