Ben Jonson — The Magnetick Lady. Act 2. Scene 2.

            Polish, Keep, Placentia, Pleasence, Needle.     Pol. How now, my dainty Charge, and diligent Nurse? What were you chanting on? (God bless you Maiden.)                     [To her Daughter kneeling.     Keep. We were inchanting all; wishing a Husband For my young Mistris here. A man to please her.     Pol. She shall have a Man, good nurse, and must have a Man: A Man and a half, if we can choose him out: We are all in Counsel within, and sit about it: The Doctors and the Scholars; and my Lady, Who's wiser then all us -- Where's Mr.Needle? Her Ladiship so lacks him to prick out The Man? How does my sweet young Mistris? You look not well methinks! how do you, dear Charge? You must have a Husband, and you shall have a Husband. There's two put out to making for you: A Third Your Uncle promises: But you must still Be rul'd by your Aunt, according to the Will Of your dead Father and Mother (who are in Heaven.) Your Lady-Aunt has choise i'the House for you: We do not trust your Uncle; he would keep you A Batchelor still, by keeping of your Portion: And keep you not alone without a Husband, But in a sickness: I, and the Green-sickness, A kind of Disease, I can assure you, And like the Fish our Mariners call Remora --     Keep. A Remora Mistris!     Pol. How now, Goody Nurse? Dame Keep of Katerns? what? have you an Oar I' the Cockboat, 'cause you are a Sailors Wife, And come from Shawdell? I say a Remora: For it will stay a Ship that's under sail! And Stays are long and tedious things to Maids! And Maidens are young Ships that would be sailing When they be rigg'd: wherefore is all their trim else?     Nee. True; and for them to be staid, --     Pol. The stay is dangerous: You know it Mr. Needle.     Nee. I know somewhat: And can assure you, from the Doctors Mouth, She has a Dropsie; and must change the Air, Before she can recover.     Pol.Say you so, Sir?     Nee. The Doctor says so.     Pol. Says his Worship so? I warren'em he says true then; they sometimes Are Sooth-sayers, and always cunning Men. Which Doctor was it?     Nee. E'en my Ladies Doctor: The neat House-Doctor: But a true Stone-Doctor.     Pol. Why? hear you, Nurse? How comes this jeer to pass? This is your fault in truth: It shall be your fault, And must be your fault: why is your Mistris sick? She had her health, the while she was with me.     Kee. Alas good Mistris polish, I am no Saint, Much less, my lady, to be urg'd give Health, Or Sickness at my Will: but to wait The Stars good Pleasure, and to do my duty.     Pol. You must do more than your duty, foolish Nurse: You must do all you can; and more than you can, More than is possible; when Folks are sick, Especially a Mistris, a young Mistris.     Kee. Here's Mr. Doctor himself cannot do that.     Pol. Doctor Do-all can do it. Thence he's call'd so.