Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o’ t’other side⁠—O, my back, my back! Beshrew your heart for sending me about, To catch my death with jaunting up and down!

I’ faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Where is my mother! why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! “Your love says, like an honest gentleman, Where is your mother?”

O God’s lady dear! Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aching bones? Henceforward do your messages yourself.