You findë not replete of humours hot; And if it do, I dare well lay a groat, That ye shall have a fever tertiane, Or else an ague, that may be your bane, A day or two ye shall have digestives Of wormës, ere ye take your laxatives, Of laurel, centaury, 4296 and fumeterére, 4297 Or else of elder-berry, that groweth there, Of catapuce, 4298 or of the gaitre-berries, 4299 Or herb ivy growing in our yard, that merry is: Pick them right as they grow, and eat them in, Be merry, husband, for your father’s kin; Dreadë no dream; I can say you no more.”