Ben Jonson - The Magnetick Lady. Act 2. Scene 2. lyrics

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 a**ure 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 co*kboat, '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 a**ure 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 pa**? 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.