| myShakespeare

Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit,

Wilt thou not, Jule?' and by my holidam,

The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'

To see now how a jest shall come about.

I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,

I never should forget it. 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he,

And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'

Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh,

To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'

And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow

A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone;

A perilous knock, and it cried bitterly.

'Yea,' quoth my husband, 'fall'st upon thy face?

Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age,

Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'

And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.

3