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And since that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand alone, for even the day before, she broke her brow, and then my husband - God be with his soul, a was a merry man - took up the child, ‘Yea’, quoth he, ‘dost thou fall upon thy face? 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’. My lord and you were then at Mantua - nay, I do bear a brain. ’Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, and she was weaned - I never shall forget it - of all the days of the year, upon that day, for I had then laid wormwood to my dug, sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. But as I said, on Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen, that shall she, marry, I remember it well.
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Well, Susan is with God: she was too good for me. Susan and she - God rest all Christian souls! - were of an age. Even or odd, of all days in the year, come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen.