g were possible, would you endure it, that
another Woman should be call'd the Mother of your Child?

_Fa._ By no Means.

_Eu._ Why then do you voluntarily make another Woman more than half the
Mother of what you have brought into the World?

_Fa._ O fy! _Eutrapelus_, I don't divide my Son in two, I am intirely
his Mother, and no Body in the World else.

_Eu._ Nay, _Fabulla_, in this Case Nature herself blames you to your
Face. Why is the Earth call'd the Mother of all Things? Is it because
she produces only? Nay, much rather, because she nourishes those Things
she produces: that which is produced by Water, is fed by Water. There is
not a living Creature or a Plant that grows on the Face of the Earth,
that the Earth does not feed with its own Moisture. Nor is there any
living Creature that does not feed its own Offspring. Owls, Lions, and
Vipers, feed their own Young, and does Womankind make her Offspring
Offcasts? Pray, what can be more cruel than they are, that turn their
Offspring out of Doors for Laziness, not to supply them with Food?

_Fa._ That you talk of is abominable.

_Eu._ But Womankind don't abominate it. Is it not a Sort of turning out
of Doors, to commit a tender little Infant, yet reaking of the Mother,
breathing the very Air of the Mother, imploring the Mother's Aid and
Help with its Voice, which they say will affect even a brute Creature,
to a Woman perhaps that is neither wholsome in Body, nor honest, who has
more Regard to a little Wages, than to your Child?

_Fa._ But they have made Choice of a wholsome, sound Woman.

_Eu._ Of this the Doctors are better Judges than yourself. But put the
Case, she is as healthful as yourself, and more too; do you think there
is no Difference between your little tender Infant's sucking its natural
and familiar Milk, and being cherish'd with Warmth it has been
accustomed to, and its being forc'd to accustom itself to those of a
Stranger? Wheat being sown in a strange Soil, degenerates into Oats or
small Wheat. A Vine being transplanted into another Hill, changes its
Nature. A Plant when it is pluck'd from its Parent Earth, withers, and
as it were dies away, and does in a Manner the same when it is
transplanted from its Native Earth.

_Fa._ Nay, but they say, Plants that have been transplanted and grafted,
lose their wild Nature, and produce better Fruit.

_Eu._ But not as soon as ever they peep out of the Ground, good Madam.
There will come a Time, by the Gr