in his long stocking, if he had a little harness about his neck. George, I will have him dance fading.—Fading is a fine jig, I’ll assure you, gentlemen.—Begin, brother. [Boy dances .] Now ’a capers, sweetheart!—Now a turn o’ the toe, and then tumble! cannot you tumble, youth?
Boy . No, indeed, forsooth.
Wife . Nor eat fire?
Boy . Neither.
Wife . Why, then, I thank you heartily; there’s twopence to buy you points withal.]