You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead.
Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.
You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What masque, what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time if not with some delight?
Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
I have trod a measure, I have flattered a lady, I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy.
For you and I are past our dancing days.