Wife. Do my good Ge[o]rge, do.
Cit. What shall we have Rafe do now boy?
Boy. You shall have what you will sir.
Cit. Why so sir, go and fetch me him then, and let the Sophy of Persia come and christen him a child.
Boy. Believe me Sir, that will not do so well, 'tis stale, it has been had before at the Red Bull.
Wife. George, let Rafe travell over great hills, and let him be [very] weary, and come to the King of Cracovia's house, covered with velvet, and there let the Kings daughter stand in her window all in beaten gold, combing her golden locks with a comb of Ivory, and let her spye Rafe, and fall in love with him, and come down to him, and carry him into her fathers house, and then let Rafe talk with her.
Cit. Well said Nel, it shall be so: boy let's ha't done quickly.
Boy. Sir, if you will imagine all this to be done already, you shall hear them talk together: but we cannot present a house covered with black Velvet, and a Lady in beaten gold.
Cit. Sir Boy, lets ha't as you can then.