No, damn it, I am much better.—Look there—Ha!—What is there I am not able to do? To be sure I am a little aukward at running; but then, to make me amends, I'll hop with any man in town for his sum.
SERJEANT.
Ay, and I'll go his halves.
Sir LUKE.
Then as to your dancing, I am cut out at Madam Cornelly's, I grant, because of the croud; but as far as a private set of six couple, or moving a chair-minuet, match me who can.
CHARLOT.
A chair-minuet! I don't understand you.
Sir LUKE.
Why, child, all grace is confined to the motion of the head, arms, and chest, which may sitting be as fully displayed, as if one had as many legs as a polypus.—As thus—tol de rol—don't you see?
SERJEANT.