“Littlewit. Shew him ’em, shew him ’em. Master Lantern; this is a gentleman that is a favourer of the quality.
[Leatherhead brings the puppets out in a basket.]
“Cokes. What! do they live in baskets?
“Leatherhead. They do lie in a basket, sir: they are o’ the small players.
“Cokes. These be players minor indeed. Do you call these players?
“Leatherhead. They are actors, sir, and as good as any, none dispraised, for dumb shows: Indeed I am the mouth of ’em all.—This is he that acts young Leander, sir; and this is lovely Hero; this, with the beard, Damon; and this, pretty Pythias: this is the ghost of king Dionysius, in the habit of a scrivener: as you shall see anon, at large.
“Cokes. But do you play it according to the printed book? I have read that.
“Leatherhead. By no means, sir.
“Cokes. No? How then?