Cypr. Tell me, tormentor, shall fair Agripyne,
Without more difference be now christened mine!
Agrip. My choice must be my father’s fair consent.
Athelst. Then shall thy choice end in this Cyprus prince.
Before the sun shall six times more arise,
His royal marriage will we solemnise.
Proclaim this honoured match! Come, Agripyne,
I am glad th’ art here, more glad the purse is mine.
[As they are going in, enter Andelocia and Shadow, disguised as Irish coster-mongers. Agripyne, Longaville, and Montrose stay listening to them, the rest exeunt.
Both. Buy any apples, feene apples of Tamasco,[396] feene Tamasco peepins: peeps feene, buy Tamasco peepins.
Agrip. Damasco apples? good my Lord Montrose,
Call yonder fellows.
Montr. Sirrah coster-monger.
Shad. Who calls: peeps of Tamasco, feene peeps: Ay, fat ’tis de sweetest apple in de world, ’tis better den de Pome water,[397] or apple John.[398]
Andel. By my trat, madam, ’tis reet Tamasco peepins, look here els.