Both. Peepes feene, buy any peepes of Tamasco?
Longa. Did not the Lord Montrose return to you?
Both. No fat, sweet master, no lord did turn to us: peepes feene!
Longa. I am glad of it; here are nine crowns for three.
What are the virtues besides making fair?
Andel. O, ’twill make thee wondrous wise.
Shad. And dow shall be no more a fool, but sweet face and wise.
Longa. ’Tis rare, farewell, I never yet durst woo.
None loves me: now I’ll try what these can do. [Exit.
Andel. Ha, ha, ha. So, this is admirable, Shadow, here end my torments in Saint Patrick’s Purgatory, but thine shall continue longer.
Shad. Did I not clap on a good false Irish face?