_Iack_. A my word (_Will_) tis the great _Baboone_, that was to be seen
in _Southwarke_.

_Will_. Is this he? Gods my life what beastes were we, that we wood not
see him all this while, never trust me if he looke not somewhat like a
man: see how pretely he holds the torche in one of his forefeete: wheres
his keeper trowe, is he broke loose?

_Iack_. Hast ever an Apple about thee (_Will_)? Weele take him up; sure,
we shall get a monstrous deale of mony with him.

_Will_. That we shall yfath, boy! and looke thou here, heres a red
cheeckt apple to take him up with.

_Ia_. Excellent fit a my credit; lets lay downe our provant, and to him.

_Bul_. Ile let them alone a while.

_Ia_. Give me the apple to take up _Iack_, because my name is _Iack_.

_Will_. Hold thee, _Iack_, take it.

_Ia_. Come, _Iack_, come, _Iack_, come, _Iack_.

_Bul_. I will come to you sir, Ile _Iack_ ye a my word, Ile _Iack_ ye.

_Will_. Gods me he speakes, _Iack_. O pray pardon us, Sir.

_Bul_. Out, ye _mopede monckies_, can yee not knowe a man from a
_Marmasett_, in theis Frenchified dayes of ours? nay, ile _Iackefie_