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"The Spanish Curate A Comedy"


_Enter_ Bartolus, _and_ Amaranta.
_Amar_.
Why will ye bring men in, and yet be jealous?
Why will ye lodge a young man, a man able,
And yet repine?
_Bar_.
He shall not trouble thee, sweet,
A modest poor slight thing, did I not tell thee
He was only given to the Book, and for that
How Royally he paies? finds his own meat too.
_Amar_.
I will not have him here: I know your courses,
And what fits you will fall into of madness.
_Bar_.
'Faith, I will not, Wife.
_Amar_.
I will not try ye.
_Bar_.
He comes not near thee: shall not dare to tread
Within thy Lodgings: in an old out-Room
Where Logs, and Coles were laid.
_Amar_.
Now ye lay fire; fire to consume your quiet.
_Bar_.
Didst thou know him,
Thou wouldst think as I do: he disquiet thee?
Thou mayst wear him next thy heart, and yet not warm him.
His mind (poor man) 's o'th' Law, how to live after,
And not on lewdness: on my Conscience
He knows not how to look upon a Woman
More than by reading what Sex she is.


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