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"The Spanish Curate A Comedy"


Those are unseemly: move one can serve ye,
Can honour ye, can love ye.
_Am_.
'Pray ye tell quickly,
He will return, and then.
_Lean_.
I'le tell ye instantly,
Move me, and I will move any way to serve ye,
Move your heart this way, Lady.
_Am_.
How?
_Lean_.
'Pray ye hear me.
Behold the sport of love, when he is imperious,
Behold the slave of love.
_Am_.
Move my Queen this way?
Sure, he's some worthy man: then if he hedge me,
Or here to open him.
_Lean_.
Do but behold me,
If there be pity in you, do but view me,
But view the misery I have undertaken
For you, the povertie.
_Am_.
He will come presently.
Now play your best Sir, though I lose this Rook here,
Yet I get libertie.
_Lean_.
I'le seise your fair hand,
And warm it with a hundred, hundred kisses.
The God of love warm your desires but equal,
That shall play my game now.
_Am_.
What do you mean Sir?
Why do you stop me?
_Lean_.


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