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Enter CURCULIO, with a ring, from the house of PHÆDROMUS.
I've heard that an ancient Poet1 wrote in a Tragedy, that two women are worse than one; such is the fact. But a more crafty woman than is this mistress of Phædromus, I never saw or heard of, nor, i' faith, can one be spoken of or imagined; she, as soon as ever she saw that I had got this ring, asked me whence I got it. "Why do you ask that?" said I. "Because I've need to know," said she. I said I wouldn't tell her. To get it away, she seized hold of my hand with her teeth. With much ado I betook me out of doors, and made my escape. Away with this slut2.
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