_Thu_. Shees gon! What vapor which the flattring sunn Exhales to heaven as to create a starr, Yet throwst, a fading meteor, to the earth, Has falne like me? Divinity, that tells Us there are soules in women, Ile no more Credit thy dubious _Theorems_ nor thinke Thy lawes astring us to preserve our faith. Let the nice Casuists, that dispute each clause Belongs to conscience with a[l]ternate sense, Dispense with breach of promise and prescribe Equivocacons to evade all oathes Without offending, or shees damnd. _Enter Lovell_. _Lov_. Well, Companion, at my friends Intreatie I am content to be reconsyld; but have a care, goe to, ha, oh ho, youle[104] ... more; why, goe to then ... pledge the companion ... heeres to thee: what, what! _Thu_. Heres one perchance will satisfie me. Sir, your habit speaks yer understanding: Please you resolve me one thing which disturbes The quiet of my conscience. _Lov_. Revenge may slumber but can never sleep: He that lets slip an Injury thats done Takes the next course to draw a greater on. _Thu_. You counsell well. I pray, in all the volumes Your learning has perusd, did you ere find Any conclusion that allowd it lawfull To breake an oath? _Lov_. If she neglect and throw[105] disgrace on thee, Fly't thou as much and be thy scorne as free. _Thu_. An Oracle speakes in him; but, pray, tell me Ist lawfull then to breake an oath? _Lov_. Though time prolongs, we cannot style it sloath: My vowes are firme; hees damd that breaks an oath. _Thu_. Good, good, agen: but the oath I treat on, Is of another kind: tis to a woman. _Lov_. It could not be her fault; there's a mistake in't. _Thu_. None o'my life, theres none. _Lov_. Let me see, let me see: No, twas not hers, twas _Grimeses_ knavery. _Thu_. Ha, whether did wild fancy lead my apprehension. He minds me not but is in disputation With his owne thoughts. _Lov_. Wilt thou pledge me ii cuppes? Why, goe to and goe to, then. Ha to thee, ha, sirra _Grimes_! --When man gainst man conspire to doe evill, For what Society is a fitt! _Thu_. The Devill. [_Claps him on the shoulder_. _Lov_. Oh helpe, helpe![106] [_Exit_. _Enter Lady_. _Lady_. I hope, sir, Noe occasion offerd in my house Breedes your distast; I should be sorry if It be soe, and conceald from me. _Thu_. Your goodnes Is to nice ore me; Ime exceeding well; Only some erring cogitations Trouble my braine a little. _Lady_. Tis much pitty Distraction should have roome in you; I would Not for the love you beare my daughter, have you Be discont[ent]ed here. _Thu_. And your daughter Repayes me kindly fort. _Lady_. Surely her breeding Affords her better manners then to iniure A gent[leman] of your deservings? _Thu_. Alas, she has not: Twas but an unkindness triviall Mong freinds not worth the nameing.