Soften’d my yielding Heart—And then, I was a Slave—
Yet still had been content to’ve worn my Chains,
Worn ’em with Vanity and Joy for ever,
Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.
—’Twas then I was undone. [All this while follows him with a Pistol to his Breast.
Will. Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived?
Amongst the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man,
That has not broke a thousand Vows.
Ang. Oh, Impudence!
Will. Angelica! that Beauty has been too long tempting,