And yet I should not hate thee for this Sin,
Since thou art bred in so much Innocence,
Thou couldst not dream of Falsity in Men:
Oh, that it were permitted me to kill this Prince,
This false perfidious Prince;
And yet he knows not that he has abus’d me.
When did I know a Man of so much Virtue,
That would refuse so sweet and soft a Maid?
—No, he is just and good, only too much misled
By Youth and Flattery;