I'll banish all these idle, meddling wits,
These boggy brains that spring with toadstool thrones
Decked with a deity.
The. And yet the gods
Now hear thee!
Phil. Say they do, love rules 'mong gods
As men. Doubt not they'll wink at my warm suit.
The. O, thy black soul will be the scorn of devils
When hell has claimed thee!