You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
And mock us with our bareness.
Bert. How have I sworn?
Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth;
But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
What is not holy, that we swear not by,
But take the Highest to witness: Then, pray you, tell me,
If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,
I love'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
When I did love you ill? this has no holding,