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FRIAR: Dispute no more in this, for know, young man,

These are no shool-points; nice philosophy

May tolerate unlikely arguments,

But Heaven admits no jest; wits that presumed

On wit too much, by striving how to prove

There was no God, with foolish grounds of art,

Discovered first the nearest way to Hell;

And filled the world with devilish atheism.

Such questions, youth, are fond; for better 'tis,

To bless the sun, than reason why it shines;

Yet he though talk'st of is above the sun-

No more! I may not hear it.

GIOVANNI: Gentle Father,

To you I have unclasped my burdened soul,

Emptied the storehouse of my thoughts and heart,

Made myself poor of secrets; have not left

Another word untold, which hath not spoke

All what I ever durst, or think, or know;

And yet is here the comfort I shall