Believe my self so bless’d to be belov’d.
Ant. How, to be belov’d by her!
—Oh dire effects of Jealousy!
Alb. All that you saw to day was only feign’d,
To let you see, that even your Eyes and Ears
Might be impos’d upon.
Ant. Can it be possible!
Alb. And now she thinks she is enough reveng’d;
And lets you know, in her feign’d Scorn to me,
That all your Sleights and Cunnings are but vain: