Own'd a divided heart—
Kath. My own would break—
Mrs. F. Why, what a blind and witless fool it is,
That will not see its gains, its infinite gains—
Kath. Gain in a loss.
Or mirth in utter desolation!
Mrs. F. He doating on a face—suppose it mine,
Or any other's tolerably fair—
What need you care about a senseless secret?
Kath. Perplex'd and fearful woman! I in part