Dishonouring!’ did I say so? I must mean,
My senses still half-drown’d, my love for you
That would not have you pain’d. A true love, Felix,
Though a mistaken, may be, as you say,
Yet no dishonour.
Fel. Still I have not heard
What caused this illness.
Anna (aside). He presses hard upon me,
But I’ll out-double him. (Aloud.) The cause of it?
Why—sitting in this room,