But now I bid farewell to her forever;
Though, when ’twere good and wholesome, I was froward.
No wretch more curs’d than I!
Syrus. He has misconstrued
All our discourse, I find—You fancy, Clinia,
Your mistress other than she is. Her life,
As far as we from circumstance could learn,
Her disposition tow’rd you, are the same.
Clin. How! tell me all: for there is naught on earth
I’d rather know than that my fears are false.