For had you not return’d, the breach between them
Had been made wider. But now, Pamphilus,
Both will, I doubt not, reverence your presence.
You’ll know the whole, make up their difference,
And reconcile them to each other.—These
Are all mere trifles, which you think so grievous.
Pam. Ah, why will you attempt to comfort me?
Was ever such a wretch?—Before I married,
My heart, you know, was wedded to another.
—But I’ll not dwell upon that misery,