With promise of repentance when he’s old,
And dies in the midway before he comes to ‘t.
Sure you’re not well, Bianca! How dost, prithee?
Bian. I have been better than I am at this time.
Lean. Alas, I thought so.
Bian. Nay, I have been worse too,
Than now you see me, sir.
Lean. I’m glad thou mendst yet,
I feel my heart mend too. How came it to thee?
Has any thing dislik’d thee in my absence?