There’s this husband I heard about — his wife cheated on him with another man and then a second other man and then a third one, etc. The precise number, I don’t know — but more than is decent, let’s say.
When he found out about his wife, the husband despaired. Despaired considerably, even. Crying, moaning — all that. This husband, he even went so far as to rend his garments.
“What’ll I do now?” he said through his tears to no one (because no one was there). “Not only don’t I have a wife — what’s more is, all my garments are totally rended.”
Rended, is what he said, of course — while rent is the actual past participle form of the verb to rend. Such was the extent of his grief, we observe, that he failed even to recognize his error.