_Aman._ He answers then the Opinion I had ever of him. Heavens! What a difference there is between a Man like him, and that vain nauseous Fop, Sir _Novelty_! [_Taking her Hand._] I must acquaint you with a Secret, Cousin. 'Tis not that Fool alone has talked to me of Love, _Worthy_ has been tampering too: 'Tis true, he has done it in vain: Not all his Charms or Art have power to shake me. My Love, my Duty, and my Virtue, are such faithful Guards, I need not fear my Heart shou'd e'er betray me. But what I wonder at is this: I find I did not start at his Proposal, as when it came from one whom I contemn'd. I therefore mention this Attempt, that I may learn from you whence it proceeds, that Vice, which cannot change its Nature, shou'd so far change at least its Shape, as that the self-same Crime propos'd from one shall seem a Monster gaping at your Ruin, when from another it shall look so kind, as tho' it were your Friend, and never meant to harm you. Whence think you, can this Difference proceed? For 'tis not Love, Heaven knows. _Ber._ O no; I wou'd not for the World believe it were. But possibly, shou'd there a dreadful Sentence pass upon you, to undergo the Rage of both their Passions; the Pain you apprehend from one might seem so trivial to the other, the Danger wou'd not quite so much alarm you. _Aman._ Fy, fy, _Berinthia_! you wou'd indeed alarm me, cou'd you incline me to a Thought, that all the Merit of Mankind combin'd, cou'd shake that tender Love I bear my Husband: No, he sits triumphant in my Heart, and nothing can dethrone him. _Ber._ But shou'd he abdicate again, do you think you shou'd preserve the vacant Throne ten tedious Winters more, in hopes of his return? _Aman._ Indeed I think I shou'd. Tho' I confess, after those Obligations he has to me, shou'd he abandon me once more, my Heart wou'd grow extremely urgent with me to root him thence, and cast him out for ever. _Ber._ Were I that thing they call a slighted Wife, some Body shou'd run the risque of being that thing they call--a Husband. _Aman._ O fy, _Berinthia_! No Revenge shou'd ever be taken against a Husband: But to wrong his Bed is a Vengeance, which of all Vengeance---- _Ber._ Is the sweetest--ha, ha, ha! Don't I talk madly? _Aman._ Madly indeed. _Ber._ Yet I'm very innocent. _Aman._ That I dare swear you are. I know how to make Allowances for your Humour: You were always very entertaining Company; but I find since Marriage and Widowhood have shewn you the World a little, you are very much improv'd. _Ber._ [_Aside._] Alack a-day, there has gone more than that to improve me, if she knew all. _Aman._ For Heaven's sake, _Berinthia_, tell me what way I shall take to persuade you to come and live with me? _Ber._ Why, one way in the World there is----and but one. _Aman._ Pray which is that? _Ber._ It is to assure me--I shall be very welcome. _Aman._ If that be all, you shall e'en lie here to-night. _Ber._ To-night? _Aman._ Yes, to-night.