SURFACE. Ah: my dear--Madam there is the great mistake--'tis this
very conscious Innocence that is of the greatest Prejudice to you--
what is it makes you negligent of Forms and careless of the world's
opinion--why the consciousness of your Innocence--what makes you
thoughtless in your Conduct and apt to run into a thousand little
imprudences--why the consciousness of your Innocence--what makes you
impatient of Sir Peter's temper, and outrageous at his suspicions--
why the consciousness of your own Innocence--

LADY TEAZLE. 'Tis very true.

SURFACE. Now my dear Lady Teazle if you but once make a trifling
Faux Pas you can't conceive how cautious you would grow, and how
ready to humour and agree with your Husband.

LADY TEAZLE. Do you think so--

SURFACE. O I'm sure on't; and then you'd find all scandal would
cease at once--for in short your Character at Present is like
a Person in a Plethora, absolutely dying of too much Health--

LADY TEAZLE. So--so--then I perceive your Prescription is that
I must sin in my own Defence--and part with my virtue to preserve
my Reputation.--

SURFACE. Exactly so upon my credit Ma'am[.]

LADY TEAZLE. Well certainly this is the oddest Doctrine--and the
newest Receipt for avoiding calumny.