_Aman_. 'Tis true indeed; though he has done it in vain; nor
do I think that all the merit of mankind combined could shake the
tender love I bear my husband; yet I will own to you, Berinthia,
I did not start at his addresses, as when they came from one whom
I contemned.
_Ber. [Aside_.] Oh, this is better and better!--
[_Aloud_.] Well said, Innocence! and you really think, my
dear, that nothing could abate your constancy and attachment to
your husband?
_Aman_. Nothing, I am convinced.
_Ber_. What, if you found he loved another woman better?
_Aman_. Well!
_Ber_. Well!--why, were I that thing they call a slighted
wife, somebody should run the risk of being that thing they call--a
husband. 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: but you resolve then never to marry
again?
_Ber_. Oh no! I resolve I will.
_Aman_. How so?
_Ber_. That I never may.
_Aman_. You banter me.
_Ber_. Indeed I don't: but I consider I'm a woman, and form
my resolutions accordingly.
_Aman_. Well, my opinion is, form what resolutions you will,
matrimony will be the end on't.
_Ber_. I doubt it--but a--Heavens! I have business at home,
and am half an hour too late.