Lady Brute. Then let us both forgive; [Kissing her.] for we have both offended: I, in making a Secret; you, in discovering it.
Bel. Good Nature may do much: But you have more Reason to forgive one, than I have to pardon t'other.
Lady Brute. 'Tis true, Belinda, you have given me so many Proofs of your Friendship, that my Reserve has been indeed a Crime: But that you may more easily forgive me, remember, Child, that when our Nature prompts us to a thing our Honour and Religion have forbid us; we wou'd (wer't possible) conceal even from the Soul itself, the Knowledge of the Body's Weakness.
Bel. Well, I hope, to make your Friend amends, you'll hide nothing from her for the future, tho' the Body shou'd still grow weaker and weaker.
Lady Brute. No, from this Moment I have no more Reserve; and for a Proof of my Repentance, I own, Belinda, I'm in danger. Merit and Wit assault me from without; Nature and Love sollicit me within; my Husband's barbarous Usage piques me to Revenge; and Satan, catching at the fair Occasion, throws in my way that Vengeance, which of all Vengeance pleases Women best.
Bel. 'Tis well Constant don't know the Weakness of the Fortification; for o' my Conscience he'd soon come on to the Assault.
Lady Brute. Ay, and I'm afraid carry the Town too. But whatever you may have observ'd, I have dissembled so well as to keep him ignorant. So you see I'm no Coquette, Belinda: And if you follow my Advice, you'll never be one neither. 'Tis true, Coquetry is one of the main Ingredients in the natural Composition of a Woman; and I, as well as others, cou'd be well enough pleas'd to see a Crowd of young Fellows ogling, and glancing, and watching all Occasions to do forty foolish officious Things: Nay, shou'd some of 'em push on, even to hanging or drowning, why—'faith—if I shou'd let pure Woman alone, I shou'd e'en be but too well pleas'd with it.
Bel. I'll swear 'twould tickle me strangely.
Lady Brute. But after all, 'tis a vicious Practice in us, to give the least Encouragement but where we design to come to a Conclusion. For 'tis an unreasonable thing to engage a Man in a Disease, which we beforehand resolve we never will apply a Cure to.