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Hang your considering Lover; I ne’er thought beyond the Fancy, that ’twas a very pretty, idle, silly kind of Pleasure to pass one’s time with, to write little, soft, nonsensical Billets, and with great difficulty and danger receive Answers; in which I shall have my Beauty prais’d, my Wit admir’d (tho little or none) and have the Vanity and Power to know I am desirable; then I have the more Inclination that way, because I am to be a Nun, and so shall not be suspected to have any such earthly Thoughts about me—But when I walk thus—and sigh thus—they’ll think my Mind’s upon my Monastery, and cry, how happy ’tis she’s so resolv’d!—But not a Word of Man.

Behn, Aphra. The Rover.

Full text of The Rover: