Bendish: And the lawyer's widow?

Cadwell: She isn't rich.

Bendish: And her sister?

Cadwell: She cannot stand the odor of tobacco.

Bendish: The odor of tobacco? My G.o.d! Of all these ladies there isn't one over whom you haven't troubled my head. "Ah, Bendish, tell me she's totally charming. I will love her all my life. I will suffer a thousand deaths rather than even think of changing--" I hear you, I look at her, I examine her, I conclude you are right. The next day, I am a fool. She lacks a delicate heart. Her manners are rude; she loves you too much; she is jealous, or too indifferent; she cannot stand the odor of tobacco. You always find some fault in them to justify YOUR inconstancy.

Cadwell: What do you care?

Bendish: Huh? What do I care? You don't consider the false oaths I've taken time and again.

Cadwell: Why do you do that?

Bendish: To reestablish your tottering reputation.

Cadwell: Who placed it in your care?

Bendish: Oh! Oh! This isn't bad. Who made it my duty, you say?

Cadwell: Yes?

Bendish: My honor?

Cadwell: The honor of Bendish?

Bendish: a.s.suredly. You wouldn't have me confirm your reputation as the most rascally, the most vain, the most faithless, the least amorous man in the world would you?

Cadwell: It wouldn't please me at all.

Bendish: Eh! What would you have me reply to such accusations? For you're seeing only the rough draft of the portrait they paint of you these days. What would you have me say?

Cadwell: Nothing. Be quiet--and begin now.

Bendish: Oh, sir, he who says nothing admits and I do not want anyone in the world to believe that I know your character, and besides, I plan to improve my business and yours, for you see everyone thinks of his own self interest. I need only be silent in response to the hundred questions put to me. "My poor Bendish," said one. "Here's a finger ring. I beg you tell me what your master's up to. What time does he come in? What's he like when he doesn't see me? Does he think of me?

Does he speak to you of me? Is he restless, happy, sad, gay, melancholy, at ease, taciturn, giddy, chagrined, joking, wise, crazy?"

What the devil do I know--a hundred thousand other things of a like nature.

Cadwell: Well--what do you reply to all this?

Bendish: According to the ring.

Cadwell: Ah! I know quite well that with you my honor and yours march quite separately--according to your interest.-- Let's change the subject. Do you know what?

Bendish: What?

Cadwell: I believe I'm in love.

Bendish: What! In love? Love in good faith?

Cadwell: Yes, I tell you, in love.

Bendish: But are you talking seriously?

Cadwell: Must I give myself to the Devil for you to believe me?

Bendish: And Laura?

Cadwell: Oh! Laura, Laura! She's not aware of it.

Bendish: Better for you. But tell me--how long will it last?

Cadwell: You ask me too much. As if one could respond to that?

Bendish: Do I know her?

Cadwell: You know her.

Bendish: You must have loved her for only a short time--for I've never heard you speak of her.

Cadwell: Uh--a little while.

Bendish: Is she pretty? Good! Plague on the fool for asking it. You will tell me shortly. Where does she reside? Far from here?

Cadwell: No.

Bendish: Better still. For in the beginning of these things it's devilishly tiresome to carry three letters back and forth day in day out.

Cadwell: No trouble to do it. You can do it without going out.

Bendish: How's that?

Cadwell: She resides here.

Bendish: Is it Olivia?

Cadwell: You have said it.

Bendish: Ah, sir--!

Cadwell: (interrupting him) What's wrong with you?

Bendish: Have you considered carefully what you are doing?

Cadwell: Very carefully.

Bendish: Olivia is a friend of Laura. In her sight. You cannot be thinking or you intend to lose everything. Eh, sir, where is the probity, the honor. Think, I tell you--