"I do not calumniate virtue, Henri; I accuse vice, that is all. I repeat that this is a miserable woman, and not worth all the torments she makes you suffer. Oh! mon Dieu! in such a case you should use all your strength and all your power, Henri. In your place, I should have taken her house by assault, and then herself; and when she was conquered, and came to throw her arms round your neck and say, 'Henri, I adore you,' I should have repulsed her, and said, 'You do well, madame; it is your turn—I have suffered enough for you—to suffer also.'"
Henri seized his brother's hand. "You do not mean a word of what you say," said he.
"Yes, on my honor."
"You, so good—so generous!"
"Generosity with heartless people is folly."
"Oh! Joyeuse, Joyeuse, you do not know this woman."
"No, I do not wish to know her."
"Why not?"
"Because she would make me commit what others would call a crime, but which I should call an act of justice."
"Oh! my good brother, how lucky you are not to be in love. But, if you please, let us leave my foolish love, and talk of other things."