MADAM POTIPHAR. Nothing new. You know what I think about this Joseph of yours.
POTIPHAR. (irritated) Now, if you are going to bring that subject up again—! Well, I tell you flatly, I won't do it.
MADAM POTIPHAR. You'd better take my advice!
POTIPHAR. It's the most unreasonable thing I ever heard of! For the first time in my life I get an efficient secretary—and you want me to get rid of him. It's ridiculous. What have you against Joseph, anyway?
MADAM POTIPHAR. I—I don't think he's honest.
POTIPHAR. Honest! Who expects the secretary of a government official to be honest? I don't want an honest man in charge of my affairs—all I want is a capable one. Besides, how would I know whether he is honest or not? I can't bother to go over his accounts, and I couldn't understand them if I did. Mathematics, my dear, is not an art that high-class Egyptians excel in. It takes slaves and Hebrews for that.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Well, just because he is able to add up a row of figures is no reason why he should be so high-handed with everybody. One would think he was the master here, instead of a slave.
POTIPHAR. A private secretary, my dear, is different from an ordinary slave. You mustn't expect him to behave like a doorkeeper. I remember now, he complained that you kept wanting him to run errands for you.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Yes, and he refused—in the most insolent manner. He is a proud and scheming man, I tell you. I am sure he is plotting some villainy against you.
POTIPHAR. (wearily) Yes, you have said that before.