Paul. That will alter the case. But how will you manage it?
Pierre. This is the whole secret. You know that wood pays an entrance duty of ten sous per cord. To-morrow I will induce the Aldermen to raise this duty to one hundred, two hundred, or three hundred livres, so high as to keep out every fagot. Well, do you see? If the good people do not want to die of cold, they must come to my wood-yard. They will fight for my wood; I shall sell it for its weight in gold, and this well-regulated deed of charity will enable me to do others of the same sort.
Paul. This is a fine idea, and it suggests an equally good one to me.
Jean. Well, what is it?
Paul. How do you find this Normandy butter?
Jean. Excellent.
Paul. Well, it seemed passable a moment ago. But do you not think it is a little strong? I want to make a better article at Paris. I will have four or five hundred cows, and I will distribute milk, butter and cheese to the poor people.
Pierre and Jean. What! as a charity?
Paul. Bah, let us always put charity in the foreground. It is such a fine thing that its counterfeit even is an excellent card. I will give my butter to the people and they will give me their money. Is that called selling?
Jean. No, according to the Bourgeois Gentilhomme; but call it what you please, you ruin yourself. Can Paris compete with Normandy in raising cows?