Fontanares
What kind of a man is this Don Ramon?
Monipodio
He is an ass.
Quinola
Is he envious?
Monipodio As three rejected play-writers. He makes himself out to be a wonderful man.
Quinola
But does any one believe him?
Monipodio They look upon him as an oracle. He scribbles off his treatises, explaining that the snow is white because it falls from heaven, and he maintains, in contradiction to Galileo, that the earth does not move.
Quinola
Do you not plainly see, senor, that I must rid you of this
philosopher? (To Monipodio) You come with me; you must be my servant.
(Exeunt.)
SCENE SEVENTH
Fontanares (alone) What brain, even though it be encased in bronze, could stand the strain of this search after money, while also making an inquiry into the most jealously guarded secrets of nature? How can the mind, engaged in such quests, have time for distrusting men, fighting them, and combining others against them? It is no easy thing to see at once what course had best be taken, in order to prevent Don Ramon from stealing my glory, and Don Ramons abound on every side. I at last dare to avow that my endurance is exhausted.