CHARLES.
Pray, Edward, who made you my father confessor?
EDWARD.
You need not try to hide it, I saw you was determined not to buy a bargain.
CHARLES.
The pieces are worth the money, and it was incumbent on me to give fifty guilders for them. Believe me, he who will not, or cannot, give the full value for a thing should let it alone, and not attempt to defraud a person in distress.
EDWARD.
Do not suppose that I mean to blame you; you are frugal and sparing in every thing that respects your own private gratification, only to have it more in your power to be generous to others; you even chearfully bear inconveniences which you endeavour to guard your friends from; nay, you are as indulgent to them as severe on yourself.
CHARLES.
You are very obliging, Edward, but let us be serious. Must it not be very painful to an artist to hear his labour and trouble undervalued, by those who are unable to produce any thing like it themselves; nay, is it not unjust to endeavour to cheapen a thing, when you are conscious that only a reasonable price was demanded for it? In the present case, the French gentleman was impelled by his distress to offer them as a bargain; and could I take advantage of the distress of a fellow-creature?