Susan. “No rhodomantade, Figaro—Tell me the simple truth.
Figaro. “By the truest of all Truths I swear—
Susan. “Truest of Truths!—Are there various kinds of Truths then?
Figaro. “No doubt.
Susan. “Fie!
Figaro. “There are Truths that may be spoken: such as the Peccadillos of a poor Rascal! Truths that may not be spoken: such as the Robberies of a rich Rascal—There are your Truths comprehensible: such as that two and two make four; and your Truths incomprehensible: such as that two and two make five—Then there are your Tradesman’s Truths, which he retails to his Customers, your Lover’s Truths, which he pours wholesale into his Mistress’s ear—Your Courtier’s Truths, on which he feeds his Dependants and Parasites—Your Court of Law, or Kiss-the-Book Truths, which are the daily support of a vast number of very honest people—There are also your physical and metaphysical Truths—Your old Truths and your new Truths—Your heterodox and orthodox Truths—Your Mahometan Truths, your Jewish Truths, and your—other kind of truths, concerning which there never was nor ever will be any doubt—Not to mention your Truths in fashion: such as that Idleness, Ignorance, Dissipation, Gaming and Seduction are the requisites of a Gentleman—And your Truths out of fashion: such as that Gentleness, Obedience, Œconomy, and connubial Love are the requisites of a Gentlewoman.
Susan. “I find by your account of the matter, Figaro, that poor Truth, like a Lottery Ticket, is so divided and sub-divided, so halved, quartered, cut, carv’d, split and spliced, it is no where entire to be found.
Figaro. “No where.
Susan. “And moreover, that what is Truth to-day may be a Lie to-morrow.
Figaro. “May be! Must be.