Casalonga. Pshaw! Bread and butter—bread and butter, man! A mere pittance. It occurred to me that they would sell better here than anywhere else—this is where he lived. So I came this morning third class—think of that, third class!—and hurried at once to this fellow's shop. I placed two thousand copies with him, which he took from me at a horrible discount. You know what these booksellers are....
Valdivieso. I call you to witness—what was customary under the circumstances. He was selling for cash.
Casalonga. Am I the man to deny it? You can divide mankind into two classes—knaves and fools.
Valdivieso. Listen to this—
Casalonga. You are not one of the fools.
Valdivieso. I protest! How am I to profit by the transaction? Do you suppose that I shall sell a single copy of this libel now that I know that it is offensive to my particular, my excellent friend, Don Florencio, and to his respected wife?
Florencio. Thanks, friend Valdivieso, thanks for that.
Valdivieso. I shall burn the edition, although you can imagine what that will cost.
Florencio. The loss will be mine. It will be at my expense.
Casalonga. What did I tell you? Florencio will pay. What are you complaining about?—If I were in your place, though, I'd be hanged if I would give the man one penny.