dle. It is impossible that any one should wish to turn a
noble action into a crime. But explain to me, dear Major.

MAJ. T.
You remember, Madam, that I had orders to collect the contribution for
the war most strictly in cash in all the districts in your
neighbourhood. I wished to forego this severity, and advanced the
money that was deficient myself.

MIN.
I remember it well. I loved you for that deed before I had seen you.

MAJ. T.
The government gave me their bill, and I wished, at the signing of the
peace, to have the sum entered amongst the debts to be repaid by them.
The bill was acknowledged as good, but my ownership of the same was
disputed. People looked incredulous, when I declared that I had myself
advanced the amount in cash. It was considered as bribery, as a
douceur from the government, because I at once agreed to take the
smallest sum with which I could have been satisfied in a case of the
greatest exigency. Thus the bill went from my possession, and if it be
paid, will certainly not be paid to me. Hence, Madam, I consider my
honour to be suspected! not on account of my discharge, which, if I
had not received, I should have applied for. You look serious, Madam!
Why do you not laugh? Ha! ha! ha! I am laughing.

MIN.
Oh! stifle that laugh, Tellheim, I implore you! It is the terrible
laugh of misanthropy. No, you are not the man to repent of a good
deed, because it may have had a bad result for yourself. Nor can these
consequences possibly be of long duration. The truth must come to
light. The testimony of my uncle, of our government!!!!!

MAJ. T.
Of your uncle! Of your government! Ha! ha! ha!

MIN.
That laugh will kill me, Tellheim. If you believe in virtue and
Providence, Tellheim, do not laugh so! I never heard a curse more
terrible than that laugh! But, viewing the matter in the worst light,
if they are determined to mistake your character here, with us you
will not be misunderstood. No, we cannot, we will not, misunderstand
you, Tellheim. And if our government has the least sentiment of
honour, I know what it must do. But I am foolish; what would that
matter? Imagine, Tellheim, that you have lost the two thousand
pistoles on some gay evening. The king was an unfortunate card for
you: the queen
(pointing to herself)
will be so much the more favourable. Providence, believe me, always
indemnifies a man of honou