“I am incapable of taking such an advantage of a friend; but as a general rule your maxim is a right one; I like prudence.  I will tell you the whole affair.  You are aware that Madame Tripolo has been left a widow, and that M. Dandolo is courting her assiduously, after having done the same for fourteen years during the life of the husband.  The lady, who is still young, beautiful and lovely, and also is very respectable, wishes to become his wife.  It is to me that she has confided her wishes, and as I saw nothing that was not praiseworthy, either in a temporal or in a spiritual point of view, in that union, for after all we are all men, I took the affair in hand with real pleasure.  I fancied even that M. Dandolo felt some inclination for that marriage when he told me that he would give me his decision this morning.  I am not astonished at his having asked your advice in such an important affair, for a prudent man is right in asking the opinion of a wise friend before taking a decisive step; but I must tell you candidly that I am astonished at your disapproval of such a marriage.  Pray excuse me if, in order to improve by the information, I ask why your opinion is exactly the reverse of mine.”

Delighted at having discovered the whole affair, at having arrived in time to prevent my friend who was goodness itself contracting an absurd marriage, I answered the hypocrite that I loved M. Dandolo, that I knew his temperament, and that I was certain that a marriage with a woman like Madame Tripolo would shorten his life.

“That being my opinion,” I added, “you must admit that as a true friend I was right in advising him against your proposal.  Do you recollect having told me that you never married for the very same reason?  Do you recollect your strong arguments in favour of celibacy while we were at Parma?  Consider also, I beg, that every man has a certain small stock of selfishness, and that I may be allowed to have mine when I think that if M. Dandolo took a wife the influence of that wife would of course have some weight, and that the more she gained in influence over him the more I should lose.  So you see it would not be natural for me to advise him to take a step which would ultimately prove very detrimental to my interests.  If you can prove that my reasons are either trifling or sophistical, speak openly:  I will tell M. Dandolo that my mind has changed; Madame Tripolo will become his wife when we return to Venice.  But let me warn you that thorough conviction can alone move me.”

“I do not believe myself clever enough to convince you.  I shall write to Madame Tripolo that she must apply to you.”

“Do not write anything of the sort to that lady, or she will think that you are laughing at her.  Do you suppose her foolish enough to expect that I will give way to her wishes?  She knows that I do not like her.”

“How can she possibly know that?”

“She must have remarked that I have never cared to accompany M. Dandolo to her house.  Learn from me once for all, that as long as I live with my three friends they shall have no wife but me.  You may get married as soon as you please; I promise not to throw any obstacle in your way; but if you wish to remain on friendly terms with me give up all idea of leading my three friends astray.”