TRANTO. Mrs. Culver can't stop you from refusing it?

CULVER. Certainly not. It concerns me alone.

TRANTO. Well, then, where is the difficulty? A rumpus--I think you
said. What of that? My dear Mr. Culver, believe me, I have seen far more
of marriage than you have. You're only a married man. I'm a bachelor,
and I've assisted at scores of married lives. A rumpus is nothing. It
passes--and leaves the victor more firmly established than ever before.

CULVER (_rising_). Don't talk to me of rumpuses. I know all about
rumpuses. This one is an arch-rumpus. This one is like no other rumpus
that ever was. It's something new in my vast experience. I shall win. I
have won. But at what cost? (_With effect_.) The cost may be that I
shall never kiss the enemy again. The whole domestic future is in grave
jeopardy.

TRANTO. Seriously?

CULVER. Seriously.

TRANTO. Then you musn't win.

CULVER. But what about my public duty? What about my principles? I can't
sacrifice my principles.

TRANTO. Why not?

CULVER. I never have.