PEHR. Wait a bit--I'm not saying that it is so!

FIRST FRIEND. [Seats himself.] So now you are in clover, as they
say. It is pleasant to contemplate that fate can be so kindly, and
it must ever rejoice a sensitive soul to see that some one is
favored by fickle fortune. Not all--more's the pity!--can praise
fickle fortune.

PEHR. Indeed! Have you any grievances?

FIRST FRIEND. I?

PEHR. Yes--for I don't want to hear any hard-luck stories now, when
I'm eating. Won't you be good enough to favor me by trying a
hazel-grouse?

FIRST FRIEND. If you speak of favors, my friend!

PEHR. Then you mustn't say "my friend"; you must call me by name.

FIRST FRIEND. Christopher! You ask a service of poor me--can I then
deny you! [He begins to eat, his appetite increases during
following repartee. Pehr regards him with open-eyed wonder.]

PEHR. One should never deny another anything?

FIRST FRIEND. Well said! One should never deny oneself anything--
one another, I mean.