LADY. Now I must go. Good-bye. (She goes out.)

STRANGER (absent-mindedly). Good-bye. (He remains on the seat. He
takes off his hat and wipes his forehead. Then he draws on the
ground with his stick. A BEGGAR enters. He has a strange look and
is collecting objects from the gutter.) White are you picking up,
beggar?

BEGGAR. Why call me that? I'm no beggar. Have I asked you for
anything?

STRANGER. I beg your pardon. It's so hard to judge men from
appearances.

BEGGAR. That's true. For instance, can you guess who I am?

STRANGER. I don't intend to try. It doesn't interest me.

BEGGAR. No one can know that in advance. Interest commonly comes
afterwards--when it's too late. Virtus post nummos!

STRANGER. What? Do beggars know Latin?

BEGGAR. You see, you're interested already. Omne tulit punctum qui
miscuit utile dulci. I have always succeeded in everything I've
undertaken, because I've never attempted anything. I should like to
call myself Polycrates, who found the gold ring in the fish's
stomach. Life has given me all I asked of it. But I never asked
anything; I grew tired of success and threw the ring away. Yet, now