WIFE. Pray, husband, do not commit so base an action. You know nothing is
more sacred than what is left to one's care and trust.
MERCHANT. But I am certain All Cogia will never return.
WIFE. And I have a strong feeling that he will. What will he think of your
honor if he finds the jar has been opened?
MERCHANT. Surely a jar of olives is not to be guarded so carefully, year
after year.
WIFE. That is Ali Cogia's affair, not ours. Besides, the olives can't be
good after all this time.
MERCHANT (_taking a plate_). I mean to have a taste of them, at least.
WIFE (_indignantly_). You are betraying the trust your friend placed in
you! I will not remain to witness it.
[_She leaves the room. The Merchant crosses and takes cover from jar._]
MERCHANT (_looking in jar_). My wife was right--the olives are covered with
mould, but those at the bottom may still be good.
[_He turns the jar up and shakes out the olives. Several gold pieces fall
out._]
MERCHANT. What is this? Gold pieces! As I live! Gold! gold!
[_He shakes the jar again; a shower of gold pieces fall._]
MERCHANT (_dropping the jar in astonishment_). A thousand pieces at least!
The top of the jar only was laid with olives!
(_He puts the gold into his pockets.
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