The Bonds of Interest/Act 1

Leander. This must be a very great city, Crispin. Its riches and its power appear in everything.

Crispin. Yes, there are two cities. Pray God that we have chanced upon the better one!

Leander. Two cities do you say, Crispin? Ah! Now I understand—an old city and a new city, one on either side of the river.

Crispin. What has the river to do with it, or newness or age? I say two cities just as there are in every city in the world; one for people who arrive with money and the other for persons who arrive like us.

Leander. We are lucky to have arrived at all without falling into the hands of Justice. I should be heartily glad to stop here awhile and rest myself, for I am tired of this running about the world so continually.

Crispin. Not I! No, it is the natural condition of the free-born subjects of the Kingdom of Roguery, of whom am I, not to remain seated long in any one place, unless it be through compulsion, as to say in the galleys, where, believe me, they are very hard seats. But now since we have happened upon this city, and to all appearances it is a well fortified and provisioned one, let us like prudent captains map out our plan of battle beforehand, if we are to conquer it with any advantage to ourselves.

​Leander. A pretty army we shall make to besiege it.

Crispin. We are men and we have to do with men.

Leander. All our wealth is on our backs. You were not willing to take off these clothes and sell them, when by doing so we could easily have obtained money.

Crispin. I would sooner take off my skin than my good clothes. As the world goes nothing is so important as appearances, and the clothes, as you must admit, are the first things to appear.

Leander. What are we going to do, Crispin? Hunger and fatigue have been too much for me. I am overcome; I cannot talk.

Crispin. There is nothing for us to do but to take advantage of our talents and our effrontery, for without effrontery talents are of no use. The best thing, as it seems to me, will be for you to talk as little as possible, but be very impressive when you do, and put on the airs of a gentleman of quality. From time to time then I will permit you to strike me across the back. When anybody asks you a question, reply mysteriously and if you open your mouth upon your own account, be sure that it is with dignity, as if you were pronouncing sentence. You are young; you have a fine presence. Until now you have known only how to dissipate your resources; this is the time for you to begin to profit by them. Put yourself in my hands. There is nothing so useful to a man as to have some one always at his heels to point out his merits, for modesty in one's self is imbecility, while self-praise is madness, and so between the two we come into disfavor with the world. Men are like merchandise; they are worth more or less according to the skill of the salesman who markets them. I tell you, though you were but muddy glass, I will so contrive that in my hands you shall pass for pure diamond. And now let us knock at ​the door of this inn, for surely it is the proper thing to have lodgings on the main square.

Leander. You say at this inn? But how are we going to pay?

Crispin. If we are to be stopped by a little thing like that then we had better search out an asylum or an almshouse or else beg on the streets, if so be that you incline to virtue. Or if to force, then back to the highway and cut the throat of the first passer-by. If we are to live upon our means, strictly speaking, we have no other means to live.

Leander. I have letters of introduction to persons of importance in this city, who will be able to lend us aid.

Crispin. Then tear those letters up; never think of such baseness again! Introduce yourself to no man when you are in need. Those would be pretty letters of credit indeed! To-day you will be received with the greatest courtesy; they will tell you that their houses and their persons are to be considered as yours. The next time you call, the servant will tell you that his master is not at home. No, he is not expected soon.… and at the next visit nobody will trouble so much as to open the door. This is a world of giving and taking, a shop, a mart, a place of exchange, and before you ask you have to offer.

Leander. But what can I offer when I have nothing?

Crispin. How low an opinion you must have of yourself! Is a man in himself, then, worth nothing? A man may be a soldier, and by his valor win great victories. He may be a husband or a lover, and with love's sweet, oblivious medicine, restore some noble dame to health, or some damsel of high degree, who has been pining away through melancholy. He may be the servant of some mighty and powerful lord, who becomes attached to him and raises him up through his favor, and he may he so many other things besides that I have not ​the breath even to begin to run them over. When one wants to climb, why any stair will do.

Leander. But if I have not even that stair?

Crispin. Then accept my shoulders, and I will lift you up. I offer you the top.

Leander. And if we both fall down upon the ground?

Crispin. God grant that it may be soft! [Knocking at the inn-door] Hello! Ho, within there! Hello, I say, in the inn! Devil of an innkeeper! Does no one answer? What sort of a tavern is this?

Leander. Why are you making all this noise when as yet you have scarcely begun to call?

Crispin. Because it is monstrous that they should make us wait like this! [Calling again more loudly] Hello within! Who's there, I say? Hello in the house! Hello, you thousand devils!

Innkeeper. [Within] Who's there? What knocking and what shouting at my door! Is this the way to stand and wait? Out, I say!

Crispin. It is too much! And now he will tell us that this dilapidated old tavern is a fit lodging for a gentleman.

Innkeeper. Softly, sirs, softly; for this is not a tavern but an inn, and great gentlemen have been lodged in this house.

Crispin. I would like to have seen those same great gentlemen—gentle, a little more or less. What? It is easy enough to see by these rascals, that they are not accustomed to waiting on persons of quality. They stand there like blockheads without running to do our service.

Innkeeper. My life! But you are impertinent!

​Leander. My servant is a little forward, perhaps. You will find him somewhat hasty in his temper. However, your inn will be good enough for the brief time that we shall be able to remain in it. Prepare an apartment for me and another for my servant, and let us spare these idle words.

Innkeeper. I beg your pardon, sir. If you had only spoken before.… I don't know how it is, but somehow gentlemen are always so much more polite than their servants.

Crispin. The fact is my master is so good-natured that he will put up with anything. But I know what is proper for his service, and I have no mind to wink at villainy. Lead us to our apartments.

Innkeeper. But where is your luggage?

Crispin. Do you suppose that we are carrying our luggage with us on our backs, like a soldier's knapsack, or trundling it like students' bundles, in our hands? Know that my master has eight carts coming after him, which will arrive if he stays here long enough, and at that he will only remain for the time which is absolutely necessary to conclude the secret mission with which he has been intrusted in this city.

Leander. Will you be silent and hold your tongue? What secret is it possible to keep with you? If I am discovered through your impudence, through your misguided talk.… [He threatens and strikes Crispin with his sword.

Crispin. Help!—He is killing me.! [Running.

Innkeeper. [Interposing between Leander and Crispin] Hold, sir!

Leander. Let me chastise him! The most intolerable of vices is this desire to talk.

Innkeeper. Do not beat him, sir!

​Leander. Let me at him! Let me at him! Will the slave never learn?

Crispin. [Crying out] Ay! Ay! Ay!

Innkeeper. Ay, say I! For I got all the blows!

Leander. [To Crispin] Now you see what you have done. This poor man has received all the blows. Down! Down! Beg his pardon!

Innkeeper. It will not be necessary, sir. I pardon him willingly. [To the servants] What are you doing standing there? Prepare the rooms in which the Emperor of Mantua is accustomed to reside when he is stopping in this house, and let dinner be made ready for these gentlemen.

Crispin. Perhaps it would be as well if I saw to that myself, otherwise they may delay and spoil everything, and commit a thousand blunders for which I shall be held responsible, for my master, as you see, is not a man to submit to insult. I am with you, sirrahs—and remember who it is you serve, for the greatest good fortune or the direst calamity in the world enters at this moment behind you through these doors.

Innkeeper. [To Leander] Will you be good enough to let me have your name, where you come from, and the business which brings you to this city?

Leander. [Seeing Crispin re-enter from the Inn] My servant will let you have them. Learn not to bother me with foolish questions. [He goes into the Inn.

Crispin. What have you done now? You have not dared to question, my master? If you want to keep him so much ​as another hour in your house, never speak to him again. No! Not one word!

Innkeeper. But the laws are very strict. It is absolutely necessary that the questions should be answered. The law in this city——

Crispin. Never mention the law to my master! Silence! Silence! And for shame! You do not know whom you have in your house; no, and if you did, you would not be wasting your time on these impertinences.

Innkeeper. But am I not to be told at least——

Crispin. Bolt of Heaven! Silence! Or I will call my master, and he will tell you whatever he sees fit—and then you will not understand. Take care! Look to it that he wants for nothing! Wait on him with every one of your five senses, or you will have good reason to regret it! Have you no knowledge of men? Can't you read character? Don't you see who my master is? What? How is that? What do you say? No reply?.… Come! Come!.… In!.…

Harlequin. As we return from the fields which surround this fair city—and beyond a doubt they are the best part of it—it seems that without intending it we have happened upon this Inn. What a creature of habit is man! And surely it is a vile habit, this being obliged to eat every day.

Captain. The sweet music of your verses had quite deprived me of all thought. Delightful privilege of the poet!

Harlequin. Which does not prevent him from being equally lacking upon his own part. The poet wants everything. I approach this Inn with fear. Will they consent to trust us to-day? If not, we must rely upon your sword.

​Captain. My sword? The soldier's sword, like the poet's lyre, is little valued in this city of merchants and traders. We have fallen upon evil days.

Harlequin. We have. Sublime poesy, which sings of great and glorious exploits, is no more. It is equally profitless to offer your genius to the great to praise or to lampoon them. Flattery and satire are both alike to them. They neither thank you for the one nor fear the other, nor do they read them. Aretino himself would have starved to death in these days.

Captain. But tell me, how is it with us? What is the position of the soldier? Because we were defeated in the late wars—more through these base traffickers who govern us and send us to defend their interests without enthusiasm and without arms, than through any powder of the enemy, as if a man could fight with his whole heart for what he did not love—defeated by these traffickers who did not contribute so much as a single soldier to our ranks or lend one single penny to the cause but upon good interest and yet better security; who, as soon as they scented danger and saw their pockets in jeopardy, threatened to make common cause with the enemy—now they blame us, they abuse us and despise us, and seek to economize out of our martial misery, which is the little pay that they give us, and would dismiss us if they dared, if they were not afraid that some day all those whom they have oppressed by their tyranny and their greed would rise up and turn against them. And woe to them when they do, if we remember that day on which side lie duty and justice!

Harlequin. When that day comes you will find us at your side.

Captain. Poets cannot be depended upon for anything. Your spirits are like the opal, which looks different in every ​light. You are in an ecstasy to-day over what is about to be born, and to-morrow over what is in the last stages of dissolution. You have a special weakness for falling in love with ruins, which to my mind is a melancholy thing. And since as a rule you sit up all night, you more often see the sun set than the day break; you know more about going down than you do of rising.

Harlequin. That cannot truthfully be said of me. I have often seen the sun rise when I had no place to lay my head. Besides, how can you expect a man to hail the day as blithely as the lark when it always breaks so unfortunately for him?—What say you? Shall we try our fate?

Captain. It cannot be avoided. Be seated, and let us await what our good host has in store.

Harlequin. [Calling into the Inn] Hello, there! Ho! Who serves to-day?

Innkeeper. Ah, gentlemen! Is it you? I am sorry, but there is no entertainment at the Inn to-day.

Captain. And for what reason, if it is proper to ask the question?

Innkeeper. A proper question for you to ask. Do you suppose that I trust nobody for what is consumed in this house?

Captain. Ah! Is that the reason? And are we not persons of credit, who are to be trusted?

Innkeeper. No; not by me. And as I never expect to collect anything, you have had all that courtesy requires out of me already. This being the case, you will be so kind as to remove yourselves from my door.

Harlequin. Do you imply that there is nothing to be counted between us but money? Are all the praises that we have lavished upon your house in all parts of the coun​try to go for nothing? I have even composed a sonnet in your honor, in which I celebrate the virtues of your stewed partridges and hare pie! And as for my friend, the Captain, you may rest assured that he alone would uphold the reputation of your hostelry against an army. Is that a feat which is worth nothing? Is there nothing but clinking of coins in your ears?

Innkeeper. I am not in a jesting mood; it does not suit my humor. I want none of your sonnets, nor the Captain's sword either, which might better be employed in other business.

Captain. Name of Mars! You are right. Better employed upon an impudent rascal's back, flaying off his hide! [Threatening him, and striking him with his sword.

Innkeeper. [Crying out] What? How is this? You strike me? Help! Justice!

Harlequin. [Restraining the Captain] Don't run your head into a noose on account of such a worthless scamp.

Captain. I shall kill him. [Striking him.

Innkeeper. Help! Justice!

Servants. They are killing our master!

Innkeeper. Save me!

Captain. Not one of them shall remain alive!

Innkeeper. Will no one come?

Leander. What is this brawl?

Crispin. In the presence of my master? Before the house where he resides? Is there no rest possible, nor quiet? Hold! Or I shall summon Justice. Order! Quiet!

Innkeeper. This will be the ruin of me! With such a dignitary stopping in my house!——

Harlequin. Who is he?

​Innkeeper. Never dare to ask me his name!

Captain. Your pardon, sir, if we have disturbed your rest, but this rascally villain——

Innkeeper. It wasn't my fault, my lord. These unblushing scoundrels——

Captain. What? I? Unblushing—I? I can bear no more!

Crispin. Hold, sir Captain, for one is here who is able to redress your wrongs, if so be you have had them of this man.

Innkeeper. Consider, sir, that for more than a month these fellows have eaten at my expense without the payment of one penny—without so much as the thought of payment; and now because I refuse to serve them to-day, they turn upon me.

Harlequin. I do not turn because I am accustomed to face that which is unpleasant.

Captain. Is it reasonable that a soldier should not be given credit?

Harlequin. Is it reasonable that a sonnet should be allowed to pass for nothing, although it is written with the best of flourishes in praise of his stewed partridges and hare pies? And all this upon credit on my part, for I have never tasted one of them, but only his eternal mutton and potatoes.

Crispin. These two noble gentlemen are right. It is infamous that a poet and a soldier should be denied in this manner.

Harlequin. Ah, sir! You have a great soul!

Crispin. No, I have not—but my master, who is here present. Being a grand gentleman, there is nothing which appeals to him so much in the world as a poet or a soldier.

Leander. To be sure. I agree with you.

Crispin. You need have no doubt but that while he re​mains in this city you will be treated with the consideration you deserve. You shall want for nothing. Whatever expense you may be at in this Inn, is to be placed upon his account.

Leander. To be sure. I agree with you.

Crispin. And let the landlord look to it that you get your deserts!

Innkeeper. Sir!….

Crispin. And don't be so stingy with those partridges and hairy pies. It is not proper that a poet like Signor Harlequin should be obliged to draw upon his imagination in his descriptions of such material things.

Harlequin. What? Do you know my name?

Crispin. No, I do not; but my master, being such a great gentleman, knows all the poets who exist or who ever did exist in the world, provided always that they were worthy of the name.

Leander. To be sure. I agree with you.

Crispin. And none of them is more famous than you. Signor Harlequin. Whenever I consider that you have not been treated here with the respect which is your due——

Innkeeper. Your pardon, sir. They shall be made welcome, as you desire. It is sufficient that you should be their security.

Captain. Sir, if I can be of service to you in any way.…

Crispin. What? Is it a small service to be permitted to know you? O glorious Captain, worthy only to be sung by this immortal poet!

Harlequin. Sir!

Captain. Sir!

Harlequin. So my verses are known to you?

Crispin. How? Known? And if known would it ever ​be possible to forget them? Is not that wonderful sonnet yours, which begins:

Harlequin. What?

Crispin. What?

It does not say what.

Harlequin. Nonsense! No, that is not my sonnet.

Crispin. Then it is worthy of being yours. And you, Captain! Who is not familiar with your marvellous exploits? Was it not you who, alone, with twenty men, assaulted the Castle of the Red Rock in the famous battle of the Black Field?

Captain. You know, then?

Crispin. How?.… Do I know? Oh! Many a time, transported, I have listened to my master recount the story of your prowess! Twenty men, twenty, and you in front of them, and in front of you the castle. Boom! Boom! Boom! from the castle, shots and bombards, darts and flaming squibs and boiling oil! And the twenty men all standing there like one man, and you in front of them! And from above: Boom! Boom! Boom! And the roll of the drums: Rum-a-tum-tum! And the blare of the trumpets: Tara! Tara-ra! And you all the while there alone with your sword: Swish! Swish! Swish! A blow here, a blow there. Or without your sword.… Above, below.… A head, an arm.…

​Servants. Ay! Ay! Oh! Oh!

Innkeeper. Hold! Hold! Restrain yourself! You don't know what you are doing. You are all excited.… It is as if the battle were really taking place.…

Crispin. How? I am excited? Know that I always feel in my breast the animus belli, the thirst for war!

Captain. It seems almost as if you must have been there.

Crispin. To hear my master describe it is the same as being there. No, it is preferable to it. And is such a soldier, the hero of the Red Rocks in the Black Fields, to be insulted thus? Ah! How fortunate it is that my master was present, and that important business had brought him to this city, for he will see to it that you are accorded the consideration you deserve. So sublime a poet, so great a captain!… [To the servants] Quick! What are you doing there? Bring the best food that you have in the house and set it before these gentlemen. And first of all get a bottle of good wine; it will be a rare pleasure to my master to drink with them. He will esteem himself indeed fortunate. Don't stand there and stare! Quick! Bestir yourselves!

Innkeeper. Run, run! I go.… We are getting something out of this after all.

Harlequin. Ah, sir! How can we ever repay you?

Captain. How? We certainly never shall.…

Crispin. Let nobody speak of payment before my master. The very thought gives offense. Be seated, be seated. My master, who has wined and dined so many princes, so many noblemen at his table, will deem this an even greater pleasure.

Leander. To be sure. I agree with you.

Crispin. My master is not a man of many words; but, as ​you see, the few that he does speak, are, as it were, fraught with wisdom.

Harlequin. His grandeur appears in everything.

Captain. You have no idea what a comfort it is to our drooping spirits to find a noble gentleman like you who condescends to treat us with consideration.

Crispin. Why, this is nothing to what he will condescend to do! I know that my master will never rest satisfied to stop at such a trifle. He will elevate you to his own level, and then hold you up beside him on the same exalted plane. He is just that kind of a man.

Leander. [To Crispin] Don't let your tongue run away with you, Crispin.

Crispin. My master is averse to foolish talk; but you will soon know him by his deeds.

Innkeeper. Here is the wine—and the dinner.

Crispin. Drink, drink and eat! See that they want for nothing; my master is agreeable. He will be responsible. His responsibility is fortunately not in question. If you would like anything you don't see, don't hesitate to ask for it. My master will order it. And let the landlord look to it that it is brought promptly, for verily at this business, he is the sorriest kind of a knave.

Innkeeper. To be sure.… I don't agree with you.

Crispin. Not another word! You insult my master.

Captain. Your very good health!

Leander. Your good healths, gentlemen! To the health of the greatest poet and the best soldier in the world!

Harlequin. To the health of the noblest gentleman!

Captain. The most liberal and the most generous!

Crispin. In the world! Excuse me, but I must drink ​too, though it may seem presumptuous. But on a day like this, this day of days, which has brought together the sublimest poet, the bravest captain, the noblest gentleman, and the most faithful servant in the universe.… [They drink] Now you will permit my master to retire. The important business which brings him to the city admits of no further delay.

Leander. To be sure.

Crispin. You will not fail to return every day and present your respects to him?

Harlequin. Every hour! And I am going to bring with me all the poets and all the musicians of my acquaintance, to serenade him with music and songs.

Captain. I shall bring my whole company with me with torches and banners.

Leander. You will offend my modesty.

Crispin. And now eat, drink! Mind you, sirrahs! About it! Quick! Serve these gentlemen. [To the Captain] A word in your ear. Are you out of money?

Captain. What shall I say?

Crispin. Say no more. [To the Innkeeper] Eh! This way! Let these gentlemen have forty or fifty crowns on my master's account, as a present from him. Omit nothing! See that they are satisfied.

Innkeeper. Don't worry, sir. Forty or fifty, did you say?

Crispin. While you are about it, better make it sixty. Your health, gentlemen!

Captain. Long life to the noblest gentleman in the world!

Harlequin. Long life!

Crispin. Shout long life, too, you uncivil people.

Innkeeper and Servants. Long life! Long life!

Crispin. Long life to the sublimest poet and the best soldier in the world!

​All. Long life!

Leander. [To Crispin] Are you mad, Crispin? What are you doing? How are we ever going to get out of this?

Crispin. The same way that we got in. You see now poesy and arms are ours. On! We shall achieve the conquest of the world!