The Bonds of Interest/Act 3

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Crispin. Enter, gentlemen, and be seated. Will you take something? Let me give orders to have it brought. Hello there! Ho!

Captain. No! By no means! We can accept nothing.

Harlequin. We came merely to offer our services to your master after what we have just heard.

Crispin. Incredible treachery, which, believe me, shall not be suffered to remain unpunished! I promise you if Signor Polichinelle ever puts himself within the reach of my hands——

Harlequin. Ah! Now you see what an advantage is possessed by us poets! I have him always within the reach of my verses. Oh! What a terrible satire I am thinking of writing against him! The cutthroat! Old reprobate!

Captain. But you say your master was not so much as even wounded?

Crispin. It might have killed him just the same. Imagine! Set upon by a dozen ruffians absolutely without warning.… Thanks, though, to his bravery, to his skill, to my cries.…

Harlequin. Do you say that it happened at night as your master was talking to Silvia over the wall of her garden?

Crispin. Naturally, my master had already been advised of what might happen. But you know what sort of man he is. He is not a person to be deterred by anything.

Captain. He ought to have notified us, however.

Harlequin. He ought, certainly, to have notified the ​Captain. He would have been delighted to have lent his aid.

Crispin. You know what my master is. He is a host in himself.

Captain. But you say that he caught one of the ruffians by the nape of the neck, and the rascal confessed that it had all been planned and arranged by Signor Polichinelle beforehand so as to rid himself of your master?

Crispin. Who else could have had any interest in it? His daughter is in love with my master; her father wants to marry her to suit himself. My master is opposing his plans, and Signor Polichinelle has known all his life how to get rid of disturbances. Didn't he become a widower twice in a very short time? Hasn't he inherited all that his relatives had, irrespective of age, whether they were older or younger than he? Everybody knows it; nobody will say that I do him injustice. Ah! the riches of Signor Polichinelle are an affront to our intelligence, a discouragement to honest labor. A man like Signor Polichinelle could remain rich only among a base and degenerate people.

Harlequin. I agree with you. I intend to say all this in my satire—of course, without mentioning names. Poetry does not admit of such license.

Crispin. Much good, then, your satire will do!

Captain. Leave him to me! Leave him to me! I promise you if he once puts himself within the reach of my sword—ah! But I am confident that he never will.

Crispin. My master would never consent to have an insult offered to Signor Polichinelle. After all, he is Silvia's father. The point is to let people in the city understand that an attempt has been made to assassinate my master. Is that old fox to be allowed to stifle the honest affection, the generous passion of his daughter? It is impossible.

​Harlequin. It is impossible. Love will find a way.

Crispin. If my master had been some impecunious beggar.… Tell me, isn't Signor Polichinelle the one who ought to be congratulated that my master has condescended to fall in love with his daughter, and is willing to accept him for his father-in-law?—my master, who has rejected the advances of so many damsels of high degree; my master, for whom over four princesses have committed I know not how many absurdities! But who is here? [Looking toward the right] Ah, Columbine! Come in, my beautiful Columbine! Do not be afraid. [Columbine enters from the right] We are all your friends, and our mutual friendship will protect you from our mutual admiration.

Columbine. Doña Sirena has sent me for news of your master. It was scarcely day when Silvia came to our house and confided everything that had happened to my mistress. She says that she will never return to her father, nor leave my mistress, unless it is to become the bride of Signor Leander.

Crispin. Does she say that? O, noble girl! O, constant, true-hearted lover!

Harlequin. What an epithalamium I shall write for their wedding!

Columbine. Silvia is positive that Leander is wounded. She heard the clash of swords beneath the balcony, your cries for help; then she fell senseless and they found her in a swoon at daybreak. Tell me how Signor Leander is, for she is beside herself with anxiety to hear, and my lady also is much distressed.

Crispin. Tell her that my master escaped with his life only through the unutterable power of love. Tell her that he is dying now only from the incurable wounds of love. Tell her that to the last.… [Seeing Leander approach] Ah, ​but here he is himself, and he will be able to give you later news than I.

Captain. [Embracing him] My dear, good friend!

Harlequin. [Embracing him] My friend and master!

Columbine. Ah, Signor Leander, what happiness! You are safe!

Leander. What? How did you know?

Crispin. Nothing else is talked about in the city. People gather in groups in the squares murmuring vengeance and venting imprecations upon Signor Polichinelle.

Leander. What is this?

Captain. He had better not dare to attempt your life a second time.

Harlequin. He had better not dare to attempt to arrest the true course of your love.

Columbine. It would be useless. Silvia is in my mistress's house and she swears that she will leave it only to become your bride.

Leander. Silvia in your house? But her father.…

Columbine. Signor Polichinelle has all he can do to look after himself.

Captain. What? I knew that man would be up to something. Oh, of what base uses money is capable!

Harlequin. It is capable of everything but love; of that it is incapable.

Columbine. He tried to have you assassinated dishonorably in the dark.

Crispin. By twelve cutthroats. Twelve! I counted them.

Leander. I made out only three or four.

Crispin. My master will end by telling you that there was no danger so as not to receive credit for his coolness and ​his bravery—but I saw it. There were twelve; twelve armed to the teeth, prepared to do murder. It seemed impossible that he could escape with his life.

Columbine. I must run and calm Silvia and my mistress.

Crispin. Listen, Columbine. As to Silvia—wouldn't it be as well, perhaps, not to calm her?

Columbine. Leave that to my mistress. Silvia is convinced that your master is dead, and although Doña Sirena is making the most unheard-of efforts to console her, it will not be long before she is here in spite of the consequences.

Crispin. I ought to have known of what your mistress was capable.

Captain. We must be going, too; there is nothing here that we can do. The point is to arouse the indignation of the people against Signor Polichinelle.

Harlequin. We shall stone his house; we shall raise the whole city. Until to-day not a single man has dared to lift his hand against him; to-day we will all dare to do it together. There is an uplift, a moral earnestness in a crowd.

Columbine. He will come creeping on his knees and beg you to accept his daughter as your wife.

Crispin. Yes, yes, he will indeed! Run, friends, run! The life of my master is not secure. A man who has once made up his mind to assassinate him is not likely to be turned aside for a trifle.

Captain. Have no fear, my good friend.

Harlequin. My friend and master!

Columbine. Signor Leander!

Leander. Thanks to you all, my friends. My loyal friends!

Leander. What is this, Crispin? What are you trying to do? Where do you expect to come out with all your ​lies? Do you know what, I believe? You paid those fellows yourself; it was your idea. I should have got off badly enough among so many if they had been in earnest.

Crispin. Have you the temerity to reproach me when I precipitate the fulfilment of your desires so skilfully?

Leander. No, Crispin, no. You know you do not. I love Silvia. I am resolved: I shall never win her love through deception, come what may.

Crispin. You know very well, then, what will come. Do you call it love to sit down and resign yourself to losing what you love for the sake of these quibbles of conscience? Silvia herself would not thank you for it.

Leander. What do you mean? If she once learns who I am.…

Crispin. By the time she finds out you will no longer be the one that you are. You will be her husband then, her beloved husband, who is everything that is noble and faithful and true, and whatever else you like besides, or that her heart desires. Once you are master of her heart—and her fortune—will you not be a complete and perfect gentleman? You will not be like Signor Polichinelle, who, with all his wealth which permits him so many luxuries, has not yet been able to permit himself the luxury of being honest. Deceit is natural to him, but with you it was only necessity. If you had not had me at your side you would have starved to death before this out of pure conscientiousness. Ah! do you suppose that if I had thought for one moment that you were a man of another sort, I would have been satisfied to devote your abilities to love? No, I would have put you into politics, and not merely the fortune of Signor Polichinelle would have been ours, but a chastened and admiring world. But you are not ambitious. You will be satisfied to be happy.

Leander. But can't you see that no good, no happiness, ​can come out of this? If I could lie so as to make her love me and in that way become rich, then it could only be because I did not love. And if I did not love, then how could I be happy? And if I love, how can I lie?

Crispin. Don't lie, then. Love, love passionately, entirely, with your whole heart and soul. Put your love before everything else upon earth. Guard and protect it. A lover does not lie when he keeps to himself what he thinks might prejudice the blind affection of his mistress.

Leander. These are subtleties, Crispin.

Crispin. Which you would have known all about before if you had really been in love. Love is all subtleties and the greatest subtlety of them all is not that lovers deceive others—it is that they can so easily deceive themselves.

Leander. I do not deceive myself, Crispin. I am not one of those men who, when they have sold their conscience, think that they have also been able to dispose of their intelligence as well.

Crispin. That is the reason I said you would never make a good politician. You are right. For the intelligence is the conscience of truth, and the man who parts with that among the lies of this life is as one who has lost himself. He is without compass or sail. He will never be able to find himself again, nor know himself, but become in all his being just one more living lie.

Leander. Where did you learn all these things, Crispin?

Crispin. I meditated a little while in the galleys, where this conscience of my intelligence accused me of having been more of a fool than a knave. If I had had more knavery and less stupidity, instead of rowing I might have commanded the ship. So I swore never again to return to the oar. You can see now what I am willing to do for your sake since I am on the point of breaking my oath.

​Leander. In what way?

Crispin. Our situation has become desperate. We have exhausted our credit, and our dupes begin to demand something more substantial than talk: the innkeeper who entertained us so long with such munificence, expecting that you would receive your remittances; Signor Pantaloon, who, hearing of the credit extended by the innkeeper, advanced us whatever was necessary to install us sumptuously in this house; tradesmen of every description, who did not hesitate to provide us with every luxury, dazzled by such display; Doña Sirena herself, who has lent us her invaluable good offices in your love affair—they have all only asked what was reasonable; it would be unjust to expect more of them or to complain of such delightful people. The name of this fair city shall ever be engraven upon my heart in letters of gold. From this hour I claim it as my adopted mother! But more than this, have you forgotten that they have been searching for us in other parts and following on our heels? Can it be that all those glorious exploits of Mantua and Florence have been forgotten? Don't you recall that famous lawsuit in Bologna? Three thousand two hundred pages of testimony already admitted against us before we withdrew in alarm at the sight of such prodigious expansive ability! Do you imagine that it has not continued to grow under the pen of that learned doctor and jurist, who has taken it under his wing? How many whereases and therefores must there now be therefore, whereas they are all there for no good? Do you still doubt? Do you still hesitate and reprove me because I give the battle to-day which is to decide our fate forever at a single blow?

Leander. Let us fly!

Crispin. No! Let the despairing fly! This day decides. We challenge fortune. I have given you love; give me life!

​Leander. But how can we save ourselves? What can I do? Tell me.

Crispin. Nothing yet. It will be enough to accept what others offer. We have intertwined ourselves with the interests of many, and the bonds of interest will prove our salvation.

Sirena. Have I your permission, Signor Leander?

Leander. Doña Sirena! What? You in my house?

Sirena. I am conscious of the risk I am running—the gossip of evil tongues. What? Doña Sirena in the house of a young and gallant gentleman?

Crispin. My master will know how to avoid all cause of scandal, if any indeed could attach to your name.

Sirena. Your master? I would not trust him. Men are so boastful! But it is idle to anticipate. What, sir, is this talk about an attempt to kill you last night? I have not heard another thing since I got up in the morning. And Silvia! The poor child! How she loves you! I would give a great deal to know what it was that you did to make her fall in love with you like that.

Crispin. My master feels that it was what you did. He owes it all to you.

Sirena. I should be the last one to deny that he owes me anything. I have always tried to speak well of him—a thing I had no right to do, not knowing him sufficiently. I have gone to great lengths in his service. Now if you are false to your promise.…

Crispin. You do not doubt my master? Have you not the papers signed in his own hand?

Sirena. The hand is a good one and so is the name. I don't bother about them. I know what it is to trust, and I know that Signor Leander will pay me what he owes. But ​to-day has been a bitter day for me, and if you could let me have to-day one-half of what you have promised, I would willingly forego the other half.

Crispin. To-day, do you say?

Sirena. A day of tribulation! And what makes it worse, it is twenty years ago to-day that my second husband died, who was my first—yes, my only love.

Crispin. May he rest in peace with all the honors of the first!

Sirena. The first was forced upon me by my father. I never loved him, but in spite of it he insisted upon being faithful to me.

Crispin. What knowledge you have of men. Doña Sirena!

Sirena. But let us leave these recollections, which are depressing, and turn to hope. Would you believe it? Silvia insisted upon coming with me.

Leander. Here? To this house?

Sirena. Where do you suppose it was that she insisted upon coming? What do you say to that? What would Signor Polichinelle say? With all the city roused against him, there would be nothing for him to do but to have you marry.

Leander. No, no! Don't let her come.…

Crispin. Hush! You know my master has a way of not saying what he means.

Sirena. I know. What would he give to see Silvia at his side, never to be separated from him more?

Crispin. What would he give? You don't know what he would give!

Sirena. That is the reason I ask.

Crispin. Ah, Doña Sirena! If my master becomes the husband of Silvia to-day, to-day he will pay you everything that he has promised you.

​Sirena. And if he does not?

Crispin. Then you lose everything. Suit yourself.

Leander. Silence, Crispin, silence! Enough! I cannot submit to have my love treated as a bargain. Go, Doña Sirena! Say to Silvia that she must return to her father's house, that under no circumstances is she ever to enter mine; that she must forget me forever. I shall fly and hide myself in the desert places of the earth, where no man shall see me, no, nor so much as know my name. My name? I wonder—have I a name?

Crispin. Will you be silent?

Sirena. What is the matter with him? What paroxysm is this? Return to your senses! Come to your proper mind! How? Renounce so glorious an enterprise for nothing? You are not the only person who is to be considered. Remember that there are others who have put their confidence in you. A lady of quality who has exposed herself for your sake is not to be betrayed with impunity. You will do no such thing. You will not be so foolish. You will marry Silvia or there will be one who will find a way to bring you to a reckoning for all your impostures. I am not so defenseless in the world as you may think, Signor Leander.

Crispin. Doña Sirena is right. But believe me, this fit of my master's—he is offended by your reproaches, your want of confidence.

Sirena. I don't want confidence in your master. And I might as well say it—I don't want confidence in Signor Polichinelle. He is not a man to be trifled with, either. After the outcry which you raised against him by your stratagem of last night——

Crispin. Stratagem, did you say?

Sirena. Bah! Everybody knows it. One of the rascals ​was a relative of mine, and among the others I had connections. Very well, sirs, very well! Signor Polichinelle has not been asleep. It is said in the city that he has given information as to who you are to Justice, and on what grounds you may be apprehended. It is said that a process has arrived to-day from Bologna——

Crispin. And a devil of a doctor with it? Three thousand nine hundred folios.…

Sirena. So it is said and on good authority. You see that there is no time to lose.

Crispin. Who is losing and who is wasting time but you? Return, return at once to your house! Say to Silvia——

Sirena. Silvia? Silvia is here. She came along with me and Columbine as one of the attendants in my train. She is waiting in the antechamber. I told her that you were wounded horribly.

Leander. Oh, my Silvia!

Sirena. She has reconciled herself to your death. She hopes for nothing else. She expects nothing else. She thinks nothing of what she risks in coming here to see you. Well? Are we friends?

Crispin. You are adorable! [To Leander] Quick! Lie down here. Stretch yourself out in this chair. Seem sick, suffer, faint—be downhearted. And remember, if I am not satisfied with the appearance, I will substitute the reality! [Threatening him and forcing him into a chair.

Leander. Yes, I am in your power! I see it, I know it! But Silvia shall never be! Yes, let me see her. Tell her to come in. I shall save her in spite of you, in spite of everything, in spite even of herself!

Crispin. You know my master has a way of not meaning what he says.

​Sirena. I never thought him such a fool. Come with me. [She goes out with Crispin.

Leander. Silvia! My Silvia!

Silvia. But aren't you wounded?

Leander. No, don't you see? It was a lie, another lie to bring you here. But don't be afraid. Your father will come soon; soon you will leave this house with him without having any cause to reproach me.… Ah! None but that I have disturbed the serenity of your soul with an illusion of love which will be to you in the future no more than the remembrance of a dark and evil dream!

Silvia. But Leander? Then your love was not real?

Leander. My love was, yes. That is why I could not deceive you. Leave this place at once—before any but those who brought you here discover that you came.

Silvia. What are you afraid of? Am I not safe in your house? I was not afraid to come. What harm can happen to me at your side?

Leander. You are right. None! My love will protect you even from your innocence.

Silvia. I can never go back to my father's house—not after the horrible thing which he did last night.

Leander. No, Silvia, do not blame your father. It was not his fault; it was another deception, another lie. Fly from me; forget this miserable adventurer, this nameless outcast, a fugitive from justice.…

Silvia. No, it isn't true. No! It is the conduct of my father which makes me unworthy of your love. That is what it is. I see it all now. I understand. Ay, for me!

Leander. Silvia! My Silvia! How cruel your sweet words are! How cruel this noble confidence of your heart, so innocent of evil and of life!

​Crispin. Master! Master! Signor Polichinelle is coming!

Silvia. My father!

Leander. It doesn't matter. I shall lead you to him with my own hand.

Crispin. But he is not coming alone. There is a great crowd with him; the officers of justice.…

Leander. What? Ah! If they should find you here? In my house! [To Crispin] I see it all now. You have told them. But you shall not succeed in your design!

Crispin. I? No. Certainly not! For this time this is earnest and nothing can save us now.

Leander. No, not us. Nor shall I try. But her.… Yes! Hide her, conceal her! We must secrete her here.

Silvia. But you?

Leander. Have no fear. Quick! They are on the stair. [He hides Silvia in a room at the rear, meanwhile saying to Crispin] See what these fellows want. On your life let no man set his foot within this room after I am gone!… The game is up! It is the end for me. [He runs to the window.

Crispin. [Holding him back] Master! Master! Hold! Control yourself. Come to your senses. Don't throw your life away!

Leander. I am not throwing my life away.… There is no escape.… I am saving her.…

Crispin. Master! Master! H'm! Not so bad after all. I thought he was going to dash himself to pieces on the ground. Instead he has climbed higher.… There is hope yet—he may yet learn to fly. It is his region, the clouds.… ​Now I to mine, the firm ground. And more need than ever that I should make certain that it is solid beneath my feet. [He seats himself complacently in an armchair.

Polichinelle. [Without, to those who are with him] Guard the doors! Let no man escape! No, nor woman either.… Nor dog nor cat!

Innkeeper. Where are they? Where are these bandits? These assassins?

Pantaloon. Justice! Justice! My money! My money!

Captain. But can this be possible, Crispin?

Harlequin. Is it possible that such a thing can be?

Pantaloon. Justice! Justice! My money! My money!

Innkeeper. Seize them! Put them in irons!

Pantaloon. Don't let them escape! Don't let them escape!

Crispin. What? How is this? Who dares to desecrate with impious clamor the house of a gentleman and a cavalier? Oh, you may congratulate yourselves that my master is not at home!

Pantaloon. Silence! Silence! For you are his accomplice and you will be held to answer to the same reckoning as he.

​Innkeeper. Accomplice, did you say? As guilty as his pretended master!—for he was the one who deceived me.

Captain. What is the meaning of this, Crispin?

Harlequin. Is there any truth in what these people say?

Polichinelle. What have you to say for yourself now, Crispin? You thought you were a clever rogue to cut up your capers with me. I tried to murder your master, did I? I am an old miser who is battening on his daughter's heart? All the city is stirred up against me, is it, heaping me with insults? Well, we shall see.

Pantaloon. Leave him to us, Signor Polichinelle, for this is our affair. After all, you have lost nothing. But I—all my wealth which I lent him without security. I am ruined for the rest of my life. What will become of me?

Innkeeper. What will become of me, tell me that, when I spent what I never had and even run into debt so that he might be served—as I thought—in a manner befitting his station? It was my destruction, my ruin.

Captain. We too were horribly deceived. What will be said of me when it is known that I have put my sword at the disposition of an adventurer?

Harlequin. And of me, when I have dedicated sonnet after sonnet to his praise, just as if he had been any ordinary gentleman?

Polichinelle. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Pantaloon. Yes, laugh, laugh, that is right. You have lost nothing.

Innkeeper. Nobody robbed you.

Pantaloon. To work! To work! Where is the other villain?

Innkeeper. Better see what there is in the house first.

Crispin. Slowly, slowly, gentlemen. If you advance one other step—— [Threatening them with his sword.

​Pantaloon. What? You threaten us? Again? Is such a thing to be endured? Justice! Justice!

Innkeeper. Yes, justice!

Doctor. Gentlemen, unless you listen to me we shall get nowhere. No man may take justice into his own hands, inasmuch as justice is not haste nor oppression nor vengeance nor act of malice. Summum jus, summum injuria; the more wrong, the more justice. Justice is all wisdom, and wisdom is all order, and order is all reason, and reason is all procedure, and procedure is all logic. Barbara, Celarent, Daríi, Ferio, Baralipton, deposit all your wrongs and all your disputations with me, for if they are to be of any validity they must all form a part of this process which I have brought in these protocols with me.

Crispin. The devil, you say! Hasn't it grown enough already?

Doctor. Herein are set down and inscribed divers other offenses of these defendants, whereunto must be added and conjoined each and every one of those of which you may accuse them now. And I must be the advocate in all of them, for that is the only way in which it will be possible for you to obtain satisfaction and justice. Write, Signor Secretary, and let the said complainants depose.

Pantaloon. It might be better to settle our differences among ourselves. You know what justice is.

Innkeeper. Write nothing. It will only be making the white black, and in the end we shall be left without our money and these rogues without punishment.

Pantaloon. Exactly. My money! My money! And justice afterward.

Doctor. You unlearned, you uncivil, you ignorant generation! What do you know of justice? It is not enough for you to say that you have suffered a wrong, unless there ​be plainly apparent therein an intention to make you suffer that wrong; that is to say, fraud or deceit, which are not the same, although they are confounded in the popular acceptation. But I say unto you that only in the single case——

Pantaloon. Enough! Enough! You will end by telling us that we are the guilty ones.

Doctor. What else am I to think when you persist in denying such a plain and obvious fact?

Innkeeper. I like that. Good! We were robbed. Do you want any plainer or more obvious fact?

Doctor. Know, then, that robbery is not the same as theft, much less is it the same as fraud or deceit, which again are not the same as aforesaid. From the laws of the Twelve Tables down to Justinian, to Tribonian, to Emilian, to Triberian.…

Pantaloon. We shall be cheated out of our money. There is no one who can reason me out of that.

Polichinelle. The Signor Doctor is right. We can safely leave the matter to him and everything will be attended to in the process.

Doctor. Then write. Signor Secretary, write.

Crispin. Will any one listen to me?

Pantaloon. No one, no one. Let that rascal be quiet! Silence for that villain!

Innkeeper. You will have a chance to talk soon enough when you don't want to.

Doctor. He will speak at the proper moment, for justice requires that everybody should be afforded an opportunity to talk. Write, write: In the city of … in the matter of … But it would certainly not be amiss if we proceeded first to an inventory of whatever there is in the house.

Crispin. [Before the door] It certainly would be a miss.…

Doctor. Thence to progress to the deposit of security on ​the part of the complainants, so that there may be no question as to their good faith when they assert that they have suffered a loss. Two thousand crowns will be sufficient from each of you, to be secured by guarantees upon all your goods and chattels.

Pantaloon. What is that? Two thousand crowns from us?

Doctor. I ought to make it eight; however, as you are persons of responsibility, I take that fact into account. I allow nothing to escape me.

Innkeeper. Hold! And write no more! We cannot submit to this.

Doctor. What? Do you threaten justice? Open a separate process for battery and the hand of violence raised against an officer of the law in full performance of his duties.

Pantaloon. This man will be the ruin of us.

Innkeeper. He is mad.

Doctor. What? Do you call me a man and mad? Speak with more respect. Write! Write! Open two more counts. There was also an assault by word of mouth.…

Crispin. Now see what you have done through not listening to me.

Pantaloon. Talk, talk, for heaven's sake! Talk! Anything would be better than what is happening to us now.

Crispin. Then shut off this fellow, for the love of mercy! He is raising up a mountain with his protocols.

Pantaloon. Stop! Stop, I say!

Innkeeper. Put down that pen!

Doctor. Let no man dare to raise his hand.

Crispin. Signor Captain, then lend us your sword. It also is the instrument of justice.

Captain. [Going up to the table and delivering a tremendous ​blow with his sword upon the papers on which the Doctor is engaged] Have the kindness to desist.

Doctor. You see how ready I am to comply with a reasonable request. Suspend the actions. [They stop writing] There is a previous question to be adjudged. The parties dispute among themselves. Nevertheless it will be proper to proceed with the inventory.…

Pantaloon. No! No!

Doctor. It is a formality which cannot be waived.

Crispin. I don't think it would be proper. When the proper time comes you can write as much as you like. But let me have permission first to speak for a moment with these honorable gentlemen.

Doctor. If you wish to have what you are about to say recorded as testimony.…

Crispin. No! By no means. Not a single word, or I shall not open my mouth.

Captain. Better let the fellow talk.

Crispin. What shall I say? What are you complaining about? That you have lost your money? What do you want? To get it back?

Pantaloon. Exactly! Exactly! My money!

Innkeeper. Our money!

Crispin. Then listen to me. Where do you suppose that it is coming from when you insist upon destroying the credit of my master in this fashion, and so make his marriage with the daughter of Signor Polichinelle impossible? Name of Mars! I had rather deal with a thousand knaves than one fool. See what you have done now and how you will be obliged to compound with justice for a half share of what we owe you—I say owe you. How will you be any better off if you succeed in sending us to galleys or to some worse place? Will it put money in your pockets to collect the ​welts on our skins? Will you be richer or nobler or more powerful because we are ruined? On the other hand, if you had not interrupted us at such an inopportune moment, to-day, this very day, you would have received your money with interest, which God knows is enough to send you all to hang on the gallows to remain suspended forever, if justice were not in these hands—and these pens. Now do as you see fit; I have told you what you ought to do.

Doctor. They will remain suspended until further notice.

Captain. I would never have believed it possible that their crimes could have been so great.

Polichinelle. That Crispin.… He will be capable of convincing them.

Pantaloon. [To the Innkeeper] What do you think of this? Looking at it calmly.…

Innkeeper. What do you think?

Pantaloon. You say that your master was to have married the daughter of Signor Polichinelle to-day? But suppose he refuses to give his consent?

Crispin. What good would that do him? His daughter has run away with my master. All the world will soon know it. It is more important to him than it is to any one else not to have it known that his daughter has thrown herself away upon a rapscallion, a man without character, a fugitive from justice.

Pantaloon. Suppose this should turn out to be true? What do you think?

Innkeeper. Better not weaken. The rogue breathes deceit. He is a master.

Pantaloon. You are right. No one can tell how far to believe him. Justice! Justice!

Crispin. I warn you—you lose everything!

​Pantaloon. Wait!.… just a moment. We will see. A word with you, Signor Polichinelle.

Polichinelle. What do you want with me?

Pantaloon. Suppose that we had made a mistake in this complaint. Suppose that Signor Leander should turn out to be, after all, a noble, virtuous gentleman, incapable of the slightest dishonest thought.…

Polichinelle. What is that? Say that again.

Pantaloon. Suppose that your daughter was in love with him madly, passionately, even to the point where she had run away with him from your house?

Polichinelle. My daughter run away from my house with that man? Who says so? Show me the villain! Where is he?

Pantaloon. Don't get excited. It is only in supposition.

Polichinelle. Well, sir, I shall not tolerate it even in supposition.

Pantaloon. Try to listen more calmly. Suppose all this should have happened. Wouldn't the best thing for you to do be to let them marry?

Polichinelle. Marry? I would see them dead first. But it is useless to consider it. I see what you want. You are scheming to recoup yourselves at my expense, you are such rogues yourselves. But it shall not be! It shall not be!

Pantaloon. Take care! We had better not talk about rogues while you are present.

Innkeeper. Hear! Hear!

Polichinelle. Rogues, rogues!—conspiring to impoverish me. But it shall not be! It shall not be!

Doctor. Have no fear, Signor Polichinelle. Even though they should be dissuaded and abandon their design, do you suppose that this process will amount to nothing? Do you ​imagine that one line of what is written in it can ever be blotted out, though two and fifty crimes be alleged therein and proved against them, besides as many more which require no proof?

Pantaloon. What do you say now, Crispin?

Crispin. That though all those crimes were proved three times and those that require no proof yet three times more than the others, you would still be losing your money and wasting your time, for we cannot pay what we do not have.

Doctor. Not at all. That is not good law. For I have to be paid, whatever happens.

Crispin. Then the complainants will have to pay you. We shall have more than we can do to pay our offenses with our backs.

Doctor. The rights of justice are inviolable, and the first of them is to attach in its interest whatever there is in this house.

Pantaloon. But what good will that do us? How shall we get anything?

Innkeeper. Of course not! Don't you see?

Doctor. Write, write, for if we were to talk forever we should never arrive at a conclusion which would be more satisfactory.

Pantaloon and Innkeeper. No! No! Not a word! Not a word!

Crispin. Hear me, first. Signor Doctor! In your ear.… Suppose you were to be paid at once, on the spot and without the trouble of all this writing, your.… what is it that you call them?—crumbs of justice?

Doctor. Perquisites of the law.

Crispin. Have it your own way. What would you say to that?

Doctor. Why, in that case.…

​Crispin. Listen:—my master will be rich to-day, influential, if Signor Polichinelle consents to his marrying his daughter. Remember that the young lady is the only child of Signor Polichinelle; remember that my master will be master indeed not only of her.… Remember.…

Doctor. H'm! It certainly does deserve to be remembered.

Pantaloon. [To Crispin] What does he say?

Innkeeper. What are you going to do?

Doctor. Let me consider. That fellow clearly is not thick-witted. It is easy to see that he is acquainted with legal precedent. For if we remember that the wrong which has been done was purely a pecuniary one, and that every wrong which can be redressed in kind suffers in the reparation the most fitting punishment; if we reflect that in the barbaric and primitive law of vengeance it was written: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, but not a tooth for an eye nor an eye for a tooth, so in the present instance it might be argued a crown for a crown and money for money. He has not taken your lives. Why not? The fact is evidence that he did not wish you to take his in return. He has not insulted your persons, impugned your honor, your reputations. Why not? Plainly because he was not willing to submit to a like indignity from you. Equity is the supremest justice. Equitas justiciam magna est. And from the Pandects to Tribonian, including Emilianus Tribonianus.…

Pantaloon. Include him. So long as we get our money.…

Innkeeper. So long as he pays us.…

Polichinelle. What is this nonsense? How can he pay? What is the use of all this talk?

Crispin. A great deal of use. As I was saying, you are ​all deeply interested in saving my master, in saving both of us, for your own advantage, tor The common good of all. You, so as not to lose your money; the Signor Doctor so as not to see all this vast store of doctrine go for nothing, which he is heaping up in those sarcophagi of learning; the Signor Captain because everybody knows that he was the friend of my master, and it would not be creditable to his valor to have it said that he had been the dupe of an adventurer; you, Signor Harlequin, because your poetic dithyrambs would lose all their merit as soon as it became known with what little sense you composed them; you, Signor Polichinelle, my dear old friend, because your daughter is now, in the sight of God and before man, Signor Leander's wife.

Polichinelle. You lie! You lie! Impudent rascal! Cutthroat!

Crispin. I think then that we had better proceed with the inventory of what there is in the house. Write, write, and let all these gentlemen be our witnesses. We can begin with this apartment.

Pantaloon and the Innkeeper. Silvia!

Captain and Harlequin. Together! Both of them!

Polichinelle. Is it possible? What? Are they all against me? My wife and daughter, too? All, all, for my ruin? Seize that man, these women, this impostor, or I with my own hand.…

Pantaloon. Signor Polichinelle, are you out of your head?

Leander. [Advancing toward the proscenium, accompanied hy the others] Your daughter came to my house under the ​protection of Doña Sirena, believing that I was wounded; and I ran immediately in search of your wife, so that she too might be present with her and protect her. Silvia knows who I am, she knows the whole story of my life of misery and wandering, of cheats and deceptions and lies—how it has been utterly vile; and I am sure that no vestige of our dream of love any longer remains in her heart. Take her away from this place, take her away! That is my only request before I deliver myself up into the hands of justice.

Polichinelle. The punishment of my daughter shall be my affair, but as for this villain.… Seize him, I say!

Silvia. Father! If you do not save him it will be my death. I love him, I shall love him always; I love him now more Than I ever did, because his heart is noble. He has been cruelly unfortunate; and he might have made me his by a lie—but he would not lie.

Polichinelle. Silence! Silence, foolish, unhappy girl! This is the result of the bringing up of your mother, of her vanity, her hallucinations, of all your romantic reading, your music to the light of the moon.

Wife of Polichinelle. Anything would be preferable to having my daughter marry a man like you, to be unhappy afterward all the rest of her life, like her mother. Of what use are my riches to me?

Sirena. You are right, Signora Polichinelle. Of what use are riches without love?

Columbine. The same use as love without riches.

Doctor. Signor Polichinelle, under the circumstances, the only thing for you to do is to let them marry.

Pantaloon. Or there will be a scandal in the city.

Innkeeper. And everybody will be on his side.

Captain. And we can never consent to have you use force against your daughter.

​Doctor. It will have to stand in the process that they were surprised here together.

Crispin. And after all, the only trouble with my master was that he had no money; no one could outdo him in nobility of character: your grandchildren will be gentlemen— even if that quality does not extend up to the grandfather.

All. Let them marry! Let them marry!

Pantaloon. Or we will all turn upon you.

Innkeeper. And your history will be brought to light— the secret story of your life.…

Harlequin. And you will gain nothing by that.

Sirena. A lady begs it of you on her knees, moved to tears by the spectacle of a love so unusual in these days.

Columbine. Which seems more like love in a story.

All. Let them marry! Let them marry!

Polichinelle. Yes! let them marry in an evil hour. My daughter shall be cut off without dowry and without inheritance. I will ruin my estate rather than that this reprobate.…

Doctor. You certainly will not do anything of the kind, Signor Polichinelle.

Pantaloon. Who ever heard of such nonsense?

Innkeeper. I shouldn't think of it for a moment.

Harlequin. What would people say?

Captain. We could never consent to it.

Silvia. No, my dear father, I am the one who cannot accept anything. I am the one who must share the poverty of his fate. I love him so.

Leander. That is the only condition upon which I can accept your love.

Doctor. What do you say? Are you crazy?

Pantaloon. Preposterous! Absurd!

​Innkeeper. You are going to accept everything.

Harlequin. You will be happy and you will be rich.

Wife of Polichinelle. What? My daughter in poverty? Is this wretch the hangman?

Sirena. Remember that love is a delicate babe and able to endure but few privations.

Doctor. It is clearly illegal. Signor Polichinelle, you will sign a munificent donation immediately as befits a person of your dignity and importance, who is a kind and loving father. Write, write, Signor Secretary, for this is something to which nobody will object.

All. [Except Polichinelle] Write! Write!

Doctor. And you, my dear, my innocent young lovers, resign yourselves to riches. You have no right to carry your prejudices to an extreme at which they become offensive to others.

Pantaloon. [To Crispin] Now will you pay us?

Crispin. Do you doubt it? But you will have to swear first that Signor Leander never owed you anything. See how he is sacrificing himself upon your account, accepting this money which is repugnant to him.

Pantaloon. We always knew that he was a perfect, gentleman.

Innkeeper. Always.

Harlequin. We all believed it.

Captain. And we shall continue to maintain our belief.

Crispin. Now, Doctor, this process.… Do you suppose there is waste space enough anywhere in the world for it to be thrown away upon?

Doctor. My foresight has provided for everything. All that will be necessary is to change the punctuation. For example, here where it says: "Whereas I depose and declare, not without due sanction of law".… take out the comma ​and it reads: "Whereas I depose and declare not without due sanction of law." And here: "Wherefore he is not without due judgment condemned".… put in a comma and it reads: "Wherefore he is not, without due judgment condemned".…

Crispin. O excellent comma! O wonderful, O marvellous comma! Stupendous Genius and Miracle of Justice! Oracle of the Law! Thou Monster of Jurisprudence!

Doctor. Now I can rely upon the generosity of your master.

Crispin. You can. Nobody knows better than you do how money will change a man.

Secretary. I was the one who put in and took out the commas.

Crispin. While you are waiting for something better, pray accept this chain. It is of gold.

Secretary. H'm! How many carats fine?

Crispin. You ought to know. You understand commas and carats.

Polichinelle. I impose only one condition:—that this rogue leave your service forever.

Crispin. That will not be necessary. Signor Polichinelle. Do you suppose that I am so poor in ambition as my master?

Leander. What? You are not going to leave me, Crispin? It will not be without sorrow on my part.

Crispin. It will not last long. I can be of no further use to you. With me you will be able to lay aside your lion's skin and your old man's wisdom. What did I tell you, sir? Between them all we were sure to be saved. And believe me now, when you are getting on in the world, the ties of love are as nothing to the bonds of interest.

Leander. You are wrong. For without the love of Silvia I should never have been saved.

​Crispin. And is love a slight interest? I have always given due credit to the ideal and I count upon it always. With this the farce ends.

Silvia. [To the audience] You have seen in it how these puppets have been moved by plain and obvious strings, like men and women in the farces of our lives—strings which were their interests, their passions, and all the illusions and petty miseries of their state. Some are pulled by the feet to lives of restless and weary wandering; some by the hands, to toil with pain, to struggle with bitterness, to strike with cunning, to slay with violence and rage. But into the hearts of all there descends sometimes from heaven an invisible thread, as if it were woven out of the sunlight and the moonbeams, the invisible thread of love, which makes these men and women, as it does these puppets which seem like men, almost divine, and brings to our foreheads the smile and splendors of the dawn, lends wings to our drooping spirits, and whispers to us still that this farce is not all a farce, that there is something noble, something divine in our lives which is true and which is eternal, and which shall not close when the farce of life shall close.