The host, without replying, placed the paper on the table, and himself in an attitude to write, and with the pen in his hand, leaning towards Renzo, he said, “Do me the favour to tell me your name and country.”
“What!” said Renzo, “what has this to do with the bed?”
“I do my duty,” said the host, looking at the guide. “We are obliged to give an exact account of all who lodge at our house. Name and surname, and from what country they are; why they are here; if they have arms; and how long they expect to remain in the city. These are the very words of the proclamation.”
Before answering, Renzo emptied another glass; it was the third, but I fear for the future we shall not find it possible to count them. “Ah, ah!” exclaimed he, “you have the proclamation. Well, I pride myself on being a doctor of laws, and I know what importance is attached to proclamations.”
“I speak in earnest,” said the host, looking again at the mute companion of Renzo; and returning to his desk, he drew from it a large sheet of paper, which he unfolded before Renzo, as an exact copy of the proclamation.
“Ah! there it is!” cried he, quickly emptying the contents of the glass which he held in his hand. “Ah! there it is! the fine sheet! I rejoice to see it. I know these arms; I know what this pagan head means with a noose around its neck.” (The proclamations of that time were headed by the arms of the governor, and in those of Don Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova was seen a Moorish king, chained by the throat.) “This face means, Command who can, and obey who will. When the Signor Don —— shall have been sent to the galleys—well, well, I know what I would say—I have seen another leaf just like this. When he shall have so taken measures that an honest young man can, without molestation, marry her to whom he is betrothed, and by whom he is beloved, then I will tell my name to this face, and will give him a kiss in the bargain. I may have very good reasons for not telling my name; it’s a fine thing, truly! And if a robber, who might have under his command a band of villains, because if he were alone——” He hesitated a moment, finishing the phrase with a gesture, and then proceeded, “If a robber wished to know who I was, in order to do me some evil turn, I ask you if that face would move from the paper to help me. Am I obliged to tell my business? Truly, this is something new. Suppose, for instance, that I have come to Milan to confess—I would wish to do it to a capuchin father, and not to the landlord of an inn.”
The host kept silence, looking at the guide, who appeared not to notice any thing that passed. Renzo, it grieves us to say, swallowed another glass, and continued, “I will give you reasons enough to satisfy you, my dear host; if those proclamations which speak favourably of good Christians are worth nothing, those which speak unfavourably are worth less than nothing. Take away, then, all these encumbrances, and bring in exchange another flagon, because this one is broken.” So saying, he struck it lightly with his hand, adding, “Don’t you hear how it is cracked?”
The discourse of Renzo had again attracted the general attention of the company, and when he concluded, there was a general murmur of applause.
“What must I do?” said the host, looking at the strange companion, who was, however, no stranger to him.
“Yes, yes,” cried many of the company, “this countryman is right; they are vexatious impositions. New laws to-day! new laws to-day!”