Ninetto Costa hung his head.
'I must go to prison, and my family will have no bread. You must give me the eleven hundred francs, you know!' shrieked Don Crescenzio in a great rage.
'I have not got it.'
'Look for it.'
'I shall not find it. No one will give it to me.'
'You must find it; I cannot go to prison for you. Find it.'
'It is impossible, Don Crescenzio,' said the stock-broker, with tears in his eyes.
'Nothing is impossible when it has to do with a debt like this, when it is a question of saving an honest man from ruin. For pity's sake, Don Ninetto; you know how dear honour is.'
'Yes, I do,' said the other, turning his face away.
'For pity's sake don't forsake me. I have done you a favour; don't be so ungrateful.'