You remember what Hamlet says? "I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself king of infinite space."
Prince Florencio. But he had bad dreams.
Harry Lucenti. I do not; I reign within my nutshell. I have founded an empire of myself, at war with all the world. My spirit is an island more impregnable than the cliffs of my country.
Prince Florencio. How do you manage it?
Harry Lucenti. By making myself hated by everybody. Do you know to what the weaknesses, the compromises, the petty cowardices of human nature are due? They are the result of kindness, of sympathy. We attribute to others virtues which they do not possess, and then, so as to meet them upon an equal footing, we are obliged to pretend to virtues which we do not possess.
Prince Florencio. A paradox, I suppose? Well, you haven't made yourself hated by me.
Harry Lucenti. Not as yet—because I have never told you the truth.
Prince Florencio. Why not bring yourself to it? You may if you like.
Harry Lucenti. The truth? You poor devil of a Prince, impotent, ridiculous, and rotten to the core!
Prince Florencio. Bah! Hand me the whiskey.
Harry Lucenti. The truth, Florencio, it is the truth. Your escapades! Your vices! You imagine that you are scandalizing the world when you are only shocking the old ladies of Suavia. Your bacchantes are all provided by the restaurant at five hundred francs, everything included. You will find them on the bill—little runaway schoolgirls, whose heads have been turned by reading a couple of silly novels. The depths of hell and infamy into which you descend with trembling are these! I can see you now… Hail, Emperor! Elagabalus! Child of the sun!
