The Lady of Lyons | Page 9

evidently suspects him: we must make haste
and conclude the farce: I have thought of a plan to end it this very day.
Gla. This very day! Poor Pauline: her dream will be soon over.
Beau. Yes, this day they shall be married; this evening, according to his
oath, he shall carry his bride to the Golden Lion, and then pomp,
equipage, retinue, and title, all shall vanish at once; and her Highness
the Princess shall find that she has refused the son of a Marquis, to
marry the son of a gardener.--Oh, Pauline! once loved, now hated, yet
still not relinquished, thou shalt drain the cup to the dregs,--thou shalt
know what it is to be humbled!
Enter from the house, MELNOTTE, as the Prince of Como, Ieading in
PAULINE; MADAME
DESCHAPPELLES, fanning herself; and COLONEL DAMAS.
[BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS bow respectfully. fully. PAULINE and
MELNOTTE walk apart.
Mme. Deschap. Good morning, gentlemen; really I am so fatigued with
laughter; the dear Prince is so entertaining. What wit he has! Any one
may see that he has spent his whole life in courts.
Damas. And what the deuce do you know about courts, cousin

Deschappelles? You women regard men just as you buy books-- you
never care about what is in them, but how they are bound and lettered.
'Sdeath, I don't think you would even look at your Bible if it had not a
title to it.
Mme. Deschap. How coarse you are, cousin Damas!--quite the manners
of a barrack--you don't deserve to be one of our family; really we must
drop your acquaintance when Pauline marries. I cannot patronize any
relations that would discredit my future son-in-law, the Prince of
Como.
Mel. [advancing]. These are beautifui gardens, madame,
(BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS retire--who planned them
Mme. Deschap. A gardener named Melnotte, your highness-- an honest
man who knew his station. I can't say as much for his son-- a
presuming fellow, who,--ha! ha! actually wrote verses--such
doggerel!-- to my daughter.
Pauline. Yes, how you would have laughed at them, Prince! you, who
write such beautiful verses!
Mel. This Melnotte must be a monstrous impudent person!
Damas. Is he good-looking?
Mme. Deschap. I never notice such canaille--an ugly, mean-looking
clown, if I remember right.
Damas. Yet I heard your porter say he was wonderfully like his
highness.
Mel. [taking snuff]. You are complimentary.
Mme. Deschap. For shame, cousin Damas!--like the Prince, indeed!
Pauline. Like you! Ah, mother, like our beautiful prince! I'll never
speak to you again, cousin Damas.

Mel. [aside]. Humph!--rank is a great beautifier! I never passed for an
Apollo while I was a peasant; if I am so handsome as a prince, what
should I be as an emperor! [Aloud.] Monsieur Beauseant, will you
honor me? [Offers snuff.
Beau. No, your highness; I have no small vices.
Mel. Nay, if it were a vice, you'd be sure to have it, Monsieur
Beauseant.
Mme. Deschap. Ha! ha!--how very severe!--what wit!
Beau. [in a rage and aside]. Curse his impertinence!
Mme. Deschap. What a superb snuff-box! Pauline. And what a
beautiful ring!
Mel. You like the box--a trifle--interesting perhaps from associations--
a present from Louis XIV. to my great-great grandmother. Honor me
by--accepting it.
Beau. plucking him by the sleeve. How!--what the devil! My box--are
you mad? It is worth five hundred louis.
Mel. [unheeding him, and turning to PAULINE]. And you like this ring?
Ah, it has, indeed a lustre since your eyes have shone on it placing it on
her finger. Henceforth hold me, sweet enchantress, the Slave of the
Ring.
Gla. [pulling him]. Stay, stay--what are you about? My maiden aunt's
legacy--a diamond of the first water. You shall be hanged for swindling,
sir.
Mel. [pretending not to hear]. It is curious, this ring; it is the one with
which my grandfather, the Doge of Venice, married the Adriatic!
(Madame and PAULINE examine the ring. Mel. [to BEAUSEANT and
GLAVIS]. Fie, gentlemen! princes must be generous?--[Turns to
DAMAS, who watches them closely.] These kind friends have my

interest so much at heart, that they are as careful of my property as if it
were their own!
Beau and Gla. [confusedly]. Ha! ha!--very good joke that!
[Appears to remonstrate with MELNOTTE in dumb show.
Damas. What's all that whispering? I am sure there is some juggle here:
hang me, if I think he is an Italian after all. Gad, I'll try him. Servitore
umillissimo, Eccellenza.* (* Your Excellency's most humble servant.)
Mel. Hum--what does he mean, I wonder?
Damas. Godo di vedervi in buona salute.* (* I am glad to see you in
good health.)
Mel. Hem--hem!
Damas. Fa bel tempo--the si dice di nuovo? * (* Fine weather. What
news is there?)
Mel. Well, sir, what's all that gibberish?
Damas. Oh, oh!--only Italian, your highness!--The Prince of Como