Beau. His oath binds him! he cannot retract without being foresworn,
and those low fellows are always superstitious! But, as it is, I tremble
lest he be discovered: that bluff Colonel Damas (Madame Deschappelles'
cousin) 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, leading 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 beautiful 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