LANDLORD.

You may laugh, but it is as true as I stand here.

BEAUSEANT.

And what does the Beauty of Lyons say to his suit?

LANDLORD.

Lord, Sir, she never even condescended to look at him, though when he was a boy he worked in her father's garden.

BEAUSEANT.

Are you sure of that?

LANDLORD.

His mother says that Mademoiselle does not know him by sight.

BEAUSEANT (taking Glavis aside).

I have hit it, I have it; here is our revenge!

Here is a prince for our haughty damsel. Do you take me?

GLAVIS.

Deuce take me if I do!

Blockhead!

BEAUSEANT.

it's as clear as a map. What if we

could make this elegant clown pass himself off as a foreign

lend him money, clothes, equipage for the pur

prince? pose?

--

make him propose to Pauline!

marry Pauline?

Would it not be delicious?

GLAVIS.

Ha! ha! Excellent! But how shall we support the

necessary expenses of his highness?

BEAUSEANT.

Pshaw! Revenge is worth a much larger sacrifice than a few hundred louis; as for details, my valet is the trustiest fellow in the world, and shall have the appointment of his highness's establishment. Let's go to him at once, and see if he be really this Admirable Crichton.

GLAVIS.

With all my heart;

but the dinner?

BEAUSEANT.

Always thinking of dinner! Hark ye, Landlord, how far is it to young Melnotte's cottage? I should like to see such a prodigy.

LANDLORD.

Turn down the lane, then strike across the com

mon,

and you will see his mother's cottage.

BEAUSEANT.

True, he lives with his mother.

(Aside) We will

not trust to an old woman's discretion; better send for

him hither. I'll just step in and write him a note. Come, Glavis.

The Interior of Melnotte's Cottage; flowers placed here and there; a guitar on an oaken table, with a portfolio, &c.; a picture on an easel, covered by a curtain; fencing-foils crossed over the mantelpiece; an attempt at refinement in spite of the homeliness of the furniture, &c.; a staircase to the right conducts to the upper story.

(Shout without) — "Long live Claude Melnotte!" "Long live the prince!"

I'm sure: and now he'll want to treat them all.

CLAUDE MELNOTTE (opening the door).

What! you won't come in, my friends! Well, well,

there's a trifle to make merry elsewhere. Good day to Good day!

you all,

(Enter Claude Melnotte, with a rifle in his hand.)

MELNOTTE.

Give me joy, dear mother! I've won the prize! never missed one shot! Is it not handsome, this gun?

WIDOW.

Humph! Well, what is it worth, Claude?

MELNOTTE.

Worth! What is a ribbon worth to a soldier? Worth!

everything! Glory is priceless!

WIDOW.

Leave glory to great folks. Ah! Claude, castles in the air cost a vast deal to keep up! How is all this to end? What good does it to thee to learn Latin, and sing songs, and play on the guitar, and fence, and dance, and paint pictures? All very fine; but what does it bring in?

Do the stars think of us? Yet if the prisoner see them shine into his dungeon, would'st thou bid him turn away from their lustre? Even so from this low cell, poverty, I lift my eyes to Pauline and forget my chains. (Goes to the picture and draws aside the curtain.)

(Takes up the brush and throws it aside.)

I shall never be a painter. I can paint no likeness but one, and that is above all art. I would turn soldier France needs soldiers! But to leave the air that Pauline breathes! What is the hour?

so late? I will tell thee

a secret, mother. Thou knowest that for the last six weeks I have sent every day the rarest flowers to Pauline; she wears them. I have seen them on her breast. Ah, and then the whole universe seemed filled with odours! I have now grown more bold I have poured my wor