SECOND OFFICER (to Third).

The General is sore upon this point; you will only chafe him.Any commands, General ?

None.Good day to you !

DAMAS.

[Exeunt Second and Third Officers.

DAMAS.

Our comrades are very inquisitive. Poor Morier is the subject of a vast deal of curiosity.

FIRST OFFICER.

Say interest, rather, General. His constant melancholy,the loneliness of his habits,–his daring valour, his brilliant rise in the profession,-your friendship, and the favours of the Commander-in-Chief,-all tend to make him as much the matter of gossip as of admiration. But where is he, General?

I have missed him all the morning.

DAMAS.

Why, Captain, I'll let you into a secret. My young friend has come with me to Lyons in hopes of finding a miracle.

Exactly so. No sooner did he enter Lyons than he waved his hand to me, threw himself from his horse, and is now, I warrant, asking every one, who can know anything about the matter, whether a certain lady is still true to a certain gentleman!

FIRST OFFICER.

Success to him!—and of that success there can be no doubt. The gallant Colonel Morier, the hero of Lodi, might make his choice out of the proudest families in France.

DAMAS.

Oh, if pride be a recommendation, the lady and her mother are most handsomely endowed. By the way, Captain, if you should chance to meet with Morier, tell him he will find me at the hotel.

I will, General.

FIRST OFFICER.

[Exit.

DAMAS.

Now will I go to the Deschappelles, and make a report to my young Colonel. Ha! by Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, Virorum,-here comes Monsieur Beauseant!

Enter Beauseant.

Good morrow, Monsieur Beauseant! How fares it with you?

BEAUSEANT (aside).

Damas! that is unfortunate;-if the Italian campaign should have filled his pockets, he may seek to baffle me in the moment of my victory. (Aloud) Your servant, General,-for such, I think, is your new distinction! Just arrived in Lyons?

DAMAS.

Not an hour ago. Well, how go on the Deschappelles? Have they forgiven you in that affair of young Melnotte? You had some hand in that notable device,-eh?

BEAUSEANT.

Why, less than you think for!

me.

I have set it all right now.

The fellow imposed upon What has become of him?

He could not have joined the army after all. There is no such name in the books.

DAMAS.

I know nothing about Melnotte. As you say, I never heard the name in the Grand Army.

BEAUSEANT.

Hem! You are not married, General?

DAMAS.

Do I look like a married man, Sir?-No, thank Heaven! My profession is to make widows, not wives.

BEAUSEANT.

You must have gained much booty, in Italy! Pauline will be your heiress---eh?

DAMAS.

Booty! Not I! Heiress to what? Two trunks and a portmanteau,-four horses,-three swords,-two suits of regimentals, and six pair of white leather inexpressibles! A pretty-fortune for a young lady!

BEAUSEANT.

(Aside) Then all is safe! (Aloud) Ha! ha! Is that really all your capital, General Damas? Why, I thought Italy had been a second Mexico to you soldiers.

DAMAS.

All a toss up, Sir. I was not one of the lucky ones! My friend Morier, indeed, saved something handsome. But our Commander-in-Chief took care of him, and Morier is a thrifty, economical dog,-not like the rest of us soldiers, who spend our money as carelessly as if it were our blood.

BEAUSEANT.

Well, it is no matter! I do not want fortune with Pauline. And you must know, General Damas, that your fair cousin has at length consented to reward my long and ardent attachment.

DAMAS.

You !-the devil! Why, she is already married! There is no divorce!

BEAUSEANT.

True; but this very day she is formally to authorize the necessary proceedings, this very day she is to sign the contract that is to make her mine within one week from the day on which her present illegal marriage is annulled.

DAMAS.

You tell me wonders!-Wonders! No; I believe anything of women!

BEAUSEANT.

I must wish you good morning.

(As he is going, enter Deschappelles.)

MONS. DESCHAP.

Oh, Beauseant! well met. Let us come to the notary at once. DAMAS (to Deschappelles).

Why, cousin!

MONS. DESCHAP.

Damas, welcome to Lyons. Pray call on us; my wife will be delighted to see you.

DAMAS.

Your wife be-blessed for her condescension! But (taking him aside) what do I hear? Is it possible that your daughter has consented to a divorce?-that she will marry Monsieur Beauseant?

MONS. DESCHAP.

Certainly! What have you to say against it? A gentleman of birth, fortune, character. We are not so proud as we were ; even my wife has had enough of nobility and princes!

DAMAS.

But Pauline loved that young man so tenderly!

MONS. DESCHAP. (taking snuff).
years and a half ago!

That was two

DAMAS.

Very true. Poor Melnotte!

MONS. DESCHAP.

But do not talk of that impostor; I hope he is dead or has left the country. Nay, even were he in Lyons at this moment, he ought to rejoice that, in an honourable and suitable alliance, my daughter may forget her sufferings and his crime.

DAMAS.

Nay, if it be all settled, I have no more to say. Monsieur Beauseant informs me that the contract is to be signed this very day.

MONS. DESCHAP.

It is; at one o'clock precisely. Will you be one of the witnesses?

DAMAS.

I?-No; that is to say-yes, certainly!-at one o'clock I will wait on you.

MONS. DESCHAP.

Till then, adieu-come Beauseant.

[Exeunt Beauseant and Deschappelles.

DAMAS.

The man who sets his heart upon a woman
Is a chameleon, and doth feed on air;
From air he takes his colours,-holds his life,-
Changes with every wind,-grows lean or fat;
Rosy with hope, or green with jealousy,
Or pallid with despair-just as the gale
Varies from north to south-from heat to cold!
Oh, woman! woman! thou should'st have few sins
Of thine own to answer for! Thou art the author
Of such a book of follies in a man,

That it would need the tears of all the angels
To blot the record out!

Enter Melnotte, pale and agitated.

I need not tell thee!

Thou hast heard

MELNOTTE.

I have!

The worst!

DAMAS.

Be cheer'd; others are as fair as she is!

MELNOTTE.

Others!-The world is crumbled at my feet!
She was my world; fill'd up the whole of being-
Smiled in the sunshine-walk'd the glorious earth-
Sate in my heart-was the sweet life of life.

The Past was hers: I dreamt not of a Future

That did not wear her shape! Mem'ry and Hope
Alike are gone.
Pauline is faithless!

The universal space is desolate!

Henceforth

Hope yet.

DAMAS.

MELNOTTE.

Hope, yes!-one hope is left me still

A soldier's grave! Glory has died with Love;
I look into my heart, and, where I saw
Pauline, see Death!

(After a pause.)-But am I not deceived?
I went but by the rumour of the town;
Rumour is false,-I was too hasty! Damas,
Whom hast thou seen?

DAMAS.

Thy rival and her father. Arm thyself for the truth!-He heeds not

MELNOTTE.

She

Will never know how deeply she was loved!
The charitable night, that wont to bring
Comfort to day, in bright and eloquent dreams,
Is henceforth leagued with misery! Sleep, farewell,
Or else become eternal! Oh, the waking

From false oblivion, and to see the sun,

And know she is another's!

Hush!-No word against her!

Why should she keep, thro' years and silent absence,

The holy tablets of her virgin faith

True to a traitor's name? Oh, blame her not,