At first, in truth, I might not have been won, Save through the weakness of a flatter'd pride;But now,--oh! trust me,--couldst thou fall from power And sink--Mel. As low as that poor gardener's son Who dared to lift his eyes to thee?--Pauline. Even then, Methinks thou wouldst be only made more dear By the sweet thought that I could prove how deep Is woman's love! We are like the insects, caught By the poor glittering of a garish flame;But, oh, the wings once scorch'd, the brightest star Lures us no more; and by the fatal light We cling till death!

Mel. Angel! [Aside.] O conscience! conscience!

It must not be; her love hath grown a torture Worse than her hate. I will at once to Beauseant, And--ha! he comes. Sweet love, one moment leave me.

I have business with these gentlemen--I--I Will forwith join you.

Pauline. Do not tarry long! [Exit.

Enter BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.

Mel. Release me from my oath,--I will not marry her!

Beau Then thou art perjured.

Mel. No, I was not in my senses when I swore to thee to marry her!

I was blind to all but her scorn!--deaf to all but my passion and my rage! Give me back my poverty and my honor!

Beau. It is too late,--you must marry her! and this day.

I have a story already coined, and sure to pass current.

This Damas suspects thee,--he will set the police to work!--thou wilt be detected--Pauline will despise and execrate thee.

Thou wilt be sent to the common gaol as a swindler.

Mel. Fiend!

Beau. And in the heat of the girl's resentment (you know of what resentment is capable) and the parents' shame, she will be induced to marry the first that offers--even perhaps your humble servant.

Mel. You! No; that were worse--for thou hast no mercy!

I will marry her.--I will keep my oath. Quick, then, with the damnable invention thou art hatching;--quick, if thou wouldst not have me strangle thee or myself.

Gla. What a tiger! Too fierce for a prince; he ought to have been the Grand Turk.

Beau. Enough--I will dispatch; be prepared.

[Exeunt BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.

Enter DAMAS with two swords.

Damas. Now, then, sir, the ladies are no longer your excuse.

I have brought you a couple of dictionaries; let us see if your highness can find out the Latin for bilbo.

Mel. Away, sir! I am in no humor for jesting. Damas. I see you understand something of the grammar; you decline the non-substantive "small-swords" with great ease; but that won't do--you must take a lesson in parsing.

Mel. Fool! Damas. Sir, as sons take after their mother, so the man who calls me a fool insults the lady who bore me;there's no escape for you--fight you shall, or--Mel. Oh, enough! enough!--take your ground.

They fight; DAMAS is disarmed. MELNOTTE takes up the sword and returns it to DAMAS respectfully. A just punishment to the brave soldier who robs the state of its best property--the sole right to his valor and his life.

Damas. Sir, you fence exceedingly well; you must be a man of honor--I don't care a jot whether you are a prince; but a man who has carte and tierce at his fingers' ends must be a gentleman.

Mel. [aside.] Gentleman! Ay, I was a gentleman before Iturned conspirator; for honest men are the gentlemen of Nature! Colonel, they tell me you rose from the ranks.

Damas. I did.

Mel. And in two years!

Damas. It is true; that's no wonder in our army at present.

Why the oldest general in the service is scarcely thirty, and we have some of two-and-twenty.

Mel. Two-and-twenty!

Damas. Yes; in the French army, now a days, promotion is not a matter of purchase. We are all heroes, because we may. be all generals.

We have no fear of the cypress, because we may all hope for the laurel.

Mel. A general at two-and-twenty! [turning away]--Sir, I may ask you a favor one of these days.

Damas. Sir, I shall be proud to grant it. It is astonishing how much I like a man after I've fought with him. [Hides the swords.

Enter MADAME DESCHAPPELLES and BEAUSEANT.

Mme. Deschap. Oh, prince,--prince!--What do I hear? You must fly--you must quit us!

Mel. I!