The Gardens of M. DESCHAPPELLEs' house at Lyons--the house seen at the back of the stage.

Enter BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.

Beau. Well, what think you of my plot? Has it not succeeded to a miracle? The instant that I introduced his Highness the Prince of Como to the pompous mother and the scornful daughter, it was all over with them: he came--he saw--he conquered: and, though it is not many days since he arrived, they have already promised him the hand of Pauline.

Gla. It is lucky, though, that you told them his highness travelled incognito, for fear the Directory (who are not very fond of princes)should lay him by the heels; for he has a wonderful wish to keep up his rank, and scatters our gold about with as much coolness as if he were watering his own flower-pots.

Beau. True, he is damnably extravagant; I think the sly dog does it out of malice. How ever, it must be owned that he reflects credit on his loyal subjects, and makes a very pretty figure in his fine clothes, with my diamond snuff-box.

Gla. And my diamond ring! But do you think he will be firm to the last?

I fancy I see symptoms of relenting: he will never keep up his rank, if he once let out his conscience.

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, Ieading in PAULINE; MADAMEDESCHAPPELLES, 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?)