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 I heard your porter say he was wonderfully like his highness.