M. 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?
M. 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!
M. Deschap. [taking snuff]. That was two years and a half ago.
Damas. Very true. Poor Melnotte!
M. 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 honorable 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.
M. 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.