"That future, nevertheless, depends on you."
"No, monseigneur, to draw music from the lyre, some one must make it vibrate."
"And who will that happy mortal be?"
"My God! who knows? Perhaps you, monseigneur."
"I!" cried the prince, charmed, transported. "I!"
"I say perhaps."
"Oh, what must I do?"
"Please me."
"And how shall I do that?"
"Listen, monseigneur."