Prince Paul (calmly). I see your Highness does want change of air. But I have been an eldest son myself. (Lights a cigarette.) I know what it is when a father won't die to please one.
(The Czarevitch goes to the top of the stage, and leans against the window, looking out.)
Prince Petro. (to Baron Raff). Foolish boy! [4]He will be sent into exile, or worse, if he is not careful.[4]
Baron Raff. Yes.[5] What a mistake it is to be sincere!
Prince Petro. The only folly you have never committed, Baron.
Baron Raff. One has only one head, you know, Prince.
Prince Paul. My dear Baron, your head is the last thing any one would wish to take from you. (Pulls out snuffbox and offers it to Prince Petrovitch.)
Prince Petro. Thanks, Prince! Thanks!
Prince Paul. Very delicate, isn't it? I get it direct from Paris. But under this vulgar Republic everything has degenerated over there. "Cotelettes à l'impériale" vanished, of course, with the Bourbon, and omelettes went out with the Orleanists. La belle France is entirely ruined, Prince, through bad morals and worse cookery. (Enter the Marquis de Poivrard.) Ah! Marquis. I trust Madame la Marquise is well.
Marquis de P. You ought to know better than I do, Prince Paul; you see more of her.