Good morrow, Monsieur Beauseant! How fares it with you?
Beau. [aside.] Damas! that is unfortunate;--if the Italian campaign should have filled his pockets, he may seek to baffle me in the moment of my victory. [Aloud]. Your servant, general,--for such, I think, is your new distinction! Just arrived in Lyons?
Damas. Not an hour ago. Well, how go on the Deschappelles? Have they forgiven you in that affair of young Melnotte? You had some hand in that notable device,- -eh?
Beau. Why, less than you think for! The fellow imposed upon me. I have set it all right now. What has become of him? He could not have joined the army, after all. There is no such name in the books.
Damas. I know nothing about Melnotte. As you say, I never heard the name in the Grand Army.
Beau. Hem!--You are not married, general?
Damas. Do I look like a married man, sir?--No, thank Heaven! My profession is to make widows, not wives.
Beau. You must have gained much booty in Italy! Pauline will be your heiress--eh?
Damas. Booty! Not I! Heiress to what? Two trunks and a portmanteau,-- four horses,--three swords, two suits of regimentals, and six pair of white leather inexpressibles! A pretty fortune for a young lady!
Beau. [aside.] Then all is safe! [Aloud]. Ha! ha! Is that really all your capital, General Damas? Why, I thought Italy had been a second Mexico to you soldiers.
Damas. All a toss-up, sir. I was not one of the lucky ones! My friend Morier, indeed, saved something handsome. But our commander-in-chief took care of him, and Morier is a thrifty, economical dog,--not like the rest of us soldiers, who spend our money as carelessly as if it were our blood.
Beau. Well, it is no matter! I do not want fortune with Pauline. And you must know, General Damas, that your fair cousin has at length consented to reward my long and ardent attachment.
Damas. You!--the devil! Why, she is already married! There is no divorce!
Beau. True; but this very day she is formally to authorize the necessary proceedings, this very day she is to sign the contract that is to make her mine within one week from the day on which her present illegal marriage is annulled.
Damas. You tell me wonders!--Wonders! No; I believe anything of women!
Beau. I must wish you good morning. [As he is going, enter DESCHAPPELLES.
M. Deschap. Oh, Beauseant! well met. Let us come to the notary at once.
Damas [to Deschap.]. Why, cousin!
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.
M. Deschap. Till then, adieu--come Beauseant.
[Exeunt BEAUSEANT and DESCHAPELLES
Damas. The man who sets his heart upon a woman Is a chameleon, and doth feed on air; From air he takes his colors--holds his life,-- Changes with every wind,--grows lean or fat, Rosy with hope, or green with jealousy, Or pallid with despair--just as the gale Varies from North to South--from heat to cold! Oh, woman! woman! thou shouldst have few sins Of thine own to answer for! Thou art the author Of such a book of follies in a man, That it would need the tears of all the angels To blot the record out!
[Enter MELNOTTE, pale and agitated.
I need not tell thee! Thou hast heard--
Mel. The worst! I have!
Damas. Be cheer'd; others are fair as she is!
Mel. Others! The world is crumbled at my feet! She was my world; fill'd up the whole of being-- Smiled in the sunshine--walk'd the glorious earth-- Sate in my heart--was the sweet life of life. The Past was hers; I dreamt not of a Future That did not wear her shape! Mem'ry and Hope Alike are gone. Pauline is faithless! Henceforth The universal space is desolate!
Damas. Hope yet.
Mel. Hope, yes!--one hope is left me still-- A soldier's grave! Glory has died with love. I look into my heart, and, where I saw Pauline, see Death!
[After a pause].--But am I not deceived? I went but by the rumor of the town; Rumor is false,--I was too hasty! Damas, Whom hast thou seen?
Damas.