Damas. What's all that whispering? I am sure there is some juggle here: hang me, if I think he is an Italian after all. Gad, I'll try him. Servitore umillissimo, Eccellenza.* (* Your Excellency's most humble servant.) Mel. Hum--what does he mean, I wonder? Damas. Godo di vedervi in buona salute.* (* I am glad to see you in good health.) Mel. Hem--hem! Damas. Fa bel tempo--the si dice di nuovo? * (* Fine weather. What news is there?) Mel. Well, sir, what's all that gibberish? Damas. Oh, oh!--only Italian, your highness!--The Prince of Como does not understand his own language! Mel. Not as you pronounce it; who the deuce could? Mme. Deschap. Ha! ha! cousin Damas, never pretend to what you don't know. Pauline. Ha! ha! cousin Damas; you speak Italian, indeed! [Makes a mocking gesture at him. Beau. [to GLAVIS]. Clever dog!--how ready! Gla. Ready, yes; with my diamond ring!--Damn his readiness! Damas. Laugh at me!--laugh at a Colonel in the French army!--the fellow's an impostor; I know he is. I'll see if he understands fighting as well as he does Italian.--[Goes up to him, and aside.] Sir, you are a jackanapes.--Can you construe that? Mel. No, sir; I never construe affronts in the presence of ladies; by-and-by I shall be happy to take a lesson--or give one. Damas. I'll find the occasion, never fear! Mme. Deschap. Where are you going, cousin? Damas. To correct my Italian. [Exit. Beau. [to GLAVIS]. Let us after, and pacify him; he evidently suspects something. Gla. Yes!--but my diamond ring! Beau. And my box!--We are over-taxed fellow-subjects!--we must stop the supplies, and dethrone the prince. Gla. Prince!--he ought to be heir-apparent to King Stork. [Exeunt BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS. Mme. Deschap. Dare I ask your highness to forgive my cousin's insufferable vulgarity? Pauline. Oh yes!--you will forgive his manner for the sake of his heart. Mel. And the sake of his cousin.--Ah, madam, there is one comfort in rank,--we are so sure of our position that we are not easily affronted. Besides, M. Damas has bought the right of indulgence from his friends, by never showing it to his enemies. Pauline. Ah! he is, indeed, as brave in action as he is rude in speech. He rose from the ranks to his present grade, and in two years! Mel. In two years!--two years, did you say? Mme. Deschap. [aside]. I don't like leaving girls alone with their lovers; but, with a prince, it would be so ill-bred to be prudish. [Exit. Mel. You can be proud of your connection with one who owes his position to merit--not birth. Pauline. Why, yes; but still Mel. Still what, Pauline! Pauline. There is something glorious in the heritage of command. A man who has ancestors is like a representative of the past. Mel. True; but, like other representatives, nine times out of ten he is a silent member. Ah, Pauline! not to the past, but to the future, looks true nobility, and finds its blazon in posterity.