Beau. It is too late,--you must marry her! and this day. I have a story already coined, and sure to pass current. This Damas suspects thee,--he will set the police to work!--thou wilt be detected--Pauline will despise and execrate thee. Thou wilt be sent to the common gaol as a swindler. Mel. Fiend! Beau. And in the heat of the girl's resentment (you know of what resentment is capable) and the parents' shame, she will be induced to marry the first that offers--even perhaps your humble servant. Mel. You! No; that were worse--for thou hast no mercy! I will marry her.--I will keep my oath. Quick, then, with the damnable invention thou art hatching;--quick, if thou wouldst not have me strangle thee or myself. Gla. What a tiger! Too fierce for a prince; he ought to have been the Grand Turk. Beau. Enough--I will dispatch; be prepared. [Exeunt BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS. Enter DAMAS with two swords. Damas. Now, then, sir, the ladies are no longer your excuse. I have brought you a couple of dictionaries; let us see if your highness can find out the Latin for bilbo. Mel. Away, sir! I am in no humor for jesting. Damas. I see you understand something of the grammar; you decline the non-substantive "small-swords" with great ease; but that won't do--you must take a lesson in parsing. Mel. Fool! Damas. Sir, as sons take after their mother, so the man who calls me a fool insults the lady who bore me; there's no escape for you--fight you shall, or-- Mel. Oh, enough! enough!--take your ground. They fight; DAMAS is disarmed. MELNOTTE takes up the sword and returns it to DAMAS respectfully. A just punishment to the brave soldier who robs the state of its best property--the sole right to his valor and his life. Damas. Sir, you fence exceedingly well; you must be a man of honor--I don't care a jot whether you are a prince; but a man who has carte and tierce at his fingers' ends must be a gentleman. Mel. [aside.] Gentleman! Ay, I was a gentleman before I turned conspirator; for honest men are the gentlemen of Nature! Colonel, they tell me you rose from the ranks. Damas. I did. Mel. And in two years! Damas. It is true; that's no wonder in our army at present. Why the oldest general in the service is scarcely thirty, and we have some of two-and-twenty. Mel. Two-and-twenty! Damas. Yes; in the French army, now a days, promotion is not a matter of purchase. We are all heroes, because we may be all generals. We have no fear of the cypress, because we may all hope for the laurel. Mel. A general at two-and-twenty! [turning away]--Sir, I may ask you a favor one of these days. Damas. Sir, I shall be proud to grant it. It is astonishing how much I like a man after I've fought with him. [Hides the swords. Enter MADAME DESCHAPPELLES and BEAUSEANT. Mme. Deschap. Oh, prince,--prince!--What do I hear? You must fly--you must quit us! Mel. I!