uldst thou love this man, if he loved thee?

_Gycia_ (_throwing herself on her father's neck_). Father!

_Lama._ Say no more, girl. I am not so old as yet
That I have quite forgotten my own youth,
When I was young and loved; and if I err not,
I read love's fluttering signals on thy cheek,
And in his tell-tale eyes. But listen! Music!
We must prepare for supper with our guests.

SCENE III.--_A street in Cherson._

MEGACLES; _afterwards_ MELISSA.

_Megacles._ Well, it is time for the banquet. Somehow, this place
improves on acquaintance, after all. Poor, of course, and rude to a
degree. But truly the Lady Gycia is fair--as fair, indeed, as if she
was the Emperor's daughter. She is a beautiful creature, truly. But
give _me_ that delightful lady-in-waiting of hers, the Lady Melissa.
What grace! what rounded proportions! I like mature beauty. She is as
like the late divine Empress as two peas, and I thought--I dare say I
was wrong, but I really thought--I made an impression. Poor things!
poor things! They can't help themselves. We courtiers really ought to
be very careful not to abuse our power. It is positive cruelty. The
contest is too unequal. It makes one inclined sometimes to put on the
manners of a clown, so as to give them a chance. Nay, nay, you might
as well ask the Ethiopian to change his skin as a courtier his fine
manners. By all the saints! here she comes in _propria persona_.

_Enter the_ LADY MELISSA.

_Mel._ Heavens! it is the strange nobleman. I am sure I am all of a
flutter.

_Meg._ (_advancing with formal bows_). My lady, I am enchanted (_bows
again; then takes several steps to the right, then to the left, and
bows_). What a wonderful good fortune! Ever since I had the honour to
see you just now, I have only lived in the hope of seeing you again.

_Mel._ (_curtsying_). Oh, my lord, you great courtiers can find
little to interest you in our poor little Court and its humble
surroundings.

_Meg._ Madam, I beg! not a word! I was just thinking that you exactly
resembled the late divine Empress.

_Mel._ Oh, my lord, forbear! The Empress! and I have never been out
of Cherson! You flatter me, you flatter me, indeed. That is the way
with all you courtiers from Constantinople. Now, if you had said that
my Lady Gycia was beautiful----

_Meg._ My dear lady, I do not admire her in the least. She has no
manners, really--nothing, at any rate, to attract a man of the great
world; a mer