curl his
hair. This is an improvement; but she does not like his brown
coat.[396] He must write to Paris and order a suit of _gris-de-lin
clair_, and after some wrangling he consents. But now the Presidente
takes up the running. After expressing the extremest admiration for his
coiffure, she makes a dead set at him, tells him she wants a second
husband whom she can love for himself, and goes off with a passionate
glance, the company letting him casually know that she has ten thousand
crowns a year. He affects to despise this, which is duly reported to her
next morning. She vows vengeance; but he dreams of her (and the crowns)
meanwhile, and with that morning the new suit arrives. He is admiring
himself in it when Cleon comes in, and throws himself on his mercy. He
adores Clarice; Ariste is evidently gaining fatally on her affections;
will he not be generous and abstain from using his advantages? But if
_he_ is really in love Cleon will give her up.

The hook is, of course, more than singly baited and barbed. Ariste can
at once play the magnanimous man, and be rewarded by the Presidente's
ten thousand a year. He will be off with Clarice and on with Mme. de
Ponval, whom he visits in his new splendour. She admires it hugely, but
is alarmed at seeing him in Clarice's favourite colour. An admirable
conversation follows, in which she constantly draws her ill-bred,
ill-blooded, and self-besotted suitor into addressing her with insults,
under the guise of compliments, and affects to enjoy them. He next
visits Clarice, with whom he finds Cleon, in the depths of despair. She
begins to admire the coat, and to pride herself on her choice, when he
interrupts her, and solemnly resigns her to Cleon. Doris and Lucinde
come in, and everybody is astounded at Ariste's generosity as he takes
Clarice's hand and places it in that of his rival. Then he goes to the
Presidente, and tells her what he has done. She expresses her delight,
and he falls at her feet. Thereupon she throws round his neck a
rose-coloured ribbon (_her_ colours), calls him "her Charming man,"[397]
and insists on showing him to the public as her conquest and captive. He
has no time to refuse, for the door opens and they all appear. "Le
voila," says she, "cet homme si fier qui soupire a mes genoux pour les
beaux yeux de ma cassette! Je vous le livre. Mon role est joue." So
Ariste, tearing his curled hair, and the _gris-de-lin clair_ coat, and,
doubtless, the Presidente's "