orth
I' the midst of roses!--Dost thou like the picture?

PAULINE. Oh, as the bee upon the flower, I hang
Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue!
Am I not blest? And if I love too wildly,
Who would not love thee like Pauline?

MEL. Oh, false one!
It is the prince thou lovest, not the man;
If in the stead of luxury, pomp, and power,
I had painted poverty, and toil, and care,
Thou hadst found no honey on my tongue; Pauline,
That is not love.

PAULINE. Thou wrong'st me, cruel Prince!
At first, in truth, I might not have been won,
Save through the weakness of a flatter'd pride;
But now--oh! trust me--couldst thou fall from power
And sink--

MEL. As low as that poor gardener's son
Who dared to lift his eyes to thee?

PAULINE. Even then,
Methinks thou wouldst be only made more dear
By the sweet thought that I could prove how deep
Is woman's love! We are like the insects, caught
By the poor glittering of a garish flame;
But, oh, the wings once scorch'd, the brightest star
Lures us no more; and by the fatal light
We cling till death!

MEL. Angel! [_Aside._] O conscience! conscience!
It must not be--her love hath grown a torture
Worse than her hate. I will at once to Beauseant,
And--ha! he comes. Sweet love, one moment leave me.
I have business with these gentlemen--I--I
Will forthwith join you.

PAULINE. I obey, sweet Prince. [_Exit separately._

ACT III, SCENE II

CHARACTERS: Pauline, Claude, and the Widow Melnotte, the mother of
Claude.

SCENE: Melnotte's cottage, widow bustling about, a table spread for
supper.

WIDOW. So, I think that looks very neat. He sent me a line, so blotted
that I can scarcely read it, to say he would be here almost immediately.
She must have loved him well indeed to have forgotten his birth; for
though he was introduced to her in disguise, he is too honorable not to
have revealed to her the artifice; which her love only could forgive.
Well, I do not wonder at it; for though my son is not a prince, he ought
to be one, and that's almost as good. [_Knock at door._] A