aise my curiosity;--proceed.

Land. Well, then, about four years ago, old Melnotte died, and left his
son well to do in the world. We then all observed that a great change
came over young Claude: he took to reading and Latin, and hired a
professor from Lyons, who had so much in his head that he was forced to
wear a great full-bottom wig to cover it. Then he took a fencing-master,
and a dancing-master, and a music-master; and then he learned to paint;
and at last it was said that young Claude was to go to Paris, and set
up for a painter. The lads laughed at him at first; but he is a stout
fellow, is Claude, and as brave as a lion, and soon taught them to laugh
the wrong side of their mouths; and now all the boys swear by him, and
all the girls pray for him.

Beau. A promising youth, certainly! And why do they call him Prince?

Land. Partly because he is at the head of them all, and partly because
he has such a proud way with him, and wears such fine clothes--and, in
short, looks like a prince.

Beau. And what could have turned the foolish fellow's brain? The
Revolution, I suppose?

Land. Yes--the revolution that turns us all topsy-turvy--the revolution
of Love.

Beau. Romantic young Corydon! And with whom is he in love?

Land. Why--but it is a secret, gentlemen.

Beau. Oh! certainly.

Land. Why, then, I hear from his mother, good soul! that it is no less a
person than the Beauty of Lyons, Pauline Deschappelles.

Beau. and Glavis. Ha, ha!--Capital!

Land. You may laugh, but it is as true as I stand here.

Beau. And what does the Beauty of Lyons say to his suit?

Land. Lord, sir, she never even condescended to look at him, though when
he was a boy he worked in her father's garden.

Beau. Are you sure of that?

Land. His mother says that Mademoiselle does not know him by sight.

Beau. [taking Glavis aside]. I have hit it,--I have it; here is our
revenge! Here is a prince for our haughty damsel. Do you take me?

Gla. Deuce take me if I do!

Beau. Blockhead!--it's as clear as a map. What if we could make this
elegant clown pass himself off as a foreign prince?--lend him money,
clothes, equipage for the purpose?--make him propose to Pauline?--marry
Pauline? Would it not be delicious?

Gla. Ha, ha!--Excellent! But how shall we support the necessary expenses
of his highness?

Beau. Pshaw! Revenge is worth a much larger sacrifice than a few hundred
louis;--as for details, my valet is the trustiest fellow,