Prince Michael. Clearly, this is not a solution.
Prince Florencio. [To Prince Michael] No, my dear uncle, not while you are still young. You may be Regent yet, as you would have been with me; the weight of the empire would have fallen upon your shoulders, and you would have inherited it in the end. My imperial career would have been short.
Etelvina. Who knows? Life then would have had an object for you—it would have acquired meaning. However, if you are satisfied
Prince Florencio. Absolutely. And you? Do you recall Daudet's "Rois en exile": "Do you love me less now that I am not to be king?"
Etelvina. Ungrateful, foolish boy! If you are happy, it is all that I desire.
Lady Seymour. A curious coincidence! Edith was playing the national air of your lost empire.
Prince Florencio. Yes, upon the lute. How depressing! To do it justice, the theme requires drums and trumpets against a background of flashing swords and shining armor I am told that all the fighting spirit of our country has been put into it, although it was composed by a monk who was a foreigner, for the funeral of some poet.
Duke. A preposterous fabrication.
Lady Seymour. A monk, did you say, and a poet? The combination is amusing.
Leonardo. Tennyson might have composed an occasional poem.
Lady Seymour. Tennyson was an exceptional poet. He was a gentleman, received in the best society.
Harry Lucenti. [To Leonardo] Lady Seymour is jealous of me. She will not pardon the Prince my invitation.
Leonardo. You are the scandal of England.
