THE LORDS.
To the gilded, painted chamber
Of the House of Talkee-Talkee,
Comes a crowd of various people,
Comes a flock of noble ladies,
Painted most, and all decolletees;
Come the Bishops and the Judges,
Gravely taking up their places;
Clad in their state robes, the Judges,
Like to agéd washerwoman;
In their puffed lawn sleeves, the Bishops,
Fussy, like the hen that cackles
Over new-laid egg or chicken;
Come diplomatists by dozens,
Blazing with their numerous orders,
Which they gladly take, like bagmen;
Come with their vermilion buttons
And their petticoats of satin,
Wond'ring much, the Chinese Envoys:—
Wond'ring why it is the ladies
Care to sit squeezed up like herrings?
How it is their faces glow so
With the ruddy hues of nature?
Wond'ring why it is the nobles
Moon about with hideous cloaks on,
Making them appear round-shouldered,
Mute-like, "Jarvie-ish," ungainly?
Why it is Lord Coleridge carries
'Neath the folds of his the head-gear
Known in slang phrase as a "stove-pipe!"
Why in swallow-tail of evening
Mr. Pierrepoint walks at noon-day?
Why the Primate greets profusely
Fezzed Musurus when he enters?
Why the latter comes to gaze on
These ill-fated dogs of Christians
That his former masters cheated?
And their wonderment continues
As they hear the charivari,
See the entrances and exits,
Watch staid men in green and silver,
Rushing here and running thither.
Others, clad in velvet small-clothes,
Pottering in among the benches,
Nought effecting but confusion.
* * * *
Entered are at last the household,
And the Queen comes through the doorway,
Sits she in her dress of velvet
On the throne, and all is silent.
Only for a minute's space though,
For, from down a distant lobby,
Comes the sound of pattering footsteps,
Like the rush of many waters,
By the shore of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big Sea Water.
Nearer, nearer, comes the pattering,
Louder, louder grow the voices,
More pronounced the hurried scuffling.
Now it seems as though the sound wave
Rolled close to the chamber's portal,
And, 'midst loud complaints and laughter,
Plainly heard by all who sat there,
Comes unto the bar the Speaker;
At his heels are Stafford Northcote,
And Ward Hunt, the Tory giant,
After them the deluge! Members
Fight and push, and pull and scuffle;
Loudly wrangle for their places,
And protest with scanty measure
Of politeness or good breeding;
Whilst their premier, safe translated,
Smiles a smile that's cold and selfish.
But at length the Commons settle
Into order as behoves them.
And the Chancellor upstanding
Mounts the throne's wide steps, and kneeling
To his sovereign he offers
Her own speech, which she declining,
He unrolls, and then distinctly
With a voice and tone majestic
(Picked up in his constant practice),
Read it in this way and this wise:—
"Listen to these words of wisdom
Sounding much but meaning little,
That with much elaborate caution,
In the Cabinet we hit on.
Oh, my faithful Lords and Commons,
As it is so far from likely
That you read the daily journals,
As it is so very certain
You've heard nothing that has happened,
I will tell you what you cannot
By remotest chance have heard of:
Know ye then, my trusted children,
There has been a war in Turkey,
And my Ministers have written
Some despatches on the subject;
So if, later on, my Commons
Should find out the vote for foolscap
And for ink and quills is swollen,
They will know the cause and pass it;
But let me haste on to tell you
In thrice twenty lines the items
That for weeks have been known fully
Through the papers to the people.
Know ye then, my Lords and Commons
(This is likewise news important,
I have journeyed far to tell you),
We joined Europe in a Conference,
And we sent our trusty cousin,
Robert Cecil, Salisbury's Marquis,
To take part in its discussions?
Know ye not that Robert Cecil,
Lordly master he of Hatfield,
Went and saw, but did not conquer—
Went and talked, but did not manage
Well his coaxing or his bluster;
Nay, came back completely vanquished,
And must do without his dukedom?
Need I add, my knowing children,
How his failure grieved his colleagues—
How Lord Derby wept to hear it—
How Lord Beaconsfield has felt it?
Still bewails it much in private,
And in public should his lips curl,
That is merely force of habit.
Know ye too, my legislators,
My most able statute-makers,
That my Indian subjects vastly
Liked the squibs let off at Delhi,
By my dreamy poet-Viceroy;
And, about to die of famine,
They enjoyed the show immensely.
All the Colonies are prosp'rous!
Which, if I am not mistaken,
Will be news to many of them,
Say, for instance, to Barbadoes.
Gentlemen, who pull the purse-strings,
I presume you will, as usual,
Vote sufficient of the needful.
Go, then, and in these great labours
May the spirit of the Master,
Gitche Manito, the Mighty
Aid you, lest they should o'erwhelm you."
Then uprose the Queen, and vanished,
And a hubbub fills the Chamber:
Peers take off their robes of velvet;
Ladies cover up their shoulders,
And the throng is quickly scattered;
Yet was very full the chamber—
Full of Lords, and full of strangers,
All come down, and feeling curious
How the Earl and eke the Marquis
Would get on when brought together;
Some there were who thought the Marquis
Would upon the Earl his back turn;
Some who thought the Earl would curl his
Upper lip, and snub the Marquis;
Others that the Marquis, smarting
With the knowledge that he'd been offered
Coolly on the Eastern altar,
That he had been made a victim;
Had been sent to wreck his prestige,
'Mongst the diplomatic breakers,
Would dig up the buried hatchet
From the Quarterly's shut pages,
Would dash down the friendly peace-pipe,
And his tomahawk turn wildly
On his former foe, Ben Dizzy;
But it did not come to pass so,
For on Thursday all was quiet,
And the Salisburian lion
Lay down with the Dizzian lambkin.
And the Marquis keeps his vengeance
For a more convenient season,
If, indeed, he has not hopes still
Of a dukedom for his failure.
After this they talked for four hours,
But the talk meant simply nothing!