IMPERIAL PARLIAMENT.
As the coming session of Parliament is likely to be a busy one—for PUNCH—we have engaged some highly talented gentlemen expressly to report the fun in the House. The public will therefore have the benefit of all the senatorial brilliancy, combined with our own peculiar powers of description. Sibthorp—(scintillations fly from our pen as we trace the magic word)—shall, for one session at least, have justice done to his Sheridanic mind. Muntz shall be cut with a friendly hand, and Peter Borthwick feel that the days of his histrionic glories are returned, when his name, and that of “Avon’s swan,” figured daily in the “Stokum-cum-Pogis Gazette.” Let any member prove himself worthy of being associated with the brilliant names which ornament our pages, and be certain we will insure his immortality. We will now proceed to our report of
THE QUEEN’S SPEECH.
MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,
This morn at crow-cock,
Great Doctor Locock
Decided that her Majesty had better
Remain at home, for (as I read the letter)
He thought the opening speech
Would be “more honoured in the breach
Than the observance.” So here I am,
To read a royal speech without a flam.
Her Majesty continues to receive
From Foreign Powers good reasons to believe
That, for the universe, they would not tease her,
But do whate’er they could on earth to please her.
A striking fact,
That proves each act
Of us, the Cabinet, has been judicious,
Though of our conduct some folks are suspicious.
Her Majesty has also satisfaction
To state the July treaty did succeed
(Aided, no doubt, by Napier’s gallant action),
And that in peace the Sultan smokes his weed.
That France, because she was left out,
Did for a little while—now bounce—now pout,
Is in the best of humours, and will still
Lend us her Jullien, monarch of quadrille!
And as her Majesty’s a peaceful woman,
She hopes we shall get into rows with no man.
Her Majesty is also glad to say,
That as the Persian troops have march’d away,
Her Minister has orders to resume
His powers at Teheran, where he’s ta’en a room.
Her Majesty regrets that the Chinese
Are running up the prices of our teas:
But should the Emperor continue crusty,
Elliot’s to find out if his jacket’s dusty.
Her Majesty has also had the pleasure
(By using a conciliatory measure)
To settle Spain and Portugal’s division
About the Douro treaty’s true provision.
Her Majesty (she grieves to say) ’s contrived to get,
Like all her predecessors, into debt—
In Upper Canada, which, we suppose,
By this time is a fact the Council knows,
And what they think, or say, or write about it,
You’ll he advised of, and the Queen don’t doubt it,
But you’ll contrive to make the thing all square,
So leaves the matter to your loyal care.
GENTLEMEN OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS,
Her Majesty, I’m proud to say, relies
On you with confidence for the supplies;
And, as there’s much to pay, she begs to hint
She hopes sincerely you’ll not spare the Mint.
MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,
The public till,
I much regret to say, is looking ill;
For Canada and China, and the Whigs—no, no—
Some other prigs—have left the cash so-so:
But as our soldiers and our tars, brave lads,
Won’t shell out shells till we shell out the brads,
Her Majesty desires you’ll be so kind
As to devise some means to raise the wind,
Either by taxing more or taxing less,
Relieving or increasing our distress;
Or by increasing twopennies to quarterns,
Or keeping up the price which “Commons shortens;”
By making weavers’ wages high or low,
Or other means, but what we do not know.
But the one thing our royal mistress axes,
Is, that you’ll make the people pay their taxes.
The last request, I fear, will cause surprise—
Her Majesty requests you to be wise.
If you comply at once, the world will own
It is the greatest miracle e’er known.