the head. He might almost have seen an advance copy of the Honours List.
TRANTO. He hadn't. Nor had I. Who's in it?
CULVER. You might ask who isn't in it. ( Taking a paper from his pocket .) Well, Gentletie's in it. He gets a knighthood.
TRANTO. Never heard of him. Who is he?
HILDEGARDE. Oh, yes, you've heard of him. (John glances at her severely .) He's M.P. for some earthly paradise or other in the South Riding.
TRANTO. Oh!
CULVER. Perhaps I might read you something written by my private secretary—he's one of these literary wags. You see there's been a demand that the Government should state clearly, in every case of an Honour, exactly what services the Honour is given for. This ( taking paper from his pocket ) is supposed to be the stuff sent round to the Press by the Press Bureau. ( Reads .) 'Mr. Gentletie has gradually made a solid reputation for himself as the dullest man in the House of Commons. Whenever he rises to his feet the House empties as if by magic. In cases of inconvenience, when the Government wishes abruptly to close a debate by counting out the House, it
has invariably put up Mr. Gentletie to speak. The device has never been known to fail. Nobody can doubt that Mr. Gentletie's patriotic devotion to the Allied cause well merits the knighthood which is now bestowed on him.'
JOHN ( astounded .) Stay me with flagons!
TRANTO. So that's that! And who else?