[40] Parliament is ordinarily dissolved by Proclamation, after having been previously prorogued. However, there is at least one modern instance to justify the historical consistency of the text, namely, that which occurred on the 10th June, 1818, when the Prince Regent, afterwards George IV., dissolved the Parliament in person. The Dramatist cannot therefore be properly accused of drawing heedlessly upon his imagination, though even had he thus far transgressed the boundaries of historical truth, Horace’s maxim might have been pleaded in excuse:—
“Pictoribus atque Poetis
Quidlibet audendi semper fuit æqua potestas.”
Smooth. I believe that he has left science; at least, he wishes it to be so considered. He is my colleague at Shoreditch; and, of course, I wish to support him;—but,—when business is to be done;—and men,—and things, to be brought together,—I own,—I doubt—whether a more practical man,—might not——
Shift. And that poor Turnstile certainly is not. He must always have a reason;—nothing but the quod erat demonstrandum; a romancer; if you have anything to do, his first object is to do it well. I am quite sure he will not answer our purpose.
Closewind. He talks too much about consistency; and on party questions, you are never sure of him: last week he did not divide with us, on either night.
Lord A. Well; I am quite indifferent. I did hear of his being at Lord Flumm’s; and after what had just passed in the Lords, a personal friend of mine would, perhaps, have kept away from that quarter. Is there no other person?
Smooth. (Hesitatingly.) Davies Gilbert.
Shift. (Laughing.) Pooh! Pooh! Poor Gilbert! No, that will never do.
Smooth. Or—Warburton?