Nosebag. Bless you! in the matter of money, who’d trust to bricks and mortar? But we’ll say the palace is built without a shilling from the people—we’ll say it’s built. How about the furniture? Why, afore the thing’s well up, the Minister will come down to the House and ask for about half a million of money to buy rolling-pins and tinder-boxes.
Slowgoe. But he won’t get it.
Tickle. Won’t he? Every farden on it; while all the House, and the Speaker into the bargain, will weep with pleasure while they put their hands in their pockets.
Slowgoe. And what will Mr Hume be about?
Tickle. He’ll oppose it, o’ course; and so will Mr Wakley and Mr Williams. And what o’ that? Why, the Minister will draw himself up upon his toes, and, looking as tragic as if they’d killed his dearest relations, ask the honourable members if they know what they’re opposin’. Put it to ’em as men, whether her Majesty ever before asked a single farden for rolling-pins—whether above all sovereigns that ever went afore her—or that’ll come after her—she hasn’t been most scrupulous, most ekonomick in the article of tinder-boxes? He will ask what surrounding nations will think of us—higgling about rolling-pins—disputing on royal tinder-boxes; and then the House will get up, and hurray—and, as I say, weeping tears of gratitude, vote the money, as though with all their hearts and our pockets they wished it twice as much.
Slowgoe. Ha! you’re a cuss-of-liberty man, you are, Mr Tickle, and don’t know what befits the royal prerogative. They won’t want a shilling, sir—not a shilling. There’s the Pavilion at Brighton. I understand that the loyal people of that loyal town, out of love, and affection, and veneration for their monarch as a king, a man, a husband, a father, and—let me see—yes, a practical moralist, intend to purchase the Pavilion, and let it off in shops for jewellers, wig-makers, and tailors, and all as a monument to the memory of that great and good man George the Fourth.
Tickle. Well, to make the monument complete, I hope they won’t forget a wine and brandy vaults.
Nutts. But how about the Duke’s statue? I thought it was to be put up upon the gate, that the Queen might see it when she drove out. Now, if the Queen has a new house on Buckbeen Hill——
Tickle. Why, all the houses ’tween that and Rutland Gate will be pulled down, that the statue may be brought near to the new palace with a telescope.
Slowgoe. I’m very happy to see that her Majesty, and the Prince, and the children are taking such pleasure on the sea.