Nutts. Very true. After this fashion: “We are delighted to inform our enlightened public that the Marquis of Londonderry appeared yesterday in a bran-new patent paletot. He will wear it for the next fortnight, and then return to his usual blue for the season.”
Bleak. Here’s another bit. (Reads.) “Viscount”—well, never mind the name—“Viscount —— has gone on a visit to his noble relatives, where the Viscountess is expected to join his Lordship at the expiration of her duties as lady-in-waiting to the Queen.”
Nosebag. I never could make that out, how ladies, with husbands and families, could go and be ladies’-maids and chambermaids even to a queen.
Nutts. Easily accounted for, bless you! It’s all their humbleness. They go to know what service really is, that they may be all the kinder and gentler to their own ladies’-maids and chambermaids at home.
Slowgoe. So the Spanish match is going on.
Nutts. And real match it will be too, with brimstone at both ends.
Slowgoe. I see the Duke Montpensier leaves Paris on the 27th, his baggage-waggon’s gone before him.
Nutts. Wonder what artillery he’ll take, for there never was a marriage that will smell so much of gunpowder. Daresay they’ll marry him in a hollow square of soldiers, with charged bayonets; and, moreover, that he’ll have a suit of armour under his marriage clothes, and cannon with lighted fusees at the church door.
Tickle. The Spanish Parliament, I see, has addressed the Queen, and wished her joy. And the Queen says (reads), “I receive with profound emotion the felicitations which you address to me on the occasion of my marriage with my august cousin, and that of my dear sister with the noble (esclareido) Duke de Montpensier. I have not only consulted my own domestic happiness, but also the welfare and prosperity of the nation.”
Nutts. (After a long whistle.) I wonder what would come of state affairs, if it wasn’t for the lying that holds ’em together! Why, lies to some governments seem like mortar to houses of bricks; couldn’t, it seems, stand at all without ’em. Consulted her own domestic happiness! poor soul! Consulted her parrot, perhaps.