How that amused her. “Such propriety!” she said.

“Such folly,” I wanted to say.

This is high class prostitution commonly called “purse penury,” our coldest-oldest art. The art is especially susceptible to jewels and the brazenness of crowns. Men have been hung for their inability to kowtow, with poverty in the wings, snivelling or prancing jubilantly.

King James—

Now that you are our new friend, sceptering this Brittic island with careful gaze, ours is the homage! We see that your awareness is aware of considerations, a King James version of Sleeves and Ruff duly pressed. You surely press prom­ises without guilt for gilt. Through narrow lozenged glass the sun administers your ceremonials.

Oh, king, your uniqueness Towers over us: you are our stiller of war, our buffer of hate, our unbiased protestant.

You rise—and London rises.

You walk—and London walks, for we are your guardians.

If your latest diamond is somewhat small, speak to us and it will be remem­bered in moors, fens, and locks. If your crown, coming from a woman’s head, needs adjusting our adjusters are sure hands, toward continuity.