SECOND LORD
There is much beside. I’d lay a guinea there will be war between
Russia and France before another year has flown.
FIRST LORD
Prinny looks a little worried to-night.
SECOND LORD
Yes. The Queen don’t like the fete being held, considering the
King’s condition. She and her friends say it should have been put
off altogether. But the Princess of Wales is not troubled that way.
Though she was not asked herself she went wildly off and bought her
people new gowns to come in. Poor maladroit woman!....
[Another new dance of the year is started, and another long line
of couples begin to foot it.]
That’s a pretty thing they are doing now. What d’ye call it?
FIRST LORD
“Speed the Plough.” It is just out. They are having it everywhere.
The next is to be one of those foreign things in three-eight time
they call Waltzes. I question if anybody is up to dancing ’em here
yet.
[“Speed the Plough” is danced to its conclusion, and the band
strikes up “The Copenhagen Waltz.”]
SPIRIT IRONIC
Now for the wives. They both were tearing hither,
Unless reflection sped them back again;
But dignity that nothing else may bend
Succumbs to woman’s curiosity,
So deem them here. Messengers, call them nigh!
[The PRINCE REGENT, having gone the round of the other rooms, now
appears at the ball-room door, and stands looking at the dancers.
Suddenly he turns, and gazes about with a ruffled face. He sees
a tall, red-faced man near him—LORD MOIRA, one of his friends.]
PRINCE REGENT
Damned hot here, Moira. Hottest of all for me!
MOIRA
Yes, it is warm, sir. Hence I do not dance.
PRINCE REGENT
H’m. What I meant was of another order;
I spoke figuratively.
MOIRA
O indeed, sir?
PRINCE REGENT
She’s here. I heard her voice. I’ll swear I did!