Comes a flock of noble ladies,
Painted most, and all decolletees;
Come the Bishops and the Judges,
Gravely taking up their places;
Clad in their state robes, the Judges,
Like to agéd washerwoman;
In their puffed lawn sleeves, the Bishops,
Fussy, like the hen that cackles
Over new-laid egg or chicken;
Come diplomatists by dozens,