ACT TWO.
The House of Commons. Very full. Cries of "Order, order!" Clamour increases, and no one can be heard. Fifty Members on their legs, trying to speak. Lord John Russell springs upon the table and gesticulates violently; but all that can be heard from him, is "Obleege," and "Constitution." Mr. Disraeli dashes his hand furiously upon the Green Box, which gives way, and all his oranges roll out. Scramble and comic business. Lord Namby Macpamby rises; dressed in the extreme of fashion, and also extremely tipsy. Terrific cries of "Spoke, spoke!" The Chairman of Committees falls on his knees and pleads for silence, but sinks beneath the volley of blue books, votes, and bills, instantly hurled at him from all the Members. Suddenly the Speaker rushes in, seizes the mace, and lays about him on every side. Members are knocked over one another. Tremendous confusion! Fights!—and Curtain.
ACT THREE.
The Editor's Ante-Chamber. Several of the Ministers waiting to see him; some with glittering stars, blue ribbons, &c. A door opens (centre), and an eminent Stockjobber is kicked into the middle of the scene, and falls—a huge bag of sovereigns in each hand. Bags burst, and the gold strews the stage. "I offered £500,000 for leave to put in one article." Proud tribute to the British Press. Porters sweep up the gold, and throw it out at window, and the Stockjobber after it. Enter Lord Asterisk dragging the beautiful lady. "Ha! you here, my lords! But 'tis well. She appealed to the "Times" and I have brought her hither." Lady on her knees—back hair down. "I am innocent—indeed I am innocent." "I am not to be juped, Madam." "I swear it." "I believe you not. Your adorers, in disguise, have been staining the pure streets of our proud Metropolis with ruffianism. But in vain, Madam." "In vain! Wretched me!" "Now by all that is sulphureous"—(he draws the sword usually worn by the British aristocrat)—"HOLD!!!" Awful appearance of the Editor. "Mistaken nobleman! She came but to save her Brother, Lord Namby Macpamby. He has spoken in the House to-night, and knowing what a dreadful fool he is, she wished his speech suppressed, that your brother-in-law's idiotcy might not be published all over the world." "Her brother! And those Guardsmen!" "Her cousins." "Ow! ow! ow! Can you forgive me, Coronettina?" "Am I not your wife, dearest?" The Editor, moved, tears up Lord Namby Macpamby's speech. "One husk will not be missed amid so much chaff."
Affecting Denouement!
"Off with his Head!"
LESSON FOR INNOCENT CABMEN.
Sing a song of Sixpence,