The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 305: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—_—- 290 a THE MYSTERIES. of, Mrs. Meagles? Come—answer me. Misfortune, indeed !” And his Majesty sank back again into the arm- chair. “I meant to observe, may it please you, sire,” continued the huntress, after darting a sly glance at Tim Meagles, who enjoyed the whole scene un- commonly,—“ 1 meant to observe that it was a great misfortune for both parties :—for the young lady, because she belongs to a family connected with the peerage—and for his Royal Highness, be- cause he must take some immediate step to hush the matter up.” “ And for this purpose he has sent you both to me,” exclaimed the King, once more leaping from his seat, and now flying into a passion. “ Upon my word—a pretty misfortune, truly—seductions right and left come to my knowledge—and the hero—always George Prmce of Wales! Pretty misfortune, indeed! Young lady connected with the peerage! Whois she, madam ?” he demanded, turning abruptly round upon the Amazon as if he were about to snap her head off. “Her name is Oetavia Clarendon, may it please your Majesty,” was the response: “her father is’ | mess the Prince of Wales wil] not fall alone. If he distantly related te the Lord Marchmont.” “Ah! the Lord Marchmont —good Tory— staunch supporter—pillar of the throne!” ejacu- lated the King: then growing considerably calmer, he shook his bead, saying. “ This affair must ine deed be looked into. Won't do to offend a man like Lord Marebmont—always votes in favour of Ministerial measures. Lord Marehmont — good Tory—would yote black’s white, or white’s black, to please me. Ah! he is a true aristocrat—a staunch noble —- Lord Marehmont! Well Mrs. Meagles—I suppose that as yet this misfortune has been hushed up?” answered Lady Lade. “ And what de you propose?—what do you sug-_ gest?—what do you require me to do?” demanded the King, resuming his seat. ' “To confer the honour of a peerage, with an accompanying pension, upon Mr. Clarendon, the father of this young lady whom the Prinee has seduced,” was the response. “ Never!” ejaculated George III, his puffy cheeks becoming purple with rage: and, bounding from his chair, he stood for a few moments gazing fero- ciously upon the Amazon, but unable to utter another word. “ No—never!” he at length ex- claimed. “Jam not to be persuaded into such a course as this. What! dishonour the peerage by selling it, as it were, for a girl’s beauty! Upon my word, Mrs. Beagles—no, Meagles—I beg your par- don—Mrs. Meagles—I am suyprised that you and your husband should have had the audacity to seek my presence for such a purpose. Our interview is at an end—the audience is closed.” And the King, turning abruptly away, was ad- vancing towards the door of an inner room, when Tim Meagles exclaimed, “One word, may it please your Majesty |” “ Qne word?” repeated the King, stopping short. “ What for, sir?—what more can you or your wife have to say to me? One word, indeed — one word !” _“Yes—one word,” exclaimed Meagles, empha- ‘| tically: “for your Majesty does not appear to be fully aware of the seriousness—the extreme se- rilousness——” “The seriousness of what, sir?” demanded the King, now turning completely round and retracing his steps towards his importunate visitors : “ the seriousness of what, sir—of what?” he reiterated nervously. “Of his Royal Highness’s position,” answered Meagles, in a firm and resolute manner. “Tt is not I who have placed him in it,” exclaimed his Majesty: “he bas done it all himself—all him- self. You may retire, Mr. Meagles—Meagles—you may retire: any further colloguy will be useless— quite useless.” ** Nay—then your Majesty will drive his Royal ilighness to extremes,” said Tim; “and the un- pleasant effects of this affair will not be experienced by bim alone.” “What do you mean, sir?” inguired the King, struck by the mingied singularity and audacity of an observation the covert menace of which was unmis- takable: “what do you mean? Speak—sir: what do you mean?” he repeated petulantly, “ mean, sire,” responded Tim Meagles, looking the monareb full in the face, that his Royal High- sink beneath the weight of infamy and shame, he will drag down others with him—yes—even though it be his own jather. And that is God’s truth |” George III sank upon a chair, gasping for breath. Was it possible that he had heard aright ?—or had his ears deceived him? He elosed bis eyes for a few moments, the more easily to commune with himself by shutting out all exterior objects from his view: and this brief but painful interval of reflection con- vineed him that it was no delusion—that his ears had not misled hin—and that a threat, darkly intelligible, ) ; | had been uttered by the daring naan who still stood “Such is the case, may it please your Majesty,” | in his presence. Then all the vindictive blood of the Guelphs rushed to his countenance—tingisg even the whites of his eyes and making the orbs themselves seem ready to start out of his head : and, springing from his chair, he threw a furious look upon Meagles, exclaiming, “7 understand you, sir—I understand you! Mvy son has made you the instrument and agent of his own vile undutifulness; and you are base enough to lend yourself to his parricide intentions. But you may return to him, sir—you may return to him— and tell him that I defy his menaces. Yes—I—his father—I—the King—scorn and laugh at this silly attem pt—to—to——” “Your Majesty should know that hard words do not break bones,” interrupted Tim Meagles, in a tone and manner so full of easy defiance that the King was perfectly stagcered. “Your Majesty has thought fit to couple my name in an injurious fashion with that of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales: but I am tough enough to bear all your Majesty has just said—and a great deal more.” “This to me, sir!” ejaculated George III, now literally foaming with rage. “Begone!”’—and he extended his hand towards the bell-pull. “One word !—only one word more!” cried Meagles. “Does your Majesty really wish that a certain cer- tificate should be published to the world——” “JT care not!” exclaimed the King, still holding the bell-pull. “As my scapegrace son’s boon companion, you are of course in the secret respecting that frag- ment of a document——” - SSS ‘\ COMIC OOo S(O)