Punch: Punch (6.1844)

354

RUSSIA AND RUSSIA'S BEAR.

otiiTLESs it is known that the Emperor of Russia.
visited the Zoological Gardens in the Park. It

is equally well known that he has an extra- ! uiously bestow upon the wretch a pair of garters

Emperor. Not at all—it all makes for my game. I shall talk to the
Lady Patronesses, and offer to give them any money for their very bene-
volent purpose. And then I shall be praised for my forbearance—my
humanity.

Bear. Very likely. Just as if a man, who had set fire to his neigh-
bour's house—killed his wife and children—stolen his goods, and left him
naked in the highway,—should, touched by sudden humanity, magnaui-

ordinary memory ef persons whom he has once ; Emperor Exactly.

. _, , ,. , . . Bear. JNevertheless, there is this untoward matter to get over. You

Ben. Thus, the Emperor, looking down into j ta]k about going amongst the iady aristocracy of England-the lovely,
the bear's pit, immediately recognised a brown the refined, the tender. How will you get out of that very black business
bear that, in its cubhood, he had seen at St. Pe- ; —the flogging of Polish women ?

ten burgh: and, strange to add, the bear as ! Emperor. Nothing more easy. I shall bow and smile at the Opera,
dily knew the Emperor. Hastily climbing to i And here ended the talk between Nicholas and die Bear.

rea

the top of the pole, the sagacious ber.st began to
:growl the very purest Russian, and was answered in its native sounds
by Nicholas. The following may be depended upon as a faithful
translation of the colloquy :—

jpnu gins.

The Prince de Joinville__West, Theatrical Print-Seller, London.

Bear. Bless my heart ! What, Nicholas ! Is it really you ?
Emperor. What,—you remember me ?

Bear. Remember you ! What bear, with a liking for blood, could ever
"forget you \ Ha, sire ! this, after all, is a sorry country.
Emperor. Why, you look sleek and fat.

Bear. But what fat ! I've very little of my natural victuals. All my
/Russian courage is taken out of me with buns and biscuits, that short
•commons of flesh compels me to eat ; buns and biscuits from the hands of
girls and babies, and that, too, when my mouth waters for one of them.
Ha, how I could relish even a hard old Pole !

Emperor {with a dim smile). I think you have one.

Bear (with a knowing wink). Pooh! you know what I mean. But
'now, to talk of yourself. Ar'n't you afraid to shew your nose in England ? j
Those rascally newspapers ! And then that scoundrel, Punch ! They
•blab everything. 'Twaa only yesterday that I saw a sweet little boy in a
white frock and red shoes : I know I could have dined upon him—for the
•nursery-maid was giggling with a Life Guardsman — but then, again, I
iknew the rumpus there'd have been. First, that Wakley, and then an
iinquest, and then a bullet through my body ; and so these rascally
English would not only have had my blood upon their heads, but my
grease too. And so, thinking of all this, with tears in my eyes, I munched
a dry biscuit, and let the child—ha ! you should have seen its chubby legs ;
amongst all the babies you stole from Warsaw, there wasn't a fatter one
—and so, with a sigh. I let the child be.

Empt-ror (layiny his hand on his b-isom ). I can feel for you.

Bear. But to speak about youiself. Ar'n't you afraid to come where I
cthe newspapers have made your reputation so well known ?

Emperor (significdntly touching his pockets). Not in the least.

Bear. The folks here know all about your doings at Warsaw.

Emperor. What of that ? I shall give an order for a gold service—and
'buy some jewellery, too—at Stork and Mortimer's.

Bear. They know, too, of the Poles—whose patriotism was their guilt
— whom you have sent to Siberia !

Emperor. Very well. I shall subscribe five hundred pounds for a
yearly cup at Ascot, and the mob there will cheer me—and fling up their
caps—and want to hug me in their arms for the dearest, the sweetest, of;
emperors—a piece of legitimate anatomy, rilled with ichor ; with no stain,
no rank odour of blood upon me. 1 know John Bull ; he blusters well
•enough ; but he'd bear strokes with a lacquered, shining face, from the
knout itself, if it were only made of gold.

Bear. Nick, you know a thing or two.

•Emperor. And so, you see, I shall give some money for an annual piece
•of plate to be raced for. And after that to talk of the Poles ! Pooh !
•John Bull at sucli a time doats too much upon horse-flesh to think of the
•flesh of a few thousands of men, women, and children.

Bear. Nevertheless, your character is in such bad odour with these! This picture is interesting, less as a specimen of art, than as an lns'.orical
English-—- portrait, which will hand down the true character of the Prince de Join-

Emperor. Nonsense ! you are over-anxious for me. I know them. [ ville to posterity more faithfully than could be done by the pen of the
They abuse me when I'm at St. Petersburg!!, but they love rank too well! historian

■when it comes to them to question its little failings. If the Prince of
Darkness himself were to come as a Prince, there are plenty of people
there—high ones, too—to cheer him for his horns and tail.

Bear. Well, Nicholas, your reception will go far to test that fact.

Emperor. And then when John Bull would act meanly, inconsistently,
too can always lay his hand upon a pet virtue to cloak himself with. Thus,
he will feast me, and hurrah to me, and swear that he is only civil from
his excessive hospitality. But then John knows I'm rich—immensely
rich ; and with all his far-seeing, telescopic philosophy, he can see no spots
in a gold-ea sun; no, but Christian as he is, worships it like any Persian.
And then, because I'm "an■' ertiperor,' I shall' be feasted by Whigs and
Tories ; and meii who abuse me in Parliament, will, if I vouchsafe so
much, kiss my hand:—yes, my felon hand, branded by Lucifer with
« Poland."

Bear. I hope you may find it so. By the way, too, it happens very
unluckily that they're going to give a bail to the Poles..

This amiable Prince is represented in the costume of a French Corsair
—carrying out the principles of his own pamphlet, by that happy union of
fire and sword, bombs and bombast, which are so congenial to his happy
disposition. There is not the smallest doubt that the Prince looks at his
profession with the eye of an art:st—a dramatic artist we mean—and that
in talking of an action he would be prepared to go heart and soul into those
little bits of valour—such as bullying a prisoner, or knocking down a
defenceless marine—which, with a naval hornpipe thrown in to impart a
certain degree of lightness, may be regarded as the chief points in the
composition of a stage seaman.

The whole bearing of the portrait is valorous in the extreme. The
determined cocking °of the pistol and the eye at the same moment ; the
firmness of the position ; the unflinching sternness of the brow ; are all
truly characteristic when taken in conjunction with the fact that if the
Prince were to look round him in all directions he could not catcb »
glimpse of an enemy.