Punch (9.1845)

56

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE POLITICAL PAS DE QUATRE.

Scarcely anything can exceed the excitement occasioned by the appearance of four
rival dancers in the same Pas de Quatre, but a still greater sensation has been caused
by the bringing together of four political figurantes, all taking the came steps in a
Pas de Quatre of the most astounding character. The dance included a variety of
surprising groupings, in the course of which the performers threw themselves into
i the most difficult positions, and a variety of combinations occurred such as had never
before been heard of in the annals of political capering. Peel in the Maynooth
shuffle actually surpassed himself, at one moment taking a graceful slide from
one side to the other, then executing a rapid pirouette, and taking Russell as his
partner, giving him a sudden twist round with remarkable energy.

But perhaps the great wonder of the Pas de Quatre consisted in the variations
•of Brougham. He bounded about with a reckless wildness that took the House
by surprise, and excited a perfect tumult among the audience. He came out very
gracefully in the exquisite little solo hit called the Pas de Privilege, and exhibited
•a steadiness in this one particular movement which he is not always famous for. The
share taken by O'Connell was not the happiest part of the Pas de Quatre. His
advancing and retiring towards Peel was, perhaps, the best movement, but the small
variation, called the Pas de Repeal, was a dead failure. The concluding group in
which all the four political dancers threw themselves into one tableau of harmony, was
the crowning wonder of this great political Terpsichorean incident.

THE LOWLY BARD TO HIS LADY LOVE.

(Aie—" Oh, Nannie, wilt thou gang with me!")

<Ett£ gLntiquitm.

There is opposite the end of Chancery Lane, and just over the entrance of that
■repository of legal learning, disregarded genius, and attorney-generals that ought to
be—the Temple, a house now occupied as a hair-dresser's, but formerly, if we are to
believe the proprietor, the palace of Henry the Eighth and Cardinal Wolsey. We
were not aware that Wolsey and Henry the Eighth had apartments in the same
house, but it is possible that there may have been a little brass plate on the door-post
directing people to " Ring the top bell for the Cardinal." Henry the Eighth no

Oh lady, wilt thou wed with me,
And go and live at Camden Town ?

Can Hampstead Road have charms for thee !
Canst thou to College Place come down 1

Say, wilt thou quit, without a sigh,

doubt occupied the first floor, with the attics and the use of the front kitchen, which j T'he bright of Belgrave Square I

would have left the whole of the two-pair and the wash-house to his good Lord Cardinal.
There is no doubt that Wolsey and his Royal master carried on some rare games
when they lived in Fleet Street, and it is believed that the Mitre first took its name
from its having been the constant haunt of the Cardinal. There are some funny stories
still told by one of the old waiters at the Rainbow of how Harry used to order a cup
of sack, and joke Wolsey, who then held the great seal, about giving him the sack,
a jibe which the unhappy Chancellor was ultimately compelled to experience the
realisation of.

Wolsey, as we are told by the ingenious Pinnock, "sung, laughed, and danced with
every libertine of the court; " but we are not told in which of the many courts in the
neighbourhood the roystering Cardinal carried on his gambols. We presume that the
cardinal virtues are so called on the lucus a non lucendo principle, from no Cardinal
having any virtues at all, which at least was the case with Wolsey. He always wore
a large comforter round his neck, and it is believed that the word Linsey Wolsey had
its origin in this circumstance.

And canst thou, unrepining, fly
A two-pair-back with me to share ?

Oh wilt thou in the season, sweet,
Not sometimes weep for Rotten Row,

Where thou wast wont with Tom's elite
On summer afternoons to go \

And oh, from round the corner, when
Our maid-of-all-work brings the beer,

Wilt thou not oft remember then
Thy footman, Thomas, with a tear ?

When mem'ry paints the crimson plush,
And hat bedeck'd with golden braid,

Believ'st thou that thou wilt not blush
For slipshod Jane, our only maid I

Britannia metal canst thou stand,
Off silver who was wont to dine 1

The vintage of a foreign land

Canst thou exchange for ginger wine ?

And tell me, canst thou sit and ply
Thy bodkin, love, my desk beside ?

Then, soon as I a ring can buy,
I '11 ask thee to become my bride.

Buyer. " Is
Seller. " Lou bless ye

"WHAT'S THAT TO YOU?"

A most dangerous interrogative this to put to a police-
man, as the following short story may prove :—A young
man named Cottrell was brought to Clerkenwell Office
" as a suspected person." He was walking home with two
baskets in his hands, having been out fishing. Policeman
Anderson asked what was in them ? " What's that to
you ? " answered the hardened offender ; whereupon, he
was taken past his own door to the station-house, and
locked up. He was then brought before the wizard Green-
wood, who " discharged him." We therefore presume it
is lawful for any policeman to stop man, woman, or child, on
the way with a pie to the bakehouse, and ask, " What have
I you got there ? " and then, upon the refusal of the party to
lift off the crust, and show the fruit or steaks, as the case
may be, to carry the recusant straightway before Mr.
Greenwood, who, with that wisdom which daily endears
him to Sir James Graham, will " discharge" the trans-
gressor.