Punch (67.1874)

December 26 lh'74.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

iii

IT was the mid of night: “ Twelve ” clashed from the great bell of St. Paul’s. Almost at the same moment—allowing for
the difference of longitude—“ Twenty-four ” clanged from the great bell of St. Peter’s. Two venerable forms sat on the
oblatest part of the terrestrial spheroid, listening.

“ Urbi! ” shrilled Papa Punch, as the last boom of St. Paul’s died away.

“ Orbi! ” sighed Papa Pius, as if in unison with the dying thrill of St. Peter’s.

Then, suddenly turning on their respective axes, they surveyed each other—these two INFALLTBLES !

“ That’8 ‘ urbi et orbi’ between us,” remarked Papa Punch, blandly.

“ I do not divide my Empire,” grumbled Papa Pius, edging away from his companion.

“ Why not ? ” said Papa Punch, cheerfully. “ The world has seen two Popes sharing St. Peter’s Chair between ’em
before this. But where Clement and Urban fought, let Punch and Pius fraternise.”

“ Apage, Sathanas . . . Excommunico te—Anathema-” But the hand of Papa Punch was already on the lips

of Papa Pius.

“ Connu, monvieux. . . . * It won’t go off ! ’—you know. Keep your breath to cool your pasta. Cursing is the worst
use the wind of man can be put to. Suppose we reasoned ?”

“ Cursing is in my line. Reasoning isn’t,” angrily retorted Papa Pius. “ Sum Pater infallibilis,” he went on, “ et
sum super ratiocinationemand he closed his eyes, folded his hands over his abdomen, and smiled to himself with an air of
ineffable self-satisfaction.

“ But when there are two Infallibles, my dear Pius, I really don’t see how our respective claims are to be settled.
Unless, indeed,” added Papa Punch, with a flash of happy inspiration, “ you liked to toss for it.”

“ Agreed! ” said Papa Pius, eagerly, whipping out a penny.

“ One of Peter's ? ” asked Papa Punch, winking interrogatively towards the coin.

“ I believe you, my boy,” replied Papa Pius, winking back. “ There’s more where that came from. Here goes!—
‘ heads I win, tails you lose,’ ”—and he prepared to spin the consecrated coin.

“ 0 fie, Papa,” good-humouredly remonstrated Papa Punch. “ Not if I know it.”

“ That ’8 our Roman game,” said Papa Pius, pausing in act to spin, with an air of injured innocence. ‘ Quod
semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus—you know.”

“ Yes, I know. So suppose, instead of tossing, we split our difference—divide the world between us ? ”

“ * Divide et impera,’ you mean, of course ? ” was Papa Pius’s more complacent rejoinder. “ An excellent principle,
and one those dear Fathers of the Congregation understand to perfection, as they may show your Bismarcks and ycur
Gladstones one of these days.”

“ * Divide et impera ’ be it. The old women of both sexes, and the Priests in both Churches fall to you by a process of
natural selection, and 1 ’ll throw you in all the dilettante who want Churches turned into playhouses, ‘ with appropriate
music, dresses, and decorations,’ and all who would rather not call their souls their own, but prefer to have their faiths
fixed, and their minds made up for them. Then you may have all who have never read history, or seen through pious
fiction ; all who’ve forgotten there ever was such a thing as an Inquisition in Spain, or faggots in Smithfield.”