Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush
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第52章 CHAPTER X(10)

3. That Lord H. is going to be married; but there's some thing rong in his wife's blood.

4. Miss Long has cut Mr. Wellesley, and is gone after two Irish lords.

Wooden you phancy, now, that the author of such a letter, instead of writin about pipple of tip-top qualaty, was describin Vinegar Yard? Would you beleave that the lady he was a-ritin to was a chased, modist lady of honor, and mother of a famly? O trumpery!

O morris! as Homer says: this is a higeous pictur of manners, such as I weap to think of, as evry morl man must weap.

The above is one pritty pictur of mearly fashnabble life: what follows is about families even higher situated than the most fashnabble. Here we have the princessregient, her daughter the Princess Sharlot, her grandmamma the old quean, and her madjisty's daughters the two princesses. If this is not high life, I don't know where it is to be found; and it's pleasing to see what affeckshn and harmny rains in such an exolted spear.

"Sunday 24th.--Yesterday, the princess went to meet the Princess Charlotte at Kensington. Lady ---- told me that, when the latter arrived, she rushed up to her mother, and said, 'For God's sake, be civil to her,' meaning the Duchess of Leeds, who followed her.

Lady ---- said she felt sorry for the latter; but when the Princess of Wales talked to her, she soon became so free and easy, that one could not have any FEELING about her FEELINGS. Princess Charlotte, I was told, was looking handsome, very pale, but her head more becomingly dressed,--that is to say, less dressed than usual. Her figure is of that full round shape which is now in its prime; but she disfigures herself by wearing her bodice so short, that she literally has no waist. Her feet are very pretty; and so are her hands and arms, and her ears, and the shape of her head. Her countenance is expressive, when she allows her passions to play upon it; and I never saw any face, with so little shade, express so many powerful and varied emotions. Lady ---- told me that the Princess Charlotte talked to her about her situation, and said, in a very quiet, but determined way, she WOULD NOT BEAR IT, and that as soon as parliament met, she intended to come to Warwick House, and remain there; that she was also determined not to consider the Duchess of Leeds as her GOVERNESS but only as her FIRST LADY. She made many observations on other persons and subjects; and appears to be very quick, very penetrating, but imperious and wilful.

There is a tone of romance, too, in her character, which will only serve to mislead her.

"She told her mother that there had been a great battle at Windsor between the queen and the prince, the former refusing to give up Miss Knight from her own person to attend on Princess Charlotte as sub-governess. But the prince-regent had gone to Windsor himself, and insisted on her doing so; and the 'old Beguin' was forced to submit, but has been ill ever since: and Sir Henry Halford declared it was a complete breaking up of her constitution--to the great delight of the two princesses, who were talking about this affair.

Miss Knight was the very person they wished to have; they think they can do as they like with her. It has been ordered that the Princess Charlotte should not see her mother alone for a single moment; but the latter went into her room, stuffed a pair of large shoes full of papers, and having given them to her daughter, she went home. Lady ---- told me everything was written down and sent to Mr. Brougham NEXT DAY."

See what discord will creap even into the best regulated famlies.

Here are six of 'em--viz., the quean and her two daughters, her son, and his wife and daughter; and the manner in which they hate one another is a compleat puzzle.

{his mother.

The Prince hates . . . {his wife.

{his daughter.

Princess Charlotte hates her father.

Princess of Wales hates her husband.

The old quean, by their squobbles, is on the pint of death; and her two jewtiful daughters are delighted at the news. What a happy, fashnabble, Christian famly! O Mr. Yorke, Mr. Yorke, if this is the way in the drawin-rooms, I'm quite content to live below, in pease and charaty with all men; writin, as I am now, in my pantry, or els havin a quiet game at cards in the servants-all. With US there's no bitter, wicked, quarling of this sort. WE don't hate our children, or bully our mothers, or wish 'em ded when they're sick, as this Dairywoman says kings and queens do. When we're writing to our friends or sweethearts, WE don't fill our letters with nasty stoaries, takin away the carricter of our fellow- servants, as this maid of honor's amusin' moral frend does. But, in coarse, it's not for us to judge of our betters;--these great people are a supeerur race, and we can't comprehend their ways.

Do you recklect--it's twenty years ago now--how a bewtiffle princess died in givin buth to a poar baby, and how the whole nation of Hengland wep, as though it was one man, over that sweet woman and child, in which were sentered the hopes of every one of us, and of which each was as proud as of his own wife or infnt? Do you recklect how pore fellows spent their last shillin to buy a black crape for their hats, and clergymen cried in the pulpit, and the whole country through was no better than a great dismal funeral? Do you recklet, Mr. Yorke, who was the person that we all took on so about? We called her the Princis Sharlot of Wales; and we valyoud a single drop of her blood more than the whole heartless body of her father. Well, we looked up to her as a kind of saint or angle, and blest God (such foolish loyal English pipple as we ware in those days) who had sent this sweet lady to rule over us.