At this critical moment, somebody broke some dishes and upset a bottle of champagne.
"Easy! easy! quiet--quiet there--pray! pray!" said Elliston, addressing them by way of parenthesis.
He then continued his speech,--"Yes, gentlemen, you shall have more masquerades! And what's more, ladies and gentlemen----"
Elliston's lame speech by this time had excited some laughter.
"I never knew him quite so bad as this," said a gentleman on my left.
"As I was saying, gentlemen," Elliston proceeded, "I mean, my kind friends, it has ever been my ambition to give you pleasure, and, gentlemen, masquerades are pleasant, merry, spirited things, particularly when the occasion is, like this, to celebrate the birthday of our august--oh! gentlemen and ladies, apropos, I had forgotten,--but I now, though last not least, beg to propose a toast, in which every one of you will join me in your heart of hearts!"
Elliston filled a bumper, and drank--"His Majesty!"
We were all stunned with the loud cheers, three times three repeated, which followed. He then passed round the tables, and stopped to speak to several of his friends, one of whom drank off one bottle of champagne with him, and then called for another.
"Why man, one would think you were Cardinal Wolsey."
In about a fortnight after the Opera had closed we all arrived at Brighton.
Leinster gave way to his feelings, on the day I left town, by putting more wine into his glass than usual.
"Only say you like me better than Worcester," said His Grace, "and I shall go to Ireland in some comfort."
"I have forgotten Lord Worcester," said I.
"And you will be glad to see me on my return then?" asked Leinster.
"Certainly," I answered, "and particularly if you will leave off playing the hundred and fourth psalm on the big fiddle. I really am tired of it."
Leinster proposed giving me _Rule Britannia_ on my arrival, and promised everything I could wish.
Fred Bentinck rode by the side of my carriage for the first ten miles. He offered to drive me down all the way with his own horses; but on certain conditions, which I declined.
"Well!" said Frederick, in his loud, odd voice, as he took leave of me, at _The Cock_ at Sutton, "well, I really do hope you will soon come back. I don't, as you know, make speeches or pretend to be in love with you. I might have been perhaps; but, the fact is, you are a loose woman rather, and you know I hate anything immoral. However, you may believe me when I say, that I am sorry you are leaving London."