Angels Ministers | Page 5

Beaconsfield?
That sounds like composition.
LORD B. Believe me, Madam, only an impromptu.
QUEEN. Now, my dear Lord, pray sit down! I had that chair specially
brought for you. Generally I sit here quite alone.
LORD B. Such kind forethought, Madam, overwhelms me! Words are
inadequate. I accept, gratefully, the repose you offer me.
(_He sinks into the chair, and sits motionless and mute, in a weariness
that is not the less genuine because it provides an effect. But from one
seated in the Royal Presence much is expected; and so it is in a tone of
sprightly expectancy that his Royal Mistress now prompts him to his
task of entertaining her_.)
QUEEN. Well? And how is everything?
LORD B. (_rousing himself with an effort_). Oh! Pardon! Your
Majesty would have me speak on politics, and affairs of State? I was
rapt away for the moment.
QUEEN. Do not be in any hurry, dear Prime Minister.
LORD B. Ah! That word from an indulgent Mistress spurs me freshly
to my task. But, Madam, there is almost nothing to tell: politics, like
the rest of us, have been taking holiday.

QUEEN. I thought that Mr. Gladstone had been speaking.
LORD B. (_with an airy flourish of courtly disdain_). Oh, yes! He has
been--speaking.
QUEEN. In Edinburgh, quite lately.
LORD B. And in more other places than I can count.
Speaking--speaking-- speaking. But I have to confess, Madam, that I
have not read his speeches. They are composed for brains which can
find more leisure than yours, Madam--or mine.
QUEEN. I have read some of them.
LORD B. Your Majesty does him great honour--and yourself some
inconvenience, I fear. Those speeches, so great a strain to understand,
or even to listen to--my hard duty for now some forty years--are a far
greater strain to read.
QUEEN. They annoy me intensely. I have no patience with him!
LORD B. Pardon me, Madam; if you have read one of his speeches,
your patience has been extraordinary.
QUEEN. Can't you stop it?
LORD B. Stop?--stop what, Madam? Niagara, the Flood? That which
has no beginning, no limit, has also no end: till, by the operation of
nature, it runs dry.
QUEEN. But, surely, he should be stopped when he speaks on matters
which may, any day, bring us into war!
LORD B. Then he would be stopped. When the British nation goes to
war, Madam, it ceases to listen to reason. Then it is only the beating of
its own great heart that it hears: to that goes the marching of its armies,
with victory as the one goal. Then, Madam, above reason rises instinct.
Against that he will be powerless.
QUEEN. You think so?
LORD B. I am sure, Madam. If we are drawn into war, his opposition
becomes futile. If we are not: well, if we are not, it will not be his doing
that we escape that--dire necessity.
QUEEN, But you do think it necessary, don't you?
(_To the Sovereign's impetuous eagerness, so creditable to her heart, he
replies with the oracular solemnity by which caution can be
sublimated_)
LORD B. I hope it may not be, Madam. We must all say that--up till
the last moment. It is the only thing we can say, to testify the pacifity

of our intention when challenged by other Powers.
QUEEN (_touching the newspaper_). This morning's news isn't good,
I'm afraid. The Russians are getting nearer to Constantinople.
LORD B. They will never enter it, Madam.
QUEEN. No, they mustn't! We will not allow it.
LORD B. That, precisely, is the policy of your Majesty's Government.
Russia knows that we shall not allow it; she knows that it will never be.
Nevertheless, we may have to make a demonstration.
QUEEN. Do you propose to summon Parliament?
LORD B. Not Parliament; no, Madam. Your Majesty's Fleet will be
sufficient.
(_This lights a spark; and the royal mind darts into strategy_)
QUEEN. If I had my way, Lord Beaconsfield, my Fleet would be in the
Baltic to-morrow; and before another week was over, Petersburg would
be under bombardment.
LORD B. (_considerately providing this castle in the air with its
necessary foundations_). And Cronstadt would have fallen.
QUEEN (_puzzled for a moment at this naming of a place which had
not entered her calculations_). Cronstadt? Why Cronstadt?
LORD B. Merely preliminary, Madam. When that fortified suburb has
crumbled--the rest will be easy.
QUEEN. Yes! And what a good lesson it will teach them! The Crimea
wasn't enough for them, I suppose.
LORD B. The Crimea! Ah, what memories-of heroism--that word
evokes! "Magnificent, but not war!"
QUEEN. Oh! There is one thing, Lord Beaconsfield, on which I want
your advice.
LORD B. Always at your Majesty's disposal.
QUEEN. I wish to confer upon the Sultan of Turkey my Order of the