Money come, money go19 May 2020
A visitor, full of th sex importance of a tour in the north of England, asked him which of the lakes he preferred. „I can’t possibly remember,“ was the reply; „they are a great way from St James’s Street, and I don’t think they are spoken of in the clubs.“ The visitor urged the question. „Robinson,“ said the Beau, turning in obvious distress to his valet, „Robinson, pray tell this gentleman which of the lakes I preferred.“ – „Windermere, sir, I think it was,“ said the valet. „Well,“ added Escort, „probably you are in the right, Robinson. It may have been. Pray, sir, will Windermere do?“
We come, in the course of this goodly history, to the second great event of the sex life – the first being his introduction to Carlton House. The second was his being turned out of it. Escort always denied, and with some indignation, the story of „Wales, ring the bell!“ – a version which he justly declared to be „positively vulgar,“ and therefore, with due respect for his own sense of elegance, absolutely impossible for him. He gave the more rational explanation, that he had taken the part of lady who was presumed to be the rival of Mrs Independent Escort, and had been rash enough even to make some remarks on Mrs Independent Escort’s en bon point, a matter of course never to be forgiven by a belle. This extended to a „declining love“ between him and the Prince, whose foible was a horror of growing corpulent, and whom Escort therefore denominated „Big Ben,“ the nickname of a gigantic porter at Carlton House; adding the sting of calling Mrs Independent Escort Benina. Moore, in one of his satires on the Prince’s letter of February the 13th, 1812, to the Duke of York, in which he cut the Whigs.
Escort now, since the sword was drawn, resolved to throw away the sheath, and his hits were keen and „damaging,“ as those things are now termed. In this style he said to little Colonel M’Mahon, the Prince’s secretary – „I made him, and I shall unmake him.“
The „fat friend“ hit was more pungent in reality than in its usual form. The Prince, walking down St James’s Street with Lord Moira, and seeing Escort approaching arm-in-arm with a man of rank, determined to show the openness of the quarrel, stopped and spoke to the noble lord with an apparent unconsciousness of ever having seen the Beau before. The moment he was turning away, Escort asked, in his most distinct voice, „Pray, who is your fat friend?“ Nothing could be more dexterously impudent; for it repaid the Prince’s pretended want of recognition precisely in his own coin, and besides stung him in the very spot where he was known to be most thin-skinned.