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 Garter.
LORD B. Ah! how generous, how generous an instinct! How like you, Madam,
to wish it!
QUEEN. What I want to know is, whether, as Prime Minister, you have any
objection?
LORD B.
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