Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

He is an elderly amiable little Dutchman in a soft felt hat; his name is BOSCH, and he is taking me about. Why I engaged him I don't quite know—unless from a general sense of helplessness in Holland, and a craving for any kind of companionship. Now I have got him, I feel rather more helpless than ever—a sort of composite of Sandford and Merton, with a didactic, but frequently incomprehensible Dutch Barlow. My Sandford half would like to exhibit an intelligent curiosity, but is generally suppressed by Merton, who has a morbid horror of useful information.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Court-mourning marred, the Season's earliest prime,
And now, just as with hope young breasts are filled,
When young leaves still are verdant on the lime,
When diners-out are having a good time,
When Epsom's o'er and Ascot is at hand;
To cut all short, is scarcely less than crime.
Confusion on that wrangling party-band
Whose Dissolution deals the doldrums round the land!
Ah! wild and high those Phantom-fiddlings rise!—
All jocund June with palsying terror thrills;
Fashion sits frozen dead with staring eyes.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

This causes him to be taken with a fit of "exalted rapture," while the lady, on her part, cannot help being "deeply stirred."
After a mad wooing, she laughs in a "wild transport of passion," calls him a "high-minded boy," likewise "a blossoming hero," also "a babe of prowess;" all which epithets, styles and titles, are in quite the vein of Falstaff addressing Prince Hal. Then, in return, Siegfried can hit on no better compliment than to style her "a Sun" and "a Star." Having thus exhausted their joint-stock of complimentary endearments, they throw themselves into each other's arms.
Source: Gutenberg

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