ere was at last a laugh as often as
he did so, Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, who had put him up, grew very
angry, and at last his wrath boiled over. When Robinson sat down
Pitt rose, and with a tone and manner of the utmost indignation
began, 'Mr. Speaker, sir--sugar--I say sugar. Who laughs now?' and
nobody did laugh. Once in the House of Lords, on a debate during
the American war, he said he hoped the King might be awakened from
his slumbers. There was a cry of 'Order! order!' 'Order, my
Lords?' burst out Chatham, 'Order? I have not been disorderly, but
I _will_ be disorderly. I repeat again, I hope that his Majesty
may be awakened from his slumbers, but that he may be awakened by
such an awful apparition as that which drew King Priam's curtains
in the dead of the night and told him of the conflagration of his
empire.' Holland regretted much that he had never heard Lord
North, whom he fancied he should have liked as much as any of his
great opponents; his temper, shrewdness, humour, and power of
argument were very great. Tommy Townshend, a violent, foolish
fellow, who was always talking strong language, said in some
debate, 'Nothing will satisfy me but to have the noble Lord's
head; I will have his head.' Lord North said, 'The honourable
gentleman says he will have my head. I bear him no malice in
return, for though the honourable gentleman says he will have my
head, I can assure him that I would on no account have his.'

September 13th, 1834 {p.132}

Dined again at Holland House the day before yesterday; Melbourne,
Rice, Lord and Lady Albemarle, and Lord Gosford; rather dull. A
discussion about _who_ was the man in a mask who cut Charles I.'s
head off; Mackintosh believed he knew. What a literary puerility!
The man in a mask was Jack Ketch (whatever his name was); who can
doubt it? Where was the man, Roundhead or Puritan, who as an
amateur would have mounted the scaffold to perform this office?
But the executioner, though only discharging the duties of his
office, probably thought in those excited times that he would not
be safe from the vengeance of some enthusiastic cavalier, and
that it was more prudent to conceal the features of the man by
whom the deed was done. Melbourne swore that Henry VIII. was the
greatest man who ever lived, and Allen declared if he had not
married Ann Boleyn we should have continued Catholics to this
day, both of which assertions I ventured to dispute. Allen with
all his learning is fond