demanded by her or
submitted to, and the result was satisfactory to the virtue of
the accused damsel. Then naturally exploded the just indignation
of insulted honour. Her brother, Lord Hastings, came up to town,
saw Melbourne, who is said to have endeavoured to smother the
affair, and to have tried to persuade Lord Hastings to do so; but
he was not at all so inclined, and if he had been, it was too
late, as all the world had begun to talk of it, and he demanded
and obtained an audience of the Queen. I abstain from noticing
the various reports of what this or that person did or said, for
the truth of which I could not vouch; but it is certain that the
Court is plunged in shame and mortification at the exposure, that
the palace is full of bickerings and heart-burnings, while the
whole proceeding is looked upon by society at large as to the
last degree disgusting and disgraceful. It is really an
exemplification of the saying, that 'les Rois et les Valets' are
made of the refuse clay of creation, for though such things
sometimes happen in the servants' hall, and housekeepers charge
still-room and kitchen-maids with frailty, they are unprecedented
and unheard of in good society, and among people in high or even
in respectable stations. It is inconceivable how Melbourne can
have permitted this disgraceful and mischievous scandal, which
cannot fail to lower the character of the Court in the eyes of
the world. There may be objections to Melbourne's extraordinary
domiciliation in the palace; but the compensation ought to be
found in his good sense and experience preventing the possibility
of such transactions and _tracasseries_ as these.[3]

[3] [I insert this passage on a painful transaction which
had better be consigned to oblivion, because it
contains nothing which is not to be found in the most
ordinary books of reference; but I shall not enter
further on this matter.]

At Court yesterday to appoint Ebrington Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland: they all looked busy and _affaires_, and the Queen
seemed very grave.

March 8th, 1839 {p.173}

[Page Head: BULWER'S 'RICHELIEU'.]

I went last night to the first representation of Bulwer's play
'Richelieu:' a fine play, admirably got up, and very well acted
by Macready, except the last scene, the conception of which was
altogether bad. He turned Richelieu into an exaggerated Sixtus
V., who completely lost sight of his dignity, and swa