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My uncle the Duke of Richmond - yes, don't chaff me regarding my aristocratic familial connections - we can't all be sturdy republican yeomen, after all. At any rate, he tells me the anti-popery faction associated with that madman Gordon might be planning to attack Catholic houses and from that idiotic foray run general riot through the City. I doubt that our satanic monarch will do anything to stop them, as little as he cares for Catholic emancipation - and North's so demoralised by the American war that the only thing keeping him from utter collapse is the king's Hessian boot up his arse.
I told uncle that I'd be happy to guard Richmond House from the assaults of the rabble. Would you care to join me? You can always count on the very best champagne at his table. We might even invite that actress Mary Robinson to join us - I daresay she'd bring a friend for you. Oh, I was in jest, Burke, to be sure. The bounteous Perdita's still bestowing her favours upon the young Prince of Wales, at any rate, though share and share alike, I always say.
Come, Burke, say that you will - what sport it will be! Besides, I'll wager that few of my bosom moneylenders will venture out in the midst of riot to claim their pound of flesh, so we'll not be bothered by their whines and howls. Might even invite Fitzwilliam along for faro.
I know that look of old - it's the face of the virtuous Mr. Burke preparing a rebuke for the young rake Mr. Fox. Yes, no longer quite so young - but still without office, so what harm in gaming deep? Who knows - this night's events might finally push North out and our friend Lord Rockingham in. Then we'll see who's truly best fit to lead this nation into the next century - that pathetic national liability or your humble "Man of the People."
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