A deep impenetrable mystery hangs over this story.  Perhaps some German of the twenty-first century—­some future Giffard, or who not—­will put his wits to work to solve the riddle.  In very sooth il ne vaut pas la chandelle.  A quarrel did take place between George the Prince and George the Less, but of its causes no living mortal is cognizant:  we can only give the received versions.  It appears, then, that dining with H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, Master Brummell asked him to ring the bell.  Considering the intimacy between them, and that the Regent often sacrificed his dignity to his amusement, there was nothing extraordinary in this.  But it is added that the Prince did ring the bell in question—­unhappy bell to jar so between two such illustrious friends!—­and when the servant came, ordered ‘Mr. Brummell’s carriage!’ Another version palms off the impertinence on a drunken midshipman, who, being related to the Comptroller of the Household, had been invited to dinner by the Regent.  Another yet states that Brummell, being asked to ring the said bell, replied, ‘Your Royal Highness is close to it.’  No one knows the truth of the legend, any more than whether Homer was a man or a myth.  It surely does not matter.  The friends quarrelled, and perhaps it was time they should do so, for they had never improved one another’s morals; but it is only fair to the Beau to add that he always denied the whole affair, and that he himself gave as the cause of the quarrel his own sarcasms on the Prince’s increasing corpulency, and his resemblance to Mrs. Fitzherbert’s porter, ‘Big Ben.’  Certainly some praise is due to the Beau for the sans, froid with which he appeared to treat the matter, though in reality dreadfully cut up about it.  He lounged about, made amusing remarks on his late friend and patron, swore he would ‘cut’ him, and in short behaved with his usual aplomb.  The ‘Wales, ring the bell,’ was sufficient proof of his impudence, but ‘Who’s your fat friend?’ was really good.

It is well known, in all probability, that George IV. contemplated with as much disgust and horror the increasing rotundity of his ‘presence’ as ever a maiden lady of a certain age did her first grey hair.  Soon after the bell affair, the royal beau met his former friend in St. James’s Street, and resolved to cut him.  This was attacking Brummell with his own pet weapon, but not with success.  Each antagonist was leaning on the arm of a friend.  ‘Jack Lee,’ who was thus supporting the Beau, was intimate with the Prince, who, to make the cut the more marked, stopped and talked to him without taking the slightest notice of Brummell.  After a time both parties moved on, and then came the moment of triumph and revenge.  It was sublime!  Turning round half way, so that his words could not fail to be heard by the retreating Regent, the Beau asked of his companion in his usual drawl, ‘Well, Jack, who’s your fat friend?’ The coolness, presumption, and impertinence of the question perhaps made it the best thing the Beau ever said, and from that time the Prince took care not to risk another encounter with him.[11]