“Soit fait comme il est desire.”
This terminated the royal sitting. The Speaker, bent double before the Chancellor, descended from the stool, backwards, lifting up his robe behind him; the members of the House of Commons bowed to the ground, and as the Upper House resumed the business of the day, heedless of all these marks of respect, the Commons departed.
CHAPTER VII.
STORMS OF MEN ARE WORSE THAN STORMS OF OCEANS.
The doors were closed again, the Usher of the Black Rod re-entered; the Lords Commissioners left the bench of State, took their places at the top of the dukes’ benches, by right of their commission, and the Lord Chancellor addressed the House:—
“My Lords, the House having deliberated for several days on the Bill which proposes to augment by L100,000 sterling the annual provision for his Royal Highness the Prince, her Majesty’s Consort, and the debate having been exhausted and closed, the House will proceed to vote; the votes will be taken according to custom, beginning with the puisne Baron. Each Lord, on his name being called, will rise and answer content, or non-content, and will be at liberty to explain the motives of his vote, if he thinks fit to do so.—Clerk, take the vote.”
The Clerk of the House, standing up, opened a large folio, and spread it open on a gilded desk. This book was the list of the Peerage.
The puisne of the House of Lords at that time was John Hervey, created Baron and Peer in 1703, from whom is descended the Marquis of Bristol.
The clerk called,—
“My Lord John, Baron Hervey.”
An old man in a fair wig rose, and said, “Content.”
Then he sat down.
The Clerk registered his vote.
The Clerk continued,—
“My Lord Francis Seymour, Baron Conway, of Killultagh.”
“Content,” murmured, half rising, an elegant young man, with a face like a page, who little thought that he was to be ancestor to the Marquises of Hertford.