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Updated: June 13, 2025
Ralph, who was no common observer, was surprised to see that as this tirade proceeded, the manner of Lord Frederick Verisopht, who at the commencement had been twirling his whiskers with a most dandified and listless air, underwent a complete alteration.
'Possible, my dear? Yes. 'Why who who on earth is that you have with you, mama? said Kate, shrinking back as she caught sight of a man smiling and kissing his hand. 'Who do you suppose, my dear? replied Mrs Nickleby, bending towards Mrs Wititterly, and speaking a little louder for that lady's edification. 'There's Mr Pyke, Mr Pluck, Sir Mulberry Hawk, and Lord Frederick Verisopht.
'I don't know how it is, but after you've seen the place and written your name in the little book, somehow or other you seem to be inspired; it kindles up quite a fire within one. 'Ye es! replied Lord Verisopht, 'I shall certainly go there. 'Julia, my life, interposed Mr Wititterly, 'you are deceiving his lordship unintentionally, my lord, she is deceiving you.
'Why didn't you say this before? asked Lord Verisopht, 'instead of letting me go on burning, consuming, dragging out a miserable existence for an a-age! 'I didn't know it, in the first place, answered Sir Mulberry carelessly; 'and in the second, I didn't believe you were so very much in earnest.
So died Lord Frederick Verisopht, by the hand which he had loaded with gifts, and clasped a thousand times; by the act of him, but for whom, and others like him, he might have lived a happy man, and died with children's faces round his bed.
Seven or eight gentlemen were standing round the fire when they went in, and, as they were talking very loud, were not aware of their entrance until Mr Ralph Nickleby, touching one on the coat-sleeve, said in a harsh emphatic voice, as if to attract general attention 'Lord Frederick Verisopht, my niece, Miss Nickleby.
'No, damn it, Verisopht, said Sir Mulberry, 'fair play's a jewel, and Miss Nickleby and I settled the matter with our eyes ten minutes ago. 'Ha, ha, ha! laughed the honourable Mr Snobb, 'very good, very good.
The place was a handsome suite of private apartments in Regent Street; the time was three o'clock in the afternoon to the dull and plodding, and the first hour of morning to the gay and spirited; the persons were Lord Frederick Verisopht, and his friend Sir Mulberry Hawk.
'I don't know that we're fit for anything else, replied Sir Mulberry; 'yet awhile, at least. I haven't a grain of life in me this morning. 'Life! cried Lord Verisopht. 'I feel as if there would be nothing so snug and comfortable as to die at once. 'Then why don't you die? said Sir Mulberry. With which inquiry he turned his face away, and seemed to occupy himself in an attempt to fall asleep.
He would not, for instance, have given us the preposterous scenes in Nicholas Nickleby in which parts are played by Lord Frederick Verisopht, Sir Mulberry Hawke, and their friends; the scene of the hero's luncheon at a restaurant and the dreadful description of the mirrors and other splendours would not have been written.
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