not all may know its particulars.

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