The Shadow of Great Britain

701: Chapter 339: Furious Disraeli 701: Chapter 339: Furious Disraeli “You’re just a coward, a scaredy-cat, unworthy of the Jewish nationality!”

“Oh, Mr.

Disraeli, I accept everything you say.

And indeed, you’re much more noble than I am, a respected Tory Party member, a true Anglo-Saxon by bone, with the noble blue blood of Britain coursing through your veins.

It’s just that, what puzzles me is that most people inherit their bloodline materially, whereas you seem to have been purified spiritually.”

Great Dumas, watching Disraeli and Heine tied to chairs and yelling at each other through the air, the usually optimistic and hearty Frenchman couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.

He turned to Arthur and asked, “Shall we gag them again?

Do you still have Eld’s socks?”

Arthur, with one hand resting on the back of the sofa, sipped his tea calmly, “Alexander, I’ve never believed in making others suffer through what I’ve endured.”

Upon hearing this, Great Dumas immediately remembered his ordeal at the theater and couldn’t help but retort sarcastically, “Who would have thought that our Inspector Hastings had such a humanitarian side!”

“Of course.” Arthur accepted the compliment without hesitation, “Our Scotland Yard policemen are all professionally trained.

You might want to take a good look at the Metropolitan Police Act; Britain should currently be the country that imposes the most restrictions on police in the world.”

“Yes, that’s right, you don’t even have the power to regulate illegal publications.

I mean, I hope you truly don’t have it.”

No sooner had Great Dumas finished speaking than they heard Disraeli roar, “I dare to proudly declare my Jewish heritage in front of all the members of Parliament, recounting the splendid past of the Jewish people.

You, do you dare to do such a thing?”

“What’s there to be afraid of!”

“You dare?”

Heine said disdainfully, “If you don’t believe me, come with me to Westminster Palace tomorrow.”

Arthur and Great Dumas, upon hearing this, both took out handkerchiefs to cover their mouths and couldn’t stop coughing.

Disraeli, on the other hand, was already fuming with rage, “Why at Westminster?

Wouldn’t you dare to do this in Prussia?”

Heine replied earnestly, “I’m not stupid.

If I did that, the police would arrest me.

In Prussia, there are more than a few who would love to throw me in jail, and I certainly can’t make their wishes come true that easily.”

Upon hearing this, Disraeli’s chest heaved violently.

In the past, people always called him a narcissist, and Mr.

Disraeli admitted that sometimes he was so confident that he seemed frivolous.

But today, he finally found someone more narcissistic than himself, and worse, the other party seemed to have no awareness of any wrongdoing.

Thinking this, Disraeli suddenly understood why people often said—France dominated the land, Britain occupied the seas, and Deutschland ruled the kingdom of the air.

Just as German thinkers were always content with freedom of thought and dreams, never considering this a flaw of the German people.

The German-born Jew, Heine, although not content with freedom in dreams, was satisfied with the fearless warrior he became in those dreams.

In short, this man in his early thirties was a bit too self-conscious.

If put in Talleyrand’s words, if a person was still like this at the age of thirty, it was beyond hope.

However, there was still hope for Heine because when he found he didn’t have a secure and well-paying job, he was willing to temporarily bend a little, just as he did in front of the great German publisher Koda.

Arthur, also somewhat overwhelmed by Heine’s relentless barrage, took advantage of the momentary peace while Disraeli was lost in thought to speak, “Heinrich, I can understand your ideals and aspirations.

However, considering the current situation in London, we are contemplating whether we should publish the second part of your ‘Travel Sketches,’ the ‘North Sea Collection,’ underground.

Since you’re here today, we planned to hear your opinion.”

“Underground publication?” Heine perked up as soon as he heard this, “Why?”

Great Dumas, who had been in charge of reviewing Heine’s works, replied, “Heinrich, maybe it’s because it’s been too long, and you’ve forgotten what you wrote in the ‘North Sea Collection.’”

He went back to the editing room, pulled out a piece of Heine’s manuscript, and read aloud, “As soon as people run out of food and drink, they would helplessly start tapping their fingers, playing the ‘Red Guillotine March.’ Then, the nobility would be hanged from the lampposts again.”

Frowning, Heine asked, “What’s wrong with this passage?

What I said refers to the nobility of Deutschland.”

Arthur responded, “Sorry, Heinrich, although your description is indeed vivid.

But our King is from Germany, and many of our princes also marry princesses from the states of Germany.”

“Oh!” Heine replied with a hint of sarcasm, “I had almost forgotten about that.

After all, Germany is the world’s largest breeding ground for monarchs, and with their breeding speed, I even suspect that the presidents and kings of South America will be able to marry German princesses in the future.

If we follow the British commercial mindset, if the countries of South America decide to welcome six at once, we’ll give the seventh for free.”

Tennyson, upon hearing this, simply coughed and carefully reminded, “Consider it a plea from me, Mr.

Heine.

If you were to speak like this in the middle of the street, the police would invite you for tea.”