A French nobleman the narrator refers to as “Monseigneur” drinks his morning hot chocolate—a process that takes multiple attendants, “all four a-blaze with gorgeous decoration, and the Chief of them unable to exist with fewer than two gold watches in his pocket” (108).

While this is going on, the narrator describes Monseigneur and the decadent society he belongs to. Despite being a person of great political importance, Monseigneur “ha[s] one truly noble idea of general public business, which was, to let everything go in its own way; [and] of particular public business, [he has] the other truly noble idea that it must all go his way—tend to his own power and pocket” (109). His peers share this total disinterest in the needs of the country at large; like Monseigneur, they are mostly concerned with their own entertainment, and are constantly “dressed for a Fancy Ball that was never to leave off” (112). Overall, Monseigneur and the guests currently in his home are dangerously cut off from what the narrator calls “reality”—while doctors devise “dainty remedies for imaginary disorders that never existed” (110), the lower classes are starving.

After finishing his chocolate, Monseigneur receives his many guests and admirers. One of these people—“a man of about sixty, handsomely dressed, haughty in manner, and with a face like a fine mask” (113)—curses Monseigneur as he leaves the house.