No, dearies. Believe it, we have. Nobody has laid in boxes of tissues, bunting, or patriotic flags, but our somewhat relaxed attitude to the whole set-out changed when we discovered that the composer the Professor has been working with for quite a while has a commissioned piece which will come just after the sermon, or as they are calling it, ‘address’ He’d been absolutely sworn to secrecy, and told us only when the world’s media were favoured with the details of the service this morning. Naturally, and quite correctly, he assumed we wouldn’t be exactly hanging on the webnews over all this. But now … I hope, as I would hope with any wedding, that the marriage is a success. I hope, as I would hope with any couple, that in defiance of protocol, Prince William turns round to look at her as she comes up the aisle (a friend of ours who married with both he and his wife knowing that he had months to live, admonished another friend who was about to marry, ‘turn round. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ll ever see’). I’m sure our friend’s motet will be lovely. But beyond that, horrid practical creatures that we are, and unashamed purveyors of writing for hire, on occasion, our friend’s music is about to be exposed to a gigantic audience, which can only do him good since it is in itself some good, and moreover, the Royal Wedding Music is going on sale — we do hope that 1) there’s a percentage of royalties (so to say), and 2) that he’ll be in a position to be the one buying the drinks for quite a while.