Queen Elizabeth will be the centre of pomp this morning - as her family is at the centre of yet more scandal. Frank Millar in London examines the latest travails of the royals
What on earth will Her Majesty be thinking this morning as she surveys her assembled Lords and MPs, painfully aware what they might be thinking about her and her embattled family?
It will be the dignified part of the British constitution on display in central London as the Irish state coach bears Queen Elizabeth down the Mall and across Horseguards into Whitehall and Parliament Square to the House of Lords.
But there is little dignity in the amazing backdrop to this the sixth Queen's speech in the reign of Tony Blair.
And there will be plenty of behind-hands sniggering as the Lord Chancellor and Speaker and assorted silver sticks-in-waiting bow and scrape before the monarch as she proceeds to unveil her government's programme for the new parliamentary session.
There are many more republicans in New Labour's ranks - and within the cabinet - than the Prime Minister would have us know.
In now ritual fashion some of them will linger conspicuously on the green Commons benches, absenting themselves from the familiar formalities, disregarding Black Rod's summons of MPs to the Lords to hear The Gracious Speech.
Certainly there will be plenty of wise-cracks as they await Mr Blair's return to resume the serious business of governing Britain.
Ridicule is a potent political weapon, and it is currently being deployed with lethal effect against the House of Windsor.
True, the breakfast headlines can sometimes be over-cooked in the now-daily feeding frenzy of scandal and titillation, allegation and innuendo. However there is no reason to disbelieve reports of "panic" in either St James's Palace or Buckingham Palace as Prince Charles finds himself accused of a cover-up over allegations of male rape against a close aide, and as the Queen faces demands for an official grilling over her role in the sensational collapse of the Paul Burrell theft trial.
Her Majesty's intervention came just an incredible 24 hours before Mr Burrell was due to take the witness stand at the Old Bailey, and offer his defence to charges of stealing possessions of the late Diana, Princess of Wales. The official explanation was that the Queen had just the week before realised the importance of a conversation which she had had with Mr Burrell in the immediate aftermath of Diana's death five years before, during which the royal butler informed her that the Spencer family was busy shredding history and that he had taken some of the Princess's possessions for safe-keeping.
Nor is this as unlikely as many plainly find it. The police - whose conduct of the entire investigation is also under scrutiny - had told Prince Charles and Prince William that Mr Burrell's lifestyle was being funded by the sale of Diana's possessions, and never bothered to correct their understanding when it emerged that the former butler's income derived from a best-selling book and a successful line in after-dinner speeches.
Conspicuously wishing to be seen not to interfere in the case, it was said on the Queen's behalf that it was only after the start of the trial that she grasped the potential significance to Mr Burrell's defence of that conversation years before, at which point she mentioned it to Prince Charles, who notified the authorities and set in train the events leading to the former butler's acquittal.
Moreover, as loyalists complain, the palace - with centuries of experience behind it - might have moved more speedily and proved rather more adept had cover-up and self interest been its motivation.
Be that as it may, the perception quickly took hold that, having watched the Spencer family's reputation trashed in spectacular fashion, the House of Windsor had moved to protect itself from further harrowing revelations about Diana's troubled life and times.
If that was the case, it needn't have bothered for much that Mr Burrell might have said in court has found its way into the public prints anyway. And devotees of celebrity soap, who thought they couldn't be shocked after the sensations of Squidgy and Camillagate, have been pleasantly surprised.
They now "know" that Mr Burrell smuggled Diana's lovers into Kensington Palace in the boot of a car and bought top-shelf magazines for the 14-year-old Prince William; that the Princess would sometimes go off on a hot date dressed only in fur coat and diamonds, and proffered cash to encourage prostitutes off the streets; that Prince Charles ordered the butler to lie about his whereabouts and the presence of his mistress; and that, like Princess Margaret before him, he must be the house guest from hell.
Apparently the Prince brings his own toilet paper with him and advises hosts in advance on the shape and density of sandwiches they might serve. The butler was sent back to his Highgrove home to fetch paintings to adorn the walls of his hospital room, and the requisite silverware and crystal with which to serve His Royal Highness.
Even more incredibly - and this has finally done for some previously committed monarchists - a servant allegedly had to hold the bottle when the royal personage was required to provide a urine sample.
By the accounts of those granted access we know that the Prince of Wales is a serious man, devoted to the public good, immensely interested in a wide range of policy issues, whose charitable trust does much in particular for the deprived and under-valued youth of Britain's inner cities. However these tales of the absurd plainly put that reputation at risk.
Ridicule, however, is not the greatest danger here for Prince Charles. Former royal valet George Smith has effectively accused him and St James's Palace of obstructing the course of justice to protect a favoured courtier against allegations of rape - allegations recorded by Diana on a tape, the disappearance of which from that famous box in Kensington Palace apparently first led police to the door of Mr Burrell.
Again the conspiracy theorists are challenged by the suggestion that a then-vengeful Princess of Wales would have deployed any nuclear device in her possession to rock the royal establishment and prevent the succession of Charles.
We can only know that the ghost of Diana still haunts the heir to the throne. And that yesterday, as he approved a limited internal inquiry, Prince Charles will have grasped that much of his and the monarchy's successful rehabilitation in the years following Diana's untimely death - capped by the Queen's highly successful Golden Jubilee - is undone and will have to be undertaken all over again.
Frank Millar is London editor of The Irish Times