Let us remind ourselves of what it was supposed to be like. Contemplating freedom after 43 years of European servitude, the Conservative MEP Daniel Hannan dreamt, in his 2016 book What Next, of “a rectangle of light [that] dazzles us and, as our eyes adjust, we see a summer meadow. Swallows swoop against the blue sky. We hear the gurgling of a little brook. Now to stride into the sunlight.”

This is the fantastical, mock-lyrical mood that opened the most depressing saga of modern British politics and which, with the death of Theresa May’s deal in the House of Commons and the start of a move against her, has descended into black comedy.

Now that the real-world, 585-page compromise withdrawal agreement has been delivered