And so the Boris Johnson affair slithers from drama to farce to the Commedia dell’arte with no time for an interval.

It reminds me of a favourite political novel. Not, unfortunately, Disraeli or Trollope. No, this is straight out of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Sentence first, verdict afterwards, shrieked the Queen of Hearts in that fine tale. Now that is replicated at Westminster.

Boris Johnson pronounced sentence upon himself by resigning as an MP. Then, in the aftermath, the Commons Privileges Committee delivered its verdict.

And what a verdict. They declared that the former Prime Minister had intentionally lied to the House and the citizenry over parties held in Downing Street during the Covid lockdown.

Mr Johnson’s verdict on the verdict? It was, he said, “deranged”. The committee was “a kangaroo court”.

And now? Following Mr Johnson’s self-sentencing and the committee’s verdict? Why, of course, trial by jury – in the shape of a Commons debate and vote upon the report on Monday.

As to outcome, we already have a statement from the Chancellor of the Exchequer, also probably borrowed from Lewis Carroll.

He declared sententiously that he had “appointed Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson to be Steward and Bailiff of the Three Hundreds of Chiltern.”

Technically, in short, an office of profit under the Crown, disqualifying the holder of said office from serving in the Commons.

The arcane procedures of Westminster – Right Honourable members two sword lengths apart and all that stuff – can sometimes seem gently eccentric, even mildly amusing.

In these days of pestilence, conflict and economic stagnation, they are downright exasperating. But not as bad as the Johnson episode itself.

Perhaps you are struggling to pay your mortgage. Perhaps, more fundamentally, you are wondering how to make your limited earnings stretch to afford both food and domestic fuel.

The ludicrous clanjamfrie in the Commons this week must make you spit. We have a couple of MPs prepared to quit the Lower House – because they were apparently on a promise to shift to the Red Benches in Another Place. (They mean the House of Lords.)

We have a broader row over the Honours doled out to mark Mr Johnson’s retirement as PM. Amplified by a bizarre dispute between him and his successor, Rishi Sunak. Citizens look on, bewildered and faintly nauseated.

Whenever the issue of Honours is raised, you can count on someone spotlighting the awards given, on merit, to the humble and helpful, to the carers rather than the courtiers, to the jannies rather than the judges.

It strikes me that this somewhat misses the point. Which is that you can have meritorious rewards for the citizenry – without entrenching hierarchy and latent feudalism through appointing lifelong legislators to the House of Lords.

Let us, by all means, debate the advantages or otherwise of a second chamber which, supposedly, involves experts rather than those elected to the Lower House. There is an argument to be had.

But let us focus upon that, should it seem germane, rather than muddying the discourse with references to the MBE handed out to a dedicated council staffer in Scunthorpe.

Still, back to Boris. What do the Tories do now? Firstly, they have to consider how to vote in the Commons on Monday. A few, I expect, will back their ex-leader. Rather more will vote with the Committee to censure him. And others will find their attention elsewhere. The toothache excuse, perhaps.

For Rishi Sunak, another persistent problem. This week, Labour’s Sir Keir Starmer sought, quite deliberately, to link the Johnson affair with economic woes. He depicted people worried about their household bills having to endure the spectacle of Tories arguing over peerages. Following an established theme, he also depicted Mr Sunak as “too weak” to intervene.

The scope and scale of the Johnson problem was further highlighted in exchanges between the PM and Stephen Flynn of the SNP.

Mr Sunak sought to deflect criticism by referencing the issue of Nicola Sturgeon’s arrest (and subsequent release) with regard to the police investigation into SNP finances. On another day and, crucially, if there are other developments, that might well be a potent weapon for the PM to deploy.

This week, it sank. Mr Flynn curtly advised the PM to “grow up”. Mr Sunak subsided, meekly.

Aside from such sniping, the Johnson issue presents a different challenge to the incumbent PM. Which is that we might not have seen the last of Mr J, even though he has left his Uxbridge and South Ruislip seat

Some have speculated that he might seek to swap his relatively small majority there for a safer berth elsewhere, conveniently vacated by a chum or sympathetic party grandee. Perhaps in preparation for a leadership return? The senior Tories I have spoken to in the time available reckon that is now much more unlikely than previously. For two reasons.

Firstly, the excoriating nature of the committee’s findings. Secondly, his extraordinary behaviour ahead of the report, which one source characterised to me as “disloyal in the extreme”.

He may yet attempt to play the martyr, depicting the inquiry as biased and unprofessional. But people I have talked to, including potential sympathisers, seem unconvinced. It may – I stress, may – be over.

The voting choices of Douglas Ross and the other Scottish Tory MPs promise to provide a source of innocent merriment. On the wireless, in April last year, my erstwhile BBC colleague Gary Robertson asked Mr Ross whether he believed Mr Johnson to be a “truthful man”. The answer was yes.

And now? After the committee findings? Presumably, we will learn the views of the group – including the Scottish Secretary Alister Jack – on Monday.

More generally, though, the episode is scarcely positive for the PM and for Tory hopes at the next UK General Election, expected in autumn next year.

If it were the only problem, Mr Sunak could shrug it off, disowning his predecessor, dismissing him from his mind. But there is much more. There is the economy. Inflation may be heading downwards, finally, but folk are not finding that yet in their weekly shop. They are hurting.

Just as Honours are rewards, so politics can be a blame game.