ot receive the
sacrament because she could not make up her mind to be reconciled to
her son; others doubted whether she had religious feeling enough to
consent to ask for the sacrament or to receive it. All this time the
King chattered perpetually to Lord Hervey, to the physicians and
surgeons, and to his children, about the virtues {122} and gifts of the
Queen. He deplored in advance the lonely, dull life he would have to
lead when she was taken from him. He was in frequent bursts of tears.
He declared that he had never been tired one moment in her company;
that he could never have been happy with any other woman in the world;
and he paid her the graceful and delicate compliment of saying that if
she had not been his wife he would rather have her for a mistress than
any other woman with whom he had ever held such relationship. Yet he
hardly ever went into her room, after one of these outpourings of
tender affection, without being rough to her and shouting at her and
bullying her. When her pains and her wounds made her move uneasily in
her bed, he asked her how the devil she could sleep when she would
never lie still a moment. He walked heavily about the room as if it
were a chamber in a barrack; he talked incessantly; gave all manner of
directions; made the unfortunate Queen swallow all manner of foods and
drinks because he took it into his head that they would do her good;
and she submitted, poor, patient, pitiable creature, and swallowed and
vomited, swallowed again and vomited again, and uttered no complaint.

[Sidenote: 1737--Would not play second fiddle]

Even in his outbursts of grief the King's absurd personal vanity
constantly came out; for he was always telling his listeners that the
Queen was devoted to him because she was wildly enamoured of his person
as well as his genius. Then he told long stories about his own
indomitable courage, and went over and over again an account of the
heroism he had displayed during a storm at sea. One night the King was
in the outer room with the Princess Emily and Lord Hervey. The puffy
little King wore his nightgown and nightcap, and was sitting in a great
chair with his thick legs on a stool; a heroic figure, decidedly. The
princess was lying on a couch. Lord Hervey sat by the fire. The King
started the old story of the storm and his own bravery, and gave it to
his companions in all its familiar details. The princess at last
closed her eyes, and seemed to be fa