o
bear with his impertinence; and bid him trouble me with no more
messages, but get out of my house.'

In the evening, whilst Lord Hervey sat at tea in the queen's outer
apartment with the Duke of Cumberland, a page came to the duke to speak
to the prince in the passage. It was to prefer a request to see his
mother. This message was conveyed by Lord Hervey to the king, whose
reply was uttered in the most vehement rage possible. 'This,' said he,
'is like one of his scoundrel tricks; it is just of a piece with his
kneeling down in the dirt before the mob to kiss her hand at the coach
door when she came home from Hampton Court to see the Princess, though
he had not spoken one word to her during her whole visit. I always hated
the rascal, but now I hate him worse than ever. He wants to come and
insult his poor dying mother; but she shall not see him: you have heard
her, and all my daughters have heard her, very often this year at
Hampton Court desire me if she should be ill, and out of her senses,
that I would never let him come near her; and whilst she had her senses
she was sure she should never desire it. No, no! he shall not come and
act any of his silly plays here.'

In the afternoon the queen said to the king, she wondered the _Griff_, a
nickname she gave to the prince, had not sent to inquire after her yet;
it would be so like one of his _paroitres_. 'Sooner or later,' she
added, 'I am sure we shall be plagued with some message of that sort,
because he will think it will have a good air in the world to ask to see
me; and, perhaps, hopes I shall be fool enough to let him come, and give
him the pleasure of seeing the last breath go out of my body, by which
means he would have the joy of knowing I was dead five minutes sooner
than he could know it in Pall Mall.'

She afterwards declared that nothing would induce her to see him except
the king's absolute commands. 'Therefore, if I grow worse,' she said,
'and should I be weak enough to talk of seeing him, I beg you, sir, to
conclude that I doat--or rave.'

The king, who had long since guessed at the queen's disease, urged her
now to permit him to name it to her physicians. She begged him not to do
so; and for the first time, and the last, the unhappy woman spoke
peevishly and warmly. Then Ranby, the house-surgeon, who had by this
time discovered the truth, said, 'There is no more time to be lost; your
majesty has concealed the truth too long: I beg another surgeon may