s episode will hardly be credited, but it is literally true.'

She then fancied she could sleep. The king kissed her, and wept over
her; yet when she asked for her watch, which hung near the chimney, that
she might give him the seal to take care of, his brutal temper broke
forth. In the midst of his tears he called out, in a loud voice, 'Let it
alone! _mon Dieu!_ the queen has such strange fancies; who should meddle
with your seal? It is as safe there as in my pocket.'

The queen then thought she could sleep, and, in fact, sank to rest. She
felt refreshed on awakening and said, 'I wish it was over; it is only a
reprieve to make me suffer a little longer; I cannot recover, but my
nasty heart will not break yet.' She had an impression that she should
die on a Wednesday: she had, she said, been born on a Wednesday, married
on a Wednesday, crowned on a Wednesday, her first child was born on a
Wednesday, and she had heard of the late king's death on a Wednesday.

On the ensuing day she saw Sir Robert Walpole. 'My good Sir Robert,'
she thus addressed him, 'you see me in a very indifferent situation. I
have nothing to say to you but to recommend the king, my children, and
the kingdom to your care.'

Lord Hervey, when the minister retired, asked him what he thought of the
queen's state.

'My lord,' was the reply, 'she is as much dead as if she was in her
coffin; if ever I heard a corpse speak, it was just now in that room!'

It was a sad, an awful death-bed. The Prince of Wales having sent to
inquire after the health of his dying mother, the queen became uneasy
lest he should hear the true state of her case, asking 'if no one would
send those ravens,' meaning the prince's attendants, out of the house.
'They were only,' she said, 'watching her death, and would gladly tear
her to pieces whilst she was alive.' Whilst thus she spoke of her son's
courtiers, that son was sitting up all night in his house in Pall Mall,
and saying, when any messenger came in from St. James's, 'Well, sure, we
shall soon have good news, she cannot hold out much longer.' And the
princesses were writing letters to prevent the Princess Royal from
coming to England, where she was certain to meet with brutal unkindness
from her father, who could not endure to be put to any expense. Orders
were, indeed, sent to stop her if she set out. She came, however, on
pretence of taking the Bath waters; but George II., furious at her
disobedience, obliged her to go