“I thanked[“I thanked] him; and the Willises, thinking him rather too elevated, came to propose my walking on. ‘No, no, no!’ he cried, a hundred times in a breath; and their good humour prevailed, and they let him again walk on with his new companion.
“He then gave me a history of his pages, animating almost into a rage, as he related his subjects of displeasure with them, particularly with Mr. Ernst,[[100]] who, he told me, had been brought up by himself. I hope his ideas upon these men are the result of the mistakes of his malady.
“Then he asked me some questions that very greatly distressed me, relating to information given him in his illness, from various motives, but which he suspected to be false, and which I knew he had reason to suspect: yet was it most dangerous to set anything right, as I was not aware what might be the views of their having been stated wrong. I was as discreet as I knew how to be, and I hope I did no mischief; but this was the worst part of the dialogue.
“He next talked to me a great deal of my dear father, and made a thousand inquiries concerning his ‘History of Music.’ This brought him to his favourite theme, Handel; and he told me innumerable anecdotes of him, and particularly that celebrated tale of Handel’s saying of himself, ‘While that boy lives, my music will never want a protector.’ And this, he said, I might relate to my father.
“Then he ran over most of his oratorios, attempting to sing the subjects of several airs and choruses, but so dreadfully hoarse that the sound was terrible.
“Dr. Willis, quite alarmed at this exertion, feared he would do himself harm, and again proposed a separation. ‘No, no, no!’ he exclaimed, ‘not yet; I have something I must just mention first.’
“Dr. Willis, delighted to comply, even when uneasy at compliance, again gave way.
“The good King then greatly affected me. He began upon my revered old friend, Mrs. Delany; and he spoke of her with such warmth—such kindness! ‘She was my friend!’ he cried, ‘and I loved her as a friend! I have made a memorandum when I lost her—I will show it you.’
“He pulled out a pocket-book, and rummaged some time, but to no purpose.
“The tears stood in his eyes—he wiped them, and Dr. Willis again became very anxious. ‘Come, sir,’ he cried, ‘now do you come in and let the lady go on her walk,—come, now, you have talked a long while,—so we’ll go in—if your Majesty pleases.’