There was silence and a heavy step approached the door, the Queen sliding the talk off into the last sermon of Dr. Hoadly’s, for she was a regular attendant at Divine Worship and could dissect a discourse like a divine. Lord Hervey replied in kind, and his Majesty opening the door roughly entered upon such a scene of domestic quiet as might make any man bless his household gods for a peaceable wife and daughter.
All rose to their feet, but at a wave the Queen and Princess resumed their chairs, whilst the King threw himself into his own. For a small dapper person ’twas remarkable how heavy and clumsy he walked and what noise he made, but the gout is no respecter of persons and an inflamed toe and bandaged foot are the sworn enemies of grace. The Royal brow was savagely clouded too, and the party of three quaked before the foreboding signs of storm.
“If ever I am guided by the Queen’s counsel, especially if seconded by yours, my Lord, ’tis as certain as I sit here, to plunge me in difficulties,” growls the Ruler—who knew not he was ruled. “Here’s a to-do that a little patience and good sense had entirely avoided and we are made to appear ridiculous to the world. Had you, Caroline, the gift to preserve your temper, as I set you the example, and consider before acting, I should escape many troubles I scarce know how to meet.”
The Queen bit her lip, knotting faster. The Princess sat mute as a mouse. Lord Hervey bowed, standing, and none dared to question.
“Here’s this jade—this impudent woman, this Queensbury!” says the little light-haired Autocrat striking his finger on a paper in his other hand, “has the damned insolence to write to her King, and not only so but give it to the public—a letter such as——”
He stuttered off into rage almost unintelligible, and still the Queen knotted on, but tangling her threads. Some of his Majesty’s remarks are best unrecorded,—but when he resumed to Lord Hervey his words could be understood.
“Let this teach such an officious busy-body as yourself, my Lord, to stand off in future and permit the King to form his own views. Hear what the curst jade writes——”
He unfolded the paper and read with some difficulty, (for her Grace had dasht off in a fury not less than his own) the following billet-doux:
“The Duchess of Queensbury is surprised and well pleased that the King hath given her so agreeable a command as to stay from Court, where she never came for diversion but to bestow a civility on the King and Queen; she hopes by such an unprecedented order as this is that the King will see as few as he wishes at his Court particularly such as dare to think or speak truth. (Here the indignant lady slid from the third person to the first.) I dare not do otherwise, and ought not nor could have imagined that it would not have been the highest compliment that I could possibly pay the King to endeavour to support truth and innocence in his house, particularly when the King and Queen both told me they had not read Mr. Gay’s play. I have certainly done right then to stand by my own words.
“C. Queensbury.”[[A]]