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 be called in immediately.’

The queen, who had, in her passion, started up in her bed, lay down again, turned her head on the other side, and, as the king told Lord Hervey, ‘shed the only tear he ever saw her shed whilst she was ill.’