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.'

At length, too late, other and more sensible means were resorted to: but
the queen's strength was failing fast. It must have been a strange scene
in that chamber of death. Much as the king really grieved for the
queen's state, he was still sufficiently collected to grieve also lest
Richmond Lodge, which was settled on the queen, should go to the hated
_Griff_:[22] and he actually sent Lord Hervey to the lord chancellor to
inquire about that point. It was decided that the queen could make a
will, so the king informed her of his inquiries, in order to set her
mind at ease, and to assure her it was impossible that the prince could
in any way benefit pecuniarily from her death. The Princess Emily now
sat up with her mother. The king went to bed. The Princess Caroline
slept on a couch in the antechamber, and Lord Hervey lay on a mattress
on the floor at the foot of the Princess Caroline's couch.

On the following day (four after the first attack) mortification came
on, and the weeping Princess Caroline and Lord Hervey were informed that
the queen could not hold out many hours. Hervey was ordered to
withdraw. The king, the Duke of Cumberland, and the queen's four
daughters alone remained, the queen begging them not to leave her until
she expired; yet her life was prolonged many days.

When alone with her family, she took from her finger a ruby ring, which
had been placed on it at the time of the coronation, and gave it to the
king. 'This is the last thing,' she said, 'I have to give you; naked I
came to you, and naked I go from you; I had everything I ever possessed
from you, and to you whatever I have I return.' She then asked for her
keys, and gave them to the king. To the Princess Caroline she intrusted
the care of her younger sisters; to the Duke of Cumberland, that of
keeping up the credit of the family. 'Attempt nothing against your
brother, and endeavour to mortify him by showing superior merit,' she
said to him. She advised the king to marry again; he heard her in sobs,
and with much difficulty got out this sentence: '_Non, j'aurai des
maitresses_' To which the queen made no other reply than '_Ah, mon Dieu!
cela n'empeche pas._' 'I know,' says Lord Hervey, in his Memoirs, 'that
thi