George was in no mood to admit he liked anything in his new country, but he could not disguise his love of music. This love was deep in his family and his fellow Hanoverians, and the musicians of his household were treated with greater respect than any other of his servants. Opera he had always de-

lighted in and he often spoke lovingly of the opera house at Hanover, yet he would not admit that the entertainment London had to offer excelled that of his native town.

The play began to fascinate him. In London it had been an important feature of town life since the days of Charles II, who had loved the playhouse and most of all its actresses. There were excellent players and playwrights to please the enormous public who thronged each night to Drury Lane and Lincoln's Inn Fields and the King would have lilied to be among them. He was not however going to show these people that the playhouses of London were a novelty to him and admit that they had nothing like them in Hanover. All the same he could not resist attending and the only way he could do this was to go incognito.

Even so, his heavy features might be sufficiently known for him to be recognized, so he would take a private box, remain hidden at the back of it and watch the players on the stage. He could not understand the words they spoke, but he enjoyed watching their antics and some of the women were very attractive.

But after a while this habit became known and the King could no longer hide his interest in the play. From thence he was often seen in the royal box and because of this he found some favour with actors, actresses and all those connected with the theatre, for many people would come to the theatre to see German George, as much as the play.

The King's lack of English was a drawback, so managers began to look for plays with the minimum of dialogue.

Caroline pointed out to her husband that the King had become less unpopular with the people by this playgoing habit.

"Perhaps," she said, "we should go more to the theatre."

George Augustus saw the point at once and the whole royal family took to visiting the theatre frequently.

There were more cheers, Caroline noticed with satisfaction, for the Prince of Wales than for the King.

He and Caroline would be bowing and smiling from their box and the King would be scowling from his and they could laugh at the jokes of the players while the King could not begin to understand them.

This rivalry was becoming a matter of great delight to the Prince and more and more irritating to the King.

It was noticed that at Betterton's The Wanton Wife the King ignored the Prince and Princess, never once looking their way while the Prince threw many a scornful look at the King's box. The audience was delighted. A feud in the royal family aroused interest, enabled them to take sides; and sentimental feeling was, of course, with the Prince and Princess who smiled on them so affectionately and loved all things English, rather than on sour-faced George who clearly would have preferred to go back to Hanover.

James Stuart could not have provided more entertainment; he would have had French mistresses instead of German ones and they may have been more attractive—in fact how could they have been less?—but there was a lot of fun to be had from the Elephant and the Maypole.

"Long live King George I" cried the theatre crowds. "Long live the Prince and Princess of Wales."

The King was thoughtful; he was fully aware of what was going on in the coffee houses. The Jacobite writers were sending out their lampoons and the supporters of the Stuart were drinking to the King across the water.

At a ball given in the Haymarket at which the royal family were present and to which, since it was a masked ball, all sorts of people could find a way in, the King in his mask, was approached by a woman. She was young and seemed attractive and George was never one to forego an adventure. He had to admit, of course, that he could not speak English and found to his pleasure that she could speak tolerable French.

She said: "It is sad for England since we have had Germans among us."

"You do not like them?" asked the King.

"Who could? They are so crude. They are not like us. I should be glad to see them turned away."

"You think they will be?"

"Without a doubt. We don't want German George here and many say he doesn't want to be here. Let him go back to Hanover and no harm done."

"It mightn't be a bad idea."

"Let us drink a health," said the woman; and taking his hand she led him to a buffet where she filled two glasses.

She lifted hers. "To King James III now across the water. May he soon be in his rightful place."

George looked into his glass and she went on: "Come! Why don't you drink? Drink to King James! "

"I drink with all my heart to the health of any unfortunate prince," said the King.

After that he was in no mood for possible seduction and he left early.

He was not liked by his new subjects. It was possible that he would be sent back to Hanover.

It would, he reflected, be rather pleasant to end his days there.

George Augustus was watching his wife's maid of honour and Caroline was watching George Augustus. They were in church, for the King's advisers had pointed out that it was essential to show the people tliat the new dynasty was determined to support the Church of England.

The King knew, even in his most nostalgic moments, that he would be a fool to lose this kingdom. Even though he himself longed to go back to Hanover he must make the three crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland secure for his descendants. As far as George Augustus was concerned, he could go to hell for all he cared, but there was young Frederick now in Hanover who would in his turn be Prince of Wales and King.

Therefore to church went the King but the long sermons in a tongue he could not understand were a trial to him and he could not pretend they were otherwise. He slept through most of them, or if he couldn't sleep he would discuss state matters with whoever was next to him. The preacher had to accept that. Now he was asleep, a fact made obvious by his intermittent snores. The Prince however was alert, his eyes speculatively on lovely Mary Bellenden.

Caroline was wondering whether she had been wise to accumulate such a band of beauties and bring them into her household. Yes, she decided, better to have them under her

surveillance, and Mrs. Clayton and Mrs. Howard would be excellent watchdogs—particularly Henrietta who had her own position to think of.

Margaret Meadows, the oldest of the girls was sitting up primly in her pew and giving side glances at the girls who, taking their cue from the King, showed no attention to the preacher—on this occasion the renowned Bishop Burnet. Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel were whispering together. Fair and pretty Bridget Carteret, who was a niece of Lord Carteret, was doing her best to suppress her giggles which was more than Sophia Howe could manage. Every now and then the girl's choking laughter could be heard. Sophie was very frivolous. I should dismiss her, thought Caroline. But she was the granddaughter of Prince Rupert—although on the wrong side of the blanket—who was a brother of the Electress Sophia, and such a close connection could not be ignored; but the girl would have to be spoken to.

Bishop Burnet had turned his scornful gaze from the snoring King to the giggling maids of honour and made it very clear that he was displeased with the House of Hanover. Queen Anne had been most devout in her attitude to the church; Queen Mary had been the same; it was true King James had been a Catholic and been dismissed for it; and King Charles had made comments during sermons, but at least they were witty. Bishop Burnet had implied that these were newcomers to England and if they wished to retain their popularity they must show due respect to the church.