Виктория Холт - Caroline the Queen

THE Prince of Wales lay on his back, snoring. To sleep after a heavy meal in the middle of the day was a custom he had brought with him from Hanover. This was no light afternoon nap; but like everything the Prince did it was performed with precision. He lived by the clock; there was a time for eating, sleeping, doing business, and even making love. In fact, throughout the Court his habits were a joke of which he was ignorant; but his wife, who had made it her first duty to discover as much as she could of what was going on around her, was well aware of this.
Poor George Augustus, although he was more popular than his father, the King, who could not speak a word of English, appealed strongly to the people’s ridicule. He was choleric and a lack of inches had made him ready to assert his importance; his quarrels with his father, his habit of walking up and down his mistress’s apartments, watch in hand that he might visit her at exactly the appointed time, had provided material for the lampooners who frequented the city’s coffee houses and taverns and seemed to be of the opinion that the royal family’s chief duty was to amuse its subjects.