"Shall I, Charlotte?" he said. "Shall I?”

"But of course. The doctors are going to cure you.”

"Of what?" he whispered.

She did not answer; she could not look at him; but he gripped her arm fiercely and cried: "Tell me of what, Charlotte. Tell me of what?”

She looked up at him bravely. "Of your illness," she answered.

Then he released her and turning his head away burst into tears. "I wish to God I may die," he said, 'for I am going mad.”

What can I do? Charlotte asked herself. How could she keep this distressing illness from becoming public knowledge? She thought of the Prince of Wales who for so long had despised his father. What would he be feeling now? He had disappointed them; the charming child of the nursery had become the gay young man about town.

He was all that his parents were not; he was becoming known as the First Gentleman of Europe; and although she knew he was so wild and perhaps wicked she could not help loving him and ...

yes, admiring him. What would he do now?

The King came bursting into her apartments. All his movements were violent and he seemed in a desperate hurry.

"Ah, Charlotte ... here we are! Fresh air, Charlotte. It's good for you. Must have it, eh? What? Are you ready? Come on ... a five-mile walk. Good for you. Mustn't get fat. Too much fat in the family, eh? What?”

She remonstrated with him. Was he not taking too much exercise? Did the doctors not say he should go more slowly? What about a drive? That would be better. They could go farther afield.

He did not seem to be listening, but when she led him to the carriage he got in without a word.

She sat down beside him and let him talk of the beauties of the countryside. And how he talked.

He talked of farms, of button-making, of Mrs. Delany's paper mosaics, pleasant subjects like the Princess Amelia and unpleasant ones like the Prince of Wales.

Suddenly the King shouted to the driver to stop. The carriage came to rest by an oak tree. The King alighted, bowed to the oak, approached it with great dignity and shook one of the lower branches. For some seconds he stood there talking as though to the tree; and watching, being aware of the driver and the footman looking on, Charlotte felt a great fear and depression sweep over her.

After a while the King bowed, shook the oak branch again and took his seat in the carriage.

"I think," he said, 'that I have put our case clearly to the King of Prussia.”

There were rumours throughout the Court and the City. What is happening to the King? Is it true that his mind is deranged? The Prince of Wales consulted with his friend what this would mean. A Regency? With the Prince in command. And it seemed very desirable to them all.

The Prince of Wales came to Kew to see for himself if the rumours were true. He was astonished at the sight of his father who had changed considerably in the last few months. He had been right when he had said that suddenly he had become an old man.

He received the Prince with dignity and made no reference to their disagreements. The Queen was on the verge of hysteria; she feared the King would become violent. She could not much longer, she knew, keep his state from the attendants; and she lived in terror of what he would do next.

It was inevitable that the Prince of Wales, who had given him so much cause for that anxiety which had without doubt hastened him to his present condition, should bring affairs to a climax.

During dinner the King suddenly began shouting at his son, talking fast and incoherently, but it was obvious that he was abusing him as he rose from his place and went to where his son was sitting. He began to shout at him and the Prince of Wales, rising in his chair, touched his arm gently and said: "Father, I beg of you lower your voice.”

The King was seized with a sudden fury against his son. He took him by the throat and throwing him against the wall appeared to be about to strangle him.

"Who shall dare tell the King of England he shall not speak out, eh? What? Tell me that? Tell me that? Tell me that?”

The footmen rushed forward to rescue the Prince; the Princesses rose to their feet, all colour drained from their faces; the Queen sat clenching and unclenching her hands, her lips tightly pressed together as she forced herself not to scream out that she could endure no more.

Colonel Digby, Charlotte's Chamberlain, bowed to the King who was struggling to free himself from the footmen and suggested that he allow him to conduct him to bed.

"Don't dare touch me, sir," screamed the King. "I will not go. Who are you?”

"I am Colonel Digby, sir," was the calm reply. "Your Majesty has been very good to me often and now I am going to be good to you, for you must come to bed. It is necessary to your life.”

The King was so struck by this speech that he grew silent. Tears filled his eyes as Colonel Digby, taking him by the arm, led him away. The Prince of Wales was almost fainting and his eldest sisters hurried to bathe his forehead with Hungary water.

The Queen said to two of her women: "Pray conduct me to my apartments." They obeyed and when she reached them she threw herself on to her bed and gave way to fits of laughter of a wild hysterical kind. Her women were terrified; and she sat up in bed and cried: "What will become of me? What will become of us all?”

Having reached his room the King seemed to grow calmer.

"Where is the Queen, eh?" he kept demanding. "What have you done with the Queen, eh? What?

You are trying to separate me from the Queen.”

"The Queen is indisposed, sir," Colonel Digby told him.

"Indisposed? The Queen ill? Then she will want me with her. I will go to the Queen. Do not stand in my way, sir. The Queen is ill; therefore I must be with her.”

They could not restrain him from visiting the Queen and when she saw him, wild-eyed though quieter than he had been at the dinner table, Charlotte's fears rose. She had seen his attack on the Prince of Wales and she could not be sure what he would do next.

"You are ill," he said, 'ill... ill, ill, ill. Eh? What? You must take care of the Queen." He glared at her women.

"And now we must rest. Both of us. Charlotte, I beg of you do not talk to me so that I may fall asleep quickly. I need sleep. I need sleep. You understand, eh? What? I need sleep.”

He went on talking of his need to sleep and begging the Queen not to talk to him, which she had shown no sign of doing. It was very distressing to all those who watched. One of the women suggested that the Queen and he, should have a separate room for the night so that he could be sure of uninterrupted rest.

"Part from the Queen!" he cried. "I could not be parted from the Queen.”

It was arranged that the Queen should have a room leading from his so that she would not be far from him, and he went on begging the Queen not to talk to him, and he would not let her go to her room. It was past midnight when he left her and the Queen lay staring at the ceiling repeating to herself: "What next? What will become of us now?”

Into the Queen's bedroom walked a solitary figure. In his hand he carried a lighted candle. He parted the bed curtains and Charlotte, who had been lightly dozing for the first time during that terrible night, awoke to look up into the wild eyes of the King. The lighted candle quivered in his hand and she thought he had come to set fire to the bed hangings and kill her.

She started up in bed and he said soothingly: "So you are here, Charlotte. I thought they had tried to separate us.”

"I am here," she told him, 'and shall be with you as long as you need me.”

He began to weep quietly; the tears splashing on to his nightgown.

"Good Charlotte," he said. "Ours was a good marriage. Good Charlotte.”

He would not go; he went on talking without ceasing. Charlotte dared not move for fear his kindly mood turned to one of violence and it was half an hour before his attendants heard him and came to take him back to his bed.

There was a brooding silence throughout the castle. The ladies of the Queen's household lay sleepless in their beds. One fact was clear to them all, and it could no longer be denied: The King was mad.

In her room Fanny Burney could endure the suspense no longer. At six o'clock she rose and, dressing hastily, went out into the draughty corridors. The pages were all sleepless. Everyone was waiting tensely for what was going to happen now. She went back to her room; she was cold, not only because it was always cold in the castle corridors where there was enough wind someone had said to sail a man-o'-war. She had not been there very long when she received a summons from the Queen, and she hastily went to the bedchamber where she found Charlotte sitting up in bed, pale and fearful.

"Ah, Miss Burney," said Charlotte. "How are you today?”

Fanny was so moved that she burst into tears. And to her amazement the Queen did the same. For some minutes they both wept unrestrainedly.

Then the Queen said: "I thank you, Miss Burney. You have made me cry. It is a great relief to me.

All this night long I have wanted to cry and been unable. I feel better now. I think I will get up.”

While the Queen was at her toilet they could hear the King talking incessantly in the next room.

Another fearful day had begun. There was no hope now of hiding the fact that the King was deranged. The whole country was talking of it and what this would mean. There was to be a Regency. The King would be replaced by his son.

Pitt was trying to make the Regency a restricted one; Fox and Sheridan were trying to get full powers for the Prince of Wales; and meanwhile the King's doctors were wrangling together over the treatment he should receive. The King was removed from Windsor to Kew; he was not allowed to shave himself or have a knife at dinner. Once he tried to throw himself out of a window; then he would give himself up to praying and talking of religion. At times his struggling body was forced into a straitjacket. The fashionable Dr. Warren was called in; and it was said that he was a friend of the Prince of Wales and was there to serve his ends. The King disliked him and the Queen feared him. And she feared the King.